Delight fizzed beneath her pelt. “Thank you!” She pressed her nose against his cheek.
Clear Sky hissed. “How dare you!” Tail lashing, he kicked the bark away.
“No!” Moth Flight leaped after it, trying to rescue it before leaf litter soiled the precious sap.
Clear Sky faced Micah, ears flat. “I actually believed that you might become one of the Clan,” he spat. “But you can’t be trusted.” His gaze flicked to Moth Flight. “How can you steal for WindClan?”
“It’s not stealing!” Micah faced him. “Herbs belong to all cats.”
A screech sounded above them.
“Murderer!” Willow Tail’s cry rang out across the forest.
“Thief!” Red Claw shrieked back.
High up, the leaves exploded around the fighting cats.
Micah jerked his muzzle up. “They’ll kill each other!” Spraying earth behind him, he leaped toward the tree and hauled himself into the branches. “Take the bark to Rocky!” he called back to Moth Flight.
Moth Flight froze. I can’t leave! Not until Micah was safe. “Come back!” she wailed. Let them kill each other if they want! Guilt flared through her. She was meant to protect cats, not wish them dead! Her paws were rooted to the ground as Micah’s yellow pelt flashed among the leaves. He swarmed upward, toward the trembling branches where Red Claw and Willow Tail fought.
Brown fur crashed through the leaves. Red Claw swung from a branch for a moment before scrambling back on. Willow Tail balanced farther along, her hind paws trembling as she lashed out, blow after blow, with her forepaws. Red Claw backed away, the end of the branch only a tail-length behind him. It dipped perilously as he retreated from Willow Tail’s punishing swipes.
“Stop!” Micah’s mew rang out behind them.
Moth Flight strained to see him. She could make out his yellow pelt among the green leaves. He was moving slowly along the branch. “Stop!” he ordered again.
Willow Tail glanced at him. “Stay out of this,” she snarled. “It’s not your battle.”
“It’s not any cat’s battle!” Micah called. “I’ve got the bark. Moth Flight’s taking it to Rocky. There’s no point in fighting now.”
Red Claw stopped near the end of the branch, his tail thrashing wildly as he fought to keep his balance. “Let’s at least fight like cats, not crows! On the ground where cats are meant to be!”
Willow Tail narrowed her eyes. “You always were a mouse-heart!” She advanced slowly toward the SkyClan tom.
“Stop!” Micah followed her along the branch, lifting a paw to grab for her tail. He wobbled, fear flashing in his eyes.
Moth Flight gasped. “Be careful!”
Micah dug his claws into the branch, clinging like a vine.
The branch creaked beneath him. Dry bark fluttered down like dust.
Fear flared through Moth Flight as she noticed that the leaves around Red Claw were withered and brown. With a jolt, she realized that the branch they were on was dying. “Get back!” she cried. It creaked again. “The branch is rotten!”
Beside her, Clear Sky backed away.
A crack split the air. The world seemed to slow as the branch bent, then snapped, the wood screaming as it tore away from the tree and dropped.
She saw Red Claw fall, flailing. Willow Tail dropped beside him, her legs thrashing the air. Red Claw caught hold of a branch and swung, forepaws clinging hard. Willow Tail hit the bough below, yowling with shock as she scrambled to cling on.
The rotten branch hurtled down and smashed onto the ground, shards of wood strafing Moth Flight’s flank. She screwed up her eyes, scrabbling away as the world seemed to explode around her.
Then silence fell.
A moment later, leaves rustled overhead and Willow Tail huffed high above.
“Micah?” Moth Flight blinked away the splinters and gazed into the branches. Red Claw had hauled himself onto his paws and was trembling. Willow Tail lay frozen, her paws wrapped tightly around the bough that had broken her fall. Moth Flight scanned the leaves around them, trying to glimpse Micah’s pelt.
A low moan sounded from below the tree.
Moth Flight dragged her gaze toward the fallen branch.
Among the shriveled leaves and shattered wood, she saw yellow fur.
Dread hollowed her belly. “Micah?” Her throat tightened. Trembling, she crept closer. Don’t let it be him. Once more, she looked up, hoping to see Micah gazing down from the tree, his eyes bright with relief.
The moan sounded again.
Moth Flight felt sick. She forced herself closer, until she could make out Micah’s twisted body, his hindquarters crushed beneath the splintered wood.
His head moved.
He’s alive! Hope soared in her chest.
Then his pain-wracked gaze sought hers and held it. She could see his hopeless agony. Grief tore at her heart as she crouched beside him. “What can I do?” she whispered hoarsely.
“Let me feel your breath on my cheek.” His mew was so weak that she had to lean closer to hear. He sighed as her muzzle touched his. “Moth Flight, I don’t want to leave you.”
“Then don’t!” Desperation filled her plea. “We can drag you out.”
“No, Moth Flight. My spine is crushed.”
“You don’t know that!”
“I can feel only pain.” He reached for her gaze again, his eyes clouding.
A sob choked her mew. “I can wrap you in comfrey. Cloud Spots says it can mend—”
“Moth Flight.” Micah interrupted, gasping. “Thank you for letting me come with you to Highstones. And for bringing me to the Clans.”
Horror pressed at the edge of Moth Flight’s thoughts. “Don’t say that!” He was talking like this was the end.
“I’m glad I spent this time with you.”
“No!” He mustn’t die! He couldn’t!
“You made sense of my life,” he rasped. “You showed me my destiny.”
“This can’t be your destiny!” Moth Flight fought for breath, her thoughts spiraling into panic. “It’s not fair!”
“I love you.”
“Then don’t leave me!”
“I’ll see you again.” His eyes flickered. “Next half-moon maybe.”
Moth Flight felt a wave of relief. But then she realized what he meant: Next half-moon. He means he’ll see me from StarClan! “No!” The ground swayed beneath Moth Flight’s paws. She thrust her muzzle against Micah’s, longing to feel his warm breath. But she felt nothing. Jerking away, she saw his gaze light for a moment, then grow dull, as though dusk had swept through the forest and swallowed the sunshine.
“Micah.” Collapsing, Moth Flight pressed her cheek to his. “Don’t go. I love you!”
CHAPTER 22
Moth Flight lifted her head blearily, not sure if she’d slept. Dawn light filtered through the trees above. “I forgot about Rocky,” she said, but her voice came out hoarse and creaky. “I didn’t take the bark to him.”
“Reed Tail took it,” Wind Runner’s voice replied. “Rocky’s doing okay. Don’t worry about anything, Moth Flight.”
She smelled Wind Runner’s scent and realized that her mother’s warm flank was pressed against hers. Swift Minnow was on her other side. Moth Flight wondered how long they’d been there. A chilly mist swirled around the forest floor.
Dread swelled at the edge of her thoughts and she wondered, for a moment, why. Then she remembered.
Anguish struck her like a wave. She struggled to breathe.
Micah’s muzzle was still a whisker from hers, cold and stiff.
She blinked at it numbly. Grief had dragged her through the long, dark night. Foxes had screeched from the depth of the woods. Owls had glided, curious, through the glade, the breeze from their silent wings the only clue they had passed. Paws had scuffed the forest floor as cats came and went, dipping their head in respect to Micah, exchanging sympathies in hushed mews.
“It’s time we buried him.” Wind Runner’s mew cut throu
gh Moth Flight’s grief like claws.
Panic seized her. “No.” They couldn’t lay him deep in the earth and cut him off from sunlight forever. “I need to see him.”
Wind Runner got to her paws and touched her muzzle to Moth Flight’s head. “Foxes will come for his body if we don’t.”
Moth Flight blinked at her. Why was her mother being so cruel?
Swift Minnow shifted beside her. “Burying him will show our respect.”
Wind Runner nodded. “He’ll be safe in the earth.”
Anguish slammed into Moth Flight. “But what about me?” I need him.
“You still have your family,” murmured Wind Runner.
“And your Clanmates,” Swift Minnow added.
Moth Flight leaped to her paws and glared at them. “I don’t want you!” she hissed. “I want him!”
They exchanged looks, then Wind Runner signaled to some cat with her tail. Gorse Fur padded toward them, with Nettle, Blossom, and Acorn Fur following close behind. The splintered branch had already been cleared away, leaving Micah’s body exposed to the brightening day.
Nettle thrust his gray muzzle beneath Micah’s flank, heaving him onto his back. Gorse Fur and Blossom crowded beside him, helping to take the weight of Micah’s body. Acorn Fur slid among them, pressing her shoulder beneath Micah’s hindquarters. Together, they carried the body from the glade.
Moth Flight watched them wade through the bluebells, the purple blossoms sweeping Micah’s matted pelt.
Wind Runner nudged her gently forward. “Come and say good-bye.”
Moth Flight’s paws felt as heavy as stone as she followed the cats out of the glade. Daylight was beginning to glimmer among the leaves overhead as the sun lifted higher. At the top of the rise she saw cleared earth and a hole dug deep into it. Clear Sky stood at its head, Star Flower at his side. SkyClan gathered around them as Nettle and Gorse Fur paused at the edge of the hole.
Moth Flight blinked at the solemnity in Clear Sky’s gaze. Didn’t he realize that he’d caused this, with his fox-hearted craving for borders?
Acorn Fur’s eyes were misted with grief. She pressed against Birch while Quick Water, Alder, Fern Leaf, and Thorn stared bleakly at Micah’s body. Red Claw hung back behind Clear Sky, his gaze fixed on his paws. Moth Flight felt anger flash in her belly, eclipsing her grief for a moment. You killed him! You and your stupid fight! She glanced around, wondering if Willow Tail had dared come.
The pale tabby she-cat was watching half hidden behind Dust Muzzle. Moth Flight glared at her, anger seething beneath her pelt. “Don’t skulk behind my brother!” she spat. “Come and see what you’ve done.” She jerked her muzzle toward Micah, lying stiffly on Nettle’s back.
Moth Flight felt Wind Runner’s pelt brush her flank. “It was an accident,” she murmured.
“It didn’t have to happen! If they hadn’t been fighting”—Moth Flight glared at Red Claw—“Micah would still be alive.”
Clear Sky caught her gaze and returned it steadily. “Micah died because he was brave. It was a noble death.”
“He didn’t die because he was brave!” Moth Flight stared at him, stunned. “He died because you sent Red Claw after him.”
Clear Sky didn’t blink. “He chose to climb back up the tree,” he meowed simply. “He could have stayed on the ground.”
Moth Flight’s mind whirled. Was Clear Sky blaming Micah?
Star Flower stepped forward, her emerald gaze round with sympathy. “You are angry,” she mewed. “A cat you loved has died. But what is the point of blaming Clear Sky? Or Red Claw or Willow Tail? The tree was rotten. Do you blame the tree?”
“Yes!” Moth Flight’s pelt bristled. “And Rocky’s cough for sending us there! And Clear Sky! And Red Claw and Willow Tail!” Her thoughts seemed to whirl as rage flared. “And Micah for being so dumb!”
Star Flower blinked at her. “Would Micah have blamed anyone?”
I’m glad I spent this time with you. His dying words echoed in her mind. Shame washed her pelt. He could have hated me for bringing him here . . . but instead, he was grateful. She felt the eyes of the other cats fixed on her and backed away, grief welling once more in her chest as her anger withered.
Wind Runner brushed her cheek with her muzzle. “Let’s say good-bye to Micah kindly.”
Nettle crouched and let Micah’s body slip from his shoulders. It dropped into the hole with a thud. Clear Sky stepped forward and looked into the darkness.
No! Moth Flight closed her eyes and pictured Micah on the stepping-stones, the river sparkling around him. That night, as they’d curled in their nest in Dappled Pelt’s den, he’d asked her to be his mate. While Dappled Pelt slept they’d planned a future in soft whispers. They’d told each other that StarClan would find a way for them to be together; they could be medicine cats to both Clans, traveling between them, but always at each other’s side.
Moth Flight felt her mother’s flank pressing against hers. She watched as Clear Sky pushed a pawful of earth into the hole. Would either leader have let them live that way? Would StarClan?
She’d never know now.
Her throat tightened. A wave of sadness flooded her, so strong that the ground swayed beneath her. Wind Runner pressed harder against her. Gorse Fur padded to her other side and pushed his shoulder beneath hers.
Clear Sky lifted his muzzle. “I had doubts about taking Micah in,” he meowed. “When he cured Tiny Branch, I regretted my promise to let him stay. He was a farm cat, sleek from easy living, too sure of himself to be trusted. I didn’t think he had any place in a Clan.”
Nettle nodded. Quick Water murmured in agreement.
Clear Sky went on. “But I was wrong.” He gazed sadly into the grave. “He devoted every thought and every moment to his Clanmates.” His gaze flitted from Nettle to Quick Water. “All of us who doubted him came to respect his intelligence and value his kindness.” The SkyClan cats nodded solemnly.
Star Flower moved closer to the SkyClan leader as he continued. “I respected Micah. He stood up to me. He did what he thought was right, not what would please me. He died doing what he thought was right.” He looked at Moth Flight. “He had to climb back into the tree; he was being true to himself. He died as he lived—caring about others, bravely and without hesitation. We were lucky to have known him, even for so short a while.”
The forest seemed to spin around Moth Flight. She felt Wind Runner and Gorse Fur press closer, supporting her as her paws buckled beneath her.
Clear Sky’s gaze was still on her. “Will you speak for him?”
“I can’t—” Moth Flight faltered. Grief seemed to be tearing her heart in two. The other cats stared at her expectantly. She glanced into the hole, glimpsing a flash of Micah’s pelt where the rising sun’s rays pierced the depths. “May StarClan light your path.”
She blinked, surprised at herself. The words seemed to appear in her mouth and roll from her tongue as though she had spoken them countless times before.
“May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”
Murmurs of approval rippled around the other cats.
Moth Flight backed away.
Wind Runner was watching her, eyes bright with worry.
“I’m okay,” Moth Flight breathed. “I just need to be alone.” She turned and fled back to the glade, skidding to a halt as she saw the scattered remains of the splintered branch. She turned, her gaze flashing wildly around the forest, unsure where to go.
“Moth Flight.” A gentle mew sounded from the trees behind her.
Pebble Heart padded over the rise. “I came to pay my respects.”
Moth Flight glanced past him, toward the grave, hidden beyond the crest of the hollow. “Are they burying him?” She pictured the earth tumbling over Micah’s poor, beautiful, broken body.
“He is safe now.” Pebble Heart stopped beside her. “You should go home and mourn.”
“No!” Alarm jolted through her. She didn’t want to be like
Slate, moving around the hollow like a shadow, pitied by her Clanmates. She didn’t want to see her den. Micah had been there. They’d been so excited when they’d remembered the tree bark. Her breath quickened. Rocky would still be there. How could she take care of him? How could she take care of any cat? Her thoughts tumbled, confused. She’d never be able to remember any herb. Every cat would be depending on her. She struggled for breath.
“Moth Flight.” Pebble Heart’s soft mew sounded through the roar of blood in her ears. “Eat this.” An aromatic scent touched her nose. The ShadowClan medicine cat had laid a sprig of tiny leaves at her paws. “It’s thyme. It will calm you.”
Blindly, Moth Flight leaned down and grabbed the sprig, chewing it as the world seemed to spin around her. Its pungent flavors bathed her tongue, pulling her thoughts away from the spiraling terror that filled her mind. Slowly she felt her heart begin to slow. She blinked, the blurred bluebells brightening around her.
“Come back to my camp,” Pebble Heart murmured. “Reed Tail can look after WindClan for a while. You can have peace to grieve until you feel strong enough to return to your Clanmates.”
Moth Flight blinked at him, soothed by his amber gaze. “Will Tall Shadow let me stay?”
“Yes. If I ask her,” Pebble Heart told her.
Wind Runner’s mew sounded at the top of the glade. “Will Tall Shadow let you stay where?” She hurried down the slope, ears twitching.
“I want Moth Flight to spend some time with ShadowClan,” Pebble Heart told her calmly.
“Why?” Wind Runner bristled. “She should be with her kin.”
Pebble Heart returned her gaze. “She needs to be away from responsibility until she’s strong enough to bear her grief.”
Moth Flight looked at Wind Runner, expecting her mother to argue, but saw worry darken her yellow eyes.
“Is this what you want?” she asked Moth Flight.
Moth Flight nodded, strangely calm. She guessed the thyme must be soothing her. She leaned against Pebble Heart, gratitude washing her pelt.