Or at least that had been the plan. But now Mudfur was dying. There was no way he could travel. We can’t leave him to die alone, Mothwing thought, stroking his side with her tail.
Leopardstar came through the reeds and looked down at her father, her eyes clouded with grief. “How long?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Mothwing told her. “Not long.”
Leopardstar nodded. “I’ll tell the Clan. We’ll wait until the end. He’s served RiverClan well, and we should honor him.”
As she left, Shadepelt came into the medicine clearing. “I wanted to say good-bye,” the dark gray elder meowed sadly. “Mudfur and I were kits together.” Sighing, she sat beside Mudfur and pressed her nose against his cheek.
They sat together in silence, Mothwing comforted by Shadepelt’s steady presence. Mudfur’s breathing grew slower and slower. Mothwing had given him a last dose of poppy seeds at dawn, but now he was too far gone to swallow any more. It was just a matter of time.
A little later, Runningnose, the ShadowClan medicine cat, came through the reeds into the clearing, Cinderpelt and Leafpaw trailing behind him.
“Firestar is here,” Leafpaw told Mothwing. “And he’s brought Frostfur and Speckletail, our elders. They want to care for Mudfur when RiverClan leaves.”
Mothwing shook her head. “They won’t need to. There’s nothing more any cat can do.” She looked down at Mudfur’s still form, her shoulders sinking. “At least he’s not in pain. I’ve made sure of that.”
Runningnose stepped forward and pressed his muzzle to Mudfur’s shoulder. “Go swiftly to StarClan, my friend. We will look after your Clanmates.” Cinderpelt and Leafpaw buried their noses in Mudfur’s fur, their eyes closed.
With one last shuddering gasp, Mudfur grew still. As the other cats pulled back, their faces full of grief, Mothwing closed Mudfur’s golden eyes for the last time with a gentle paw. “He’s with StarClan now,” she announced sadly, hoping it was true. He had believed he would be.
She gasped as the thought of StarClan brought a new wave of panic. How could she take care of her Clan, if she didn’t even know if StarClan was real?
Mothwing was confident that she could care for the health of her Clan, but Mudfur had been RiverClan’s connection to StarClan. Now the Clan would be turning to Mothwing to interpret StarClan’s wishes. How could she do any of this—her whole life—without her wise mentor? “How will I manage without him?” she asked. Her meow sounded harsh and frantic to her own ears.
Cinderpelt nuzzled her. “You’ll be fine. And there will be time to grieve, but not now.”
Mothwing looked around at the medicine cats, taking comfort in their sad, calm gazes—they believed Mudfur was in StarClan—and took a deep breath before padding back out to tell RiverClan that Mudfur was dead.
As the cats wailed in grief and then began, one by one, to stream through the tunnel to pay their respects to Mudfur for the last time, Mothwing felt numb. She heard what was going on, but it was as if she were at a great distance from her Clanmates. Cold rain trickled through her fur, and Mothwing stared up at the gray morning sky. Was StarClan up there somewhere? Was Mudfur among them?
Mothwing couldn’t make herself believe that Mudfur’s spirit had traveled anywhere. He was dead. Whatever was left of him was lying in the medicine den’s clearing. The elders would watch over all that remained of Mudfur.
Hawkfrost, with Stormfur beside him, came over to Mothwing. Hawkfrost’s gaze was softer than Mothwing had seen in a long time, and he rested his muzzle on her head, giving her silent support. Mothwing closed her eyes, pressed her face into his fur, and breathed Hawkfrost’s familiar scent. He’s all I have left, she thought.
Leafpaw came and spoke to her, but Mothwing barely heard her friend. When she lifted her head, she found Leafpaw and Cinderpelt gathering the remaining stores of herbs in the den, making sure nothing was left behind. “I can do that,” Mothwing offered weakly. “I want to help.”
After all, even in the midst of their grief, every cat was doing their part to prepare for their journey—cleaning out dens and bundling up the remains of the prey. She needed to prepare too. But Cinderpelt and Leafpaw returned her gaze with sympathy in their eyes. “You’ve already done so much,” Cinderpelt mewed. “Let us help.”
After a long moment, Mothwing nodded gratefully. She realized then that she was wrong. Hawkfrost was not all she had left. No cat would ever replace Mudfur, but she could turn to these medicine cats—they were from different Clans, but they were all healers, and that was more important. She felt the weight on her lighten with relief.
Soon, every cat assembled in what had been the center of their camp while Leopardstar addressed them. She announced that Loudbelly and Shadepelt, as well as the ThunderClan elders, had decided to stay behind rather than travel to find an unknown territory. They would sit vigil over Mudfur while RiverClan left with the other Clans.
At least he won’t be alone, thought Mothwing. Then, glancing from her brother to her fellow medicine cats, she added silently, And neither will I.
“Are we ready?” Leopardstar asked the Clan. Mothwing opened her eyes and got to her paws. All around her, RiverClan was preparing, their tails high and their eyes determined, ready to go. She saw among them so many that Mudfur had treated and restored to health. But Mudfur was gone, and they would need Mothwing to take care of them through injury and illness on their journey and in their new home. I’m responsible for RiverClan now.
“I have traveling herbs for us all, Leopardstar,” she said, her meow calm, and turned toward the medicine den.
Hawkfrost stuck close to Mothwing, padding beside her as they left RiverClan’s territory for the last time. ThunderClan and ShadowClan were waiting for them at the edge of the forest. WindClan would meet them on the moor before they all left Clan territory entirely.
What’s left of it, Mothwing thought, looking out across what had been ThunderClan’s camp. The huge yellow Twoleg monsters had dug deep gouges in the earth and slaughtered many trees, leaving shockingly bare patches. Beyond where she could see, she knew that Fourtrees was gone and the Great Rock had been torn from the earth.
Her fur brushed Hawkfrost’s, and she glanced at him to see him looking back at RiverClan’s camp, an expression of longing on his face. This had been the first place they had been safe. The place where a Clan had taken them in and taught them how to not be rogues. To depend on cats other than themselves. Wherever we go, I’ll never forget this home, she promised herself.
As they crossed through what remained of the forest, she spotted a flash of tawny fur between the trees. A moment later, Sasha slipped out and stood in the Clans’ path, her tail held high. Mothwing’s heart lifted for the first time since Mudfur had died. We couldn’t have left without saying good-bye, she realized. She raced toward Sasha and rubbed against her legs, rolling on the ground like a kit. Hawkfrost followed her more slowly and looked at Sasha, his ears twitching.
“I’m glad to see you,” he mewed quietly. “RiverClan is leaving, I don’t know if we’ll find each other again.”
Sasha’s blue eyes were troubled. “Don’t go with them,” she pleaded.
Mothwing stilled, then climbed to her paws to look their mother in the eye. “But this is our Clan,” she argued. “You brought us to them so we could become warriors.”
Sasha shook her head. “I brought you here so you’d be safe,” she protested. “It’s not safe now. I’ve seen what happened here. Come with me and we’ll be together again.”