Another thought occurred to him, and he dropped his paw, his chest tightening. Stream was gone, but Earth was still four moons old. In two moons, would he still be sent on his wander?
Alone?
As the sun set and the stars rose, the Sisters gathered once more, this time in the remains of their camp. Looking around, Earth saw that the bushes that had been the nursery and the Sisters’ dens had been torn apart and flattened by the streams of mud and water that had raced through camp. One bush—Moonlight’s den, he thought—had been entirely uprooted and washed to the edge of the woods.
His tail drooped at the devastation around the camp. We won’t stay here, he thought. It had been such a good camp. Stream’s bones would lie here, held safe by the land, but Earth and the Sisters would be gone.
The she-cats gathered around Moonlight, and Earth hung back at the fringes of the group. Being a tom hadn’t felt as separate from the Sisters when there had been four of them. It was weird to be the only tom now.
“Tonight we sing our sister Haze into the sky,” Moonlight began. “She was a good Sister, and we lost her far too young. She should have grown to have her own kits and to travel the Sisters’ path for many leafrises. We will show her the way to her afterlife. If she would like to speak to any of us first, we would welcome her.” She glanced briefly at Earth and added, “And if Stream, or any of our ancestors, wishes to visit us, we would be glad to speak to them again.”
Then she raised her head and looked to the sky. Moonlight sang first, a high, mournful note, and the Sisters chimed in, their voices blending with hers as they rose to the sky.
Good-bye, Haze, Earth thought. He hoped the younger kit would find happiness in the afterlife. Would she come and visit them first? Would Stream? His fur prickled uneasily. He had never seen a spirit, hadn’t really wanted to. But he wanted to see Stream, didn’t he? And he couldn’t imagine his best friend didn’t want to see him.
He glanced around, a nervous hope rising inside him. I do want to see him.
Gradually, the singing trailed off, and the Sisters waited, their gazes turned expectantly toward the stars. Earth waited, too, glancing around eagerly, his eyes on the trees lower down the hill. He’ll come from the land, won’t he?
Sunrise gave a squeal of delight and leaped to her feet. “Haze! Are you okay?” She paused, her head cocked as if she was listening, then went on. “I’m glad. I was so scared when the water took you away.”
One after another, the other she-cats rose, their welcoming faces turned toward cats Earth couldn’t see.
“It’s been so long …”
“A few moons ago, we went past that Twopawplace where we lost you… .”
“New kits in your family since we spoke last …”
Finally, Petal gave a warm purr. “Stream, my kit, are you well?” Then she listened, her eyes bright for the first time since dawn had risen over Stream’s broken body two days before. Earth stared, blinked hard, stared again. He strained his eyes and ears, hoping to see even the slightest outline of a cat, to hear the faintest whisper of Stream’s meow.
He saw nothing.
The sky was beginning to lighten by the time the Sisters called their good-byes to the dead. Sunrise ran to Moonlight and pressed her face against her mother’s fur. “She’s gone,” she wailed.
Earth watched, feeling cold and empty, as Moonlight comforted his littermate. He was hovering just outside the group: when he’d realized that he was the only cat who couldn’t see the dead walking among them, he’d backed away, ashamed.
When Sunrise was calmer, she and Ice began to talk quietly, their heads close together, and Moonlight walked toward Earth.
“So,” she meowed when she reached him. “Stream was here. How was that for you?” Her eyes were sharp, and fixed on him.
Does she know I couldn’t see him? Earth wondered. For a heartbeat, he thought of lying, but what good would that do? He was a cat of the Sisters—a tom of the Sisters—and he would need the spirits of his ancestors to help him on his path.
“I didn’t see him,” he said dully. “I didn’t see any of them.”
Concern flickered across Moonlight’s face, and then she purred soothingly, “It takes some cats longer than others. You’ll get there, I’m sure.”
“Really? You don’t think there’s something wrong with me?” Earth asked.
“Of course not.” Moonlight dipped her head to lick his shoulder.
Earth wanted to believe her, and to be comforted. But he remembered two other young toms who had been sent away before they ever saw spirits. “What about Mud and Spider? Do you think they ever saw spirits? Did our ancestors come to them?”
Moonlight sighed. “I have to believe that they did,” she told him. “But they wandered, so we can never know for sure.”
Earth’s mouth went dry with dread. I’m never going to see my ancestors, he knew suddenly. If he had been going to, he would have seen Stream.
If Stream had lived, he would have been able to speak to the dead. If he and Earth had gone on their wander together, as they’d planned, Stream would have listened to their ancestors’ guidance for both of them. But Stream was gone now. Once Earth left the Sisters, no spirits would come to him. Once he left, he would be alone.
Chapter 3
Glumly, Earth sniffed at the roots of a pine tree and wrinkled his nose at its sharp scent. I hate it here. He was supposed to be practicing hunting, but he didn’t smell any of the shrews or mice that Hawk, his teacher for the day, had told him to search for. I miss Stream. Learning to hunt had been more fun with his friend beside him.
It was full leafshine now, sun warming the beds of pine needles and glinting off a little pond nearby. Part of Earth had to admit that this—their second new territory in the last two moons—was a good place for the Sisters.
It’s not like it matters for me. I won’t be here long. Giving up his halfhearted effort at hunting, Earth batted a twig out of his way as he meandered beneath the trees.
Since they had left the camp where Stream and Haze had died, it had felt to Earth like the Sisters were always traveling. And he was always trailing after them, alone, the only tom now except for one of Furze’s newborn kits, who was too young to count.
The Claw Stars would align to send him on his wander in just a few days. He’d been watching them, full of dread, as they moved closer and closer to where they’d be when he had to go. Earth’s stomach clenched anxiously at the thought.
If Stream had still been alive, they’d have been leaving together. They’d have looked out for each other, given each other courage. The ancestors would have come to them and guided their paw steps. If Earth saw the ancestor spirits on his own, he might run for his life like a hunted mouse, he thought glumly.
And what would happen if the ancestor spirits tried to speak to him, but he couldn’t see them? Would they be angry? Earth swallowed hard and swiped another twig out of his way.
“You call this hunting?” Earth jumped at Hawk’s sharp meow. He’d been thinking so hard he hadn’t even heard her come up behind him.