Pebble Heart dipped his head to Wind Runner. “I’ll take her to my camp.”
Wind Runner shifted her paws. “I’ll send Dust Muzzle to check on her soon.”
“Not too soon,” Pebble Heart told her. “She’ll be in good paws. I’ll take care of her until she’s strong enough to take care of herself.”
Gorse Fur called from the top of the slope. “We should get back to the moor, Wind Runner. The Clan will be unsettled. They’ll need you.”
Wind Runner touched her nose to Moth Flight’s cheek. “Take care.”
Moth Flight nodded dumbly as her mother bounded up the slope, and then Pebble Heart began to guide her across the glade. He nudged her gently up the far slope, steering her toward a rabbit trail that cut between the brambles.
With every paw step, grief jabbed at Moth Flight’s heart. She was walking away. She would never again see Micah in the forest or on the moor. She was leaving him behind, alone beneath the earth.
Pebble Heart led the way into the ShadowClan camp, ducking through a gap in the vast bramble hedge into a wide, pine needle–strewn clearing.
Juniper Branch looked up from a mouse she was gnawing and blinked sympathetically at Moth Flight. The tortoiseshell queen was looking plump, her belly swollen. Her mate, Raven Pelt, glanced toward Moth Flight, catching her eye before awkwardly snatching his gaze away.
Mouse Ear, sitting on a sun-dappled patch of grass at the edge of the clearing, leaned closer to Mud Paws and murmured into his friend’s ear. “I heard she was in love with the farm cat.”
Moth Flight fixed her gaze ahead. What do you know? She felt unreasonably angry. Micah was dead and these cats would never know him. It wasn’t fair.
“Moth Flight.” Tall Shadow padded from the head of the clearing, her eyes soft with sympathy.
Moth Flight stopped and stared at her paws. “Pebble Heart said I could stay,” she mumbled.
Pebble Heart padded past her and leaned close to the ShadowClan leader. “I thought she’d grieve more easily here, away from anything that will stir memories.”
Everything stirs memories! The sky! The wind! The sun! Moth Flight braced herself against a fresh wave of grief.
Tall Shadow dipped her head. “Of course you can stay.”
A black tom padded from a small den woven into the camp wall. “Moth Flight?” He padded closer, his ears twitching nervously. “Are you okay? Sparrow Fur brought us the news. I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known Micah better. Pebble Heart says he had the heart of a Tribe cat and the courage of a Clan cat.”
“Thanks, Sun Shadow.” Moth Flight met his amber gaze. It was a relief to hear someone say Micah’s name. So long as cats spoke of him, he would never be forgotten. “Micah shouldn’t have died.” She flashed a look at Tall Shadow, wondering whether she was like Clear Sky and Wind Runner. Did she value borders more dearly than the lives of cats?
Tall Shadow’s expression was unreadable as she gazed at Sun Shadow. “May Moth Flight have your den?”
“Of course.” Sun Shadow glanced over his shoulder toward the brambles. “Should I fetch some fresh moss for the nest?”
“Don’t bother.” Moth Flight brushed past him. She didn’t care where she lay, just so long as it was away from the prying gaze of the other cats. She ducked into the shadows, relieved to find the den cozy. Its bramble walls encircled a nest woven from pine sprigs. She climbed into it, feeling silky needles beneath her paws. It was surprisingly soft to curl into and she settled deep inside, letting the pine and bramble muffle the murmuring of the cats outside.
“Will she be here long?”
“Why did she come here?”
Then everything fell quiet. Moth Flight imagined that Tall Shadow had silenced her Clanmates with a stare. “She came here for kindness.”
A moment later, Pebble Heart nosed his way into Moth Flight’s den. He was carrying a leaf bundle in his jaws. As he dropped it beside Moth Flight’s nest, it unfurled to reveal a few tiny poppy seeds. “Dappled Pelt brought these for you. She says they’ll help you rest.”
“She’s here?” Moth Flight peered toward the den entrance.
“She didn’t stay,” Pebble Heart told her. “She says you need peace more than sympathy right now.”
“How did she find me?”
“She was taking these to the moor and met Wind Runner and Gorse Fur.”
Moth Flight felt her heart prick with gratitude for her medicine cat friends. Except Micah isn’t one of us anymore. She closed her eyes, frightened even to think. Each thought seemed to remind her of Micah. She wanted to block out every memory and pretend that he was still alive in the forest, tending to his Clanmates and thinking of her. She leaned over the side of her nest and lapped up the poppy seeds.
Pebble Heart stiffened. “She said just two or three.”
“I want to sleep until the pain stops.” Moth Flight gazed at him wearily.
“I’ll sit with you.”
“No. I need to be alone.”
“Then I’ll check on you in a while.”
Moth Flight tucked her nose onto her paws and closed her eyes. Blackness came as a relief. She flattened her ears, blocking out the calling of the birds overhead and the sound of paw steps outside the den. She wished the darkness would swallow her completely and quench the pain blazing in her heart and scorching deep in her belly.
Her thoughts began to slow as the poppy took hold. She heard Pebble Heart’s fur brush the den entrance as he left, then felt herself drifting into sleep.
She opened her eyes to find herself back at the Moonstone. No! Not again. Weariness dragged at her bones. Grief weighed in her heart like a stone. I don’t want to dream.
Paw steps brushed rock as two cats entered the cave. A small dark gray she-cat whose brilliant blue eyes sparkled in the gloom, and a flame-pelted tom.
Moth Flight stared at them blankly. She didn’t even try to speak. They’d never hear her. This was just another dream, like the dream of the other blue-gray she-cat, and the dark tom who’d shown such scorn for his ancestors. She glanced up at the hole in the roof, unsurprised to see the edge of the moon nudging into view. In a few moments the Moonstone would light up and the spirit-cats would come. The flame-pelted tom crouched before the Moonstone and touched his nose to it. The gray she-cat stepped away and Moth Flight narrowed her eyes, preparing for the explosion of moonlight.
When it came, she hardly flinched as the light blinded her. As it faded, she gazed around. Trees had replaced the stone walls of the cave; but this wasn’t ShadowClan’s forest. She was in the Fourtrees clearing. The flame-pelted tom stood at the foot of the great rock, his gray companion hanging back as stars swirled overhead.
Moth Flight watched them whirl against the night sky, spiraling down toward the clearing.
The flame-pelted tom backed away, his pelt bristling with alarm. Didn’t he know that these were the spirit-cats come to share with him?
The stars spun, melting into one another as they neared the ground, until they blazed like white fire.
Moth Flight blinked as cats emerged from the silver flames, their starry pelts more brilliant than ever. As they padded across the clearing, the white fire faded behind them.
The flame-pelted tom blinked at them, his eyes lighting in recognition. He lifted his tail and Moth Flight saw joy warm his gaze.
A golden tom padded forward, his thick fur like a mane around his head.
The flame-pelted tom greeted him. They exchanged words Moth Flight could not hear. Then the golden tom reached out his starry muzzle and touched the tom’s head.
The tom jerked as though fire seared him.
This is just like the others.
Moth Flight frowned. Why did she keep dreaming this, and always with different cats?
A red bushy-tailed tom approached the flame-pelted cat next, sending another spasm through him as he touched his nose to the tom’s head. Then a beautiful silver-pelted she-cat took his place. A lithe tabby tom followed. His touch set th
e flame-pelted tom’s fur rippling as though he were running through wind.
Why do I keep seeing this? Moth Flight’s paws itched with frustration. What does it mean?
Four more cats approached, each one’s touch scorching through the tom as though it had sparked lightning. And yet, as each spasm ended, the tom stood stronger, his chin higher.
He met the gaze of the last cat with eyes suddenly misted with emotion.
Moth Flight froze as the pretty tortoiseshell padded closer. Micah looked at me like that. She recognized love in the tom’s bright green eyes. The tortoiseshell’s amber gaze reflected it back with such intensity that Moth Flight’s breath stopped in her throat.
Grief swamped her. He’s in love with a dead cat! As shock jolted through her, she searched the starry ranks. Was Micah here? Would she have a chance to share such a look with him?
She recognized no cat.
Please come! Why couldn’t she make her dreams do what she wanted? She could only stand by, unheard and unseen, and witness what she could not understand.
It’s not fair!
Her throat tightened as she saw the tortoiseshell stretch her muzzle toward the flame-pelted tom.
He met her gaze, his eyes burning with joy and grief.
Her touch made his pelt glow, as though filling him with moonlight. He leaned in to her, unflinching.
Stop! Moth Flight backed away. She couldn’t bear to watch a moment longer. This all meant nothing! She didn’t know these cats! Why should she care? All she wanted was to see Micah, but she couldn’t!
Hissing, she lashed out a forepaw and slashed through the vision of the tortoiseshell. It was like raking starlit water. The light shattered into countless ripples and faded from view.
A wail welling in her throat, Moth Flight struggled into consciousness. Heart burning with loss, she blinked open her eyes into Sun Shadow’s hollow den.
CHAPTER 23
Moth Flight felt a paw push her shoulder. She struggled awake, her mouth dry, her eyes sticky with sleep.
“Moth Flight?” Pebble Heart sounded worried. “Are you okay?”
She lifted her head groggily and blinked at the dawn sunshine filtering into the den. “I’m . . .”
Pebble Heart’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m not used to giving poppy seeds,” he admitted. “I was worried you’d sleep for days.”
Moth Flight looked around, surprised by the dark brambles enclosing her nest. Where was the gorse?
A sick feeling hit her belly like rotten prey. “Micah’s dead.” She stared at Pebble Heart, a tiny spark of hope flickering beneath her pelt. Perhaps she’d dreamed it all.
But the medicine cat’s amber eyes glistened with sympathy. He leaned down and picked up a wad of dripping moss and laid it on the edge of her nest. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
Sadness swamped Moth Flight as she remembered the pool in Cloud Spots’s den. Micah had still been with her then. She lapped at the moss, her tongue welcoming the moisture.
“I brought you food too.” Pebble Heart draped a mouse over the side of her nest. It was still warm, freshly killed.
Moth Flight wrinkled her nose. “I’m not hungry.”
“But you must eat,” Pebble Heart reasoned.
“Why?” Moth Flight snorted rebelliously. “If I starve, I can join Micah in StarClan.”
“You mustn’t say that!” Pebble Heart’s eyes widened.
“Why not?” Anger rolled deep in Moth Flight’s belly.
“What about your Clanmates? And the other Clans?” Pebble Heart stared at her fiercely. “StarClan shared the secret of the Moonstone with you. You’re important!”
“And Micah’s not?” Moth Flight growled.
Pebble Heart stared at her sadly. “Perhaps he’s supposed to be with them.”
“His destiny,” she muttered bitterly. She pictured the rolling meadows of StarClan’s hunting grounds. Was Micah going to spend forever chasing spirit-rabbits while she worked her paws to the bone taking care of her Clanmates? “What about me? Does StarClan want me to be lonely? Is that my destiny? Am I just here to carry out their orders? I can’t even get a good night’s sleep because they haunt my dreams! Can’t they give me any peace?”
Pebble Heart’s eye flashed with curiosity. “They haunt your dreams?” he echoed. “How?”
“I dream of spirit-cats doing some dumb ceremony,” Moth Flight snapped. “The same thing, over and over again, but to different cats.”
Pebble Heart leaned closer. “What cats?”
“Why should I care?” Anger prickled beneath Moth Flight’s pelt.
Pebble Heart nudged the dripping moss with his paw. “Drink some more.”
“Stop trying to make me feel better, because you can’t!”
“I know,” he soothed. “But I want to know more about these dreams. They might be important.”
“Of course they’re important!” Moth Flight snapped. “But StarClan won’t tell me why. They just keep making me dream the same dream.” She lapped at the moss crossly.
“Perhaps, if you describe the dream exactly, we can work out what it means,” Pebble Heart urged.
Moth Flight swallowed back her anger. “I wake up at the Moonstone. And two cats come into the cave.”
“Do you recognize them?”
“No.” Moth Flight narrowed her eyes as the dream grew more vivid in her mind. “One of the cats sits at the Moonstone and, when the moonlight strikes it, the spirit-cats come.”
“StarClan?”
“I guess,” Moth Flight told him. “They have starry pelts but I don’t recognize any of them.”
“Go on.” Pebble Heart’s pelt twitched along his spine.
“The starry cats approach the living cat and, one at a time, they touch his head with their muzzle.” She shuddered. “It seems to hurt a lot. The real cat jerks like he’s been hit by lightning, but he doesn’t flinch away. He’s not scared. He just lets the spirit-cats touch him, one after another and at the end, he looks stronger. Kind of proud, like he’s been given a special gift.”
“Is it always a tom?”
Moth Flight shook her head. “The first time, it was a she-cat. I’d seen her before in a different dream. She was dead and then she came back to life.”
Pebble Heart shifted his paws, his gaze clouding with thought. “What gift could StarClan give a living cat?”
Moth Flight shrugged. “I just know it looks painful. I don’t think I’d want it.”
“Really?” Pebble Heart’s ear twitched. “But you’re the cat who went to Highstones and found the Moonstone. You’re the bravest cat I know. I think you’d endure anything if StarClan wished it.”
Moth Flight returned his gaze, her heart twisting. “I can’t endure losing Micah.” Her mew cracked.
Pebble Heart got to his paws. “Why don’t you come and visit Juniper Branch with me? She’s expecting Raven Pelt’s kits and I promised to check on her. She’s been having pains.”
“When are the kits due?”
“Not for another half moon.” Pebble Heart flicked his tail. “Join me. This will be the first litter I’ve helped with. We can both learn a lot.”
Moth Flight frowned. Pebble Heart was clearly trying to distract her from her grief. “No.” She dug her paws deeper into the nest. “I’m staying here.”
“Some fresh air might help you feel better.”
“I don’t want to feel better.” She crouched in the nest, glaring at him stubbornly.
Pebble Heart tipped his head sympathetically. “Okay. You rest. I guess there’s no rush.”
Moth Flight watched him duck out of the den, uncertain whether she wanted to be alone. But what use am I to anyone like this? She tucked her nose between her paws and closed her eyes. Sadness washed over her, wave after wave until she pushed every thought away and sought sanctuary in sleep.
She opened her eyes into another dream. She was standing in a wide meadow. The grass was wilting and the flowers had died. Mist swirled acros
s the ground and swallowed the sky. She glanced around, anxiety creeping beneath her fur as she strained to see through the murky fog. What was hiding there? Her heart quickened as she saw a shape. Broad shoulders, pricked ears, a long tail. It was a tom.
“Hello?” Moth Flight tasted the air warily.
Micah’s scent washed her tongue.
“Micah!” She raced toward the shadowy figure in the mist, the scent growing stronger as she neared. “It’s me! Moth Flight!”
The tom didn’t turn but kept moving, swinging his head from side to side as though searching.
“Micah!” She was only a tail-length away. Surely he could hear her! She caught up with him and dodged in front of him, trying desperately to catch his eye.
He walked through her as though she were part of the mist.
Her heart dropped like a stone. “No!” Rage swept through her. Why was she so powerless in her dreams? Helplessly, she watched Micah move through the mist, heading one way, then the other, his ears pricked, his mouth open. Is he looking for me? Pain stabbed her heart. Micah, I’m here!
She woke, trembling, and jerked up her head.
Sun Shadow was sitting beside her nest. “You were dreaming.”
Moth Flight blinked at him, the mist from her dream still fogging her thoughts. “What are you doing here?” She pushed herself to her paws. “Do you want your nest back?”
“No.” His whiskers twitched. “I thought you might want something to eat.”
“Pebble Heart brought me something earlier.” She scanned the edge of the nest but the mouse had gone.
“I gave it to Mouse Ear,” Sun Shadow told her. “He likes mice best.”
Moth Flight’s belly rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since Micah died. “Did you bring me something?” She looked hopefully over the side of her nest, surprised to feel hungry. Guilt flickered beneath her fur. Her stomach was acting like nothing had changed.
“Come hunting with me.” Sun Shadow nodded toward the den entrance where afternoon sunlight was turning the brambles golden. “You can catch your own prey.”