With a last huff of annoyance, Jayfeather turned and stalked up to the bushes, his scrawny frame slipping easily between the branches. Leafpool gave Crowfeather a sympathetic look as she followed, and Crowfeather dipped his head in return, no longer trying to explain. Leafpool always understood me.
Kestrelflight was the last of the cats to push his way through. “I won’t forget,” he promised Crowfeather before he disappeared.
Left alone, Crowfeather settled himself in the shelter of the bushes, his paws tucked under him while he looked out across the moon-washed landscape. He could see the dips and swells of the moor, and far away in the distance a dark mass that must be the forest. Behind him he could hear the soft splashing of a waterfall, and imagined the starlit cascade falling endlessly into the Moonpool. After a short while, he slept.
Once again he was in the tunnels, following Ashfoot, who whisked around the corners ahead of him in a swirl of pale light.
“What are you trying to tell me now?” he called after her. “Are you really here, or am I just dreaming?”
But Ashfoot didn’t reply. This time she led him out of the darkness and through a forest filled with translucent dawn mist. Dew-laden grass brushed at Crowfeather’s pelt and soaked it as he trod in his mother’s paw steps.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked Ashfoot.
His mother did not reply. Instead she halted at the top of a shallow dip in the ground, and waved Crowfeather on with a swish of her tail. Looking down into the hollow, Crowfeather recognized the pool at the bottom, surrounded by ferns, where he had found Nightcloud’s blood and her scent, almost overwhelmed by the reek of fox.
Horrified, Crowfeather turned back toward Ashfoot. “Why?”
But his mother had disappeared. Reluctantly, every step an effort, Crowfeather padded down toward the edge of the pool. Before he reached it, the fern fronds stirred slightly, and he saw that a cat was lying among them. A black she-cat, with blood pulsing from a wound in her side…
“Nightcloud…,” he whispered.
Nightcloud raised her head to look at him, fury glaring from her eyes. “Don’t you see me?” she hissed. “Don’t you?”
Crowfeather jerked into wakefulness. His legs were shaking and his heart was pounding as if it was going to burst out of his chest. What does it mean? he asked himself. He heard an echo of Nightcloud’s words in his mind, and desperately tried to hold on to her fading image. Grief stabbed at him as they slipped away from him like water through his paws. Have I missed something?
The sound of paw steps and the murmuring voices of cats came from behind the barrier of bushes. Crowfeather sprang to his paws and gave his pelt a shake, desperate not to show how distraught he was. If I had to explain myself to Jayfeather…
His ThunderClan son was the first cat to emerge from the bushes. He swept one sightless glance across Crowfeather and then ignored him, leaping sure-pawed down the rocky slope. Leafpool followed, giving a polite dip of her head to Crowfeather, with Willowshine and Littlecloud after her.
Kestrelflight was the last to emerge. As soon as Crowfeather saw him, he knew that something had happened. The medicine cat was bristling with excitement, and his eyes shone like small moons.
“Did you find her?” Crowfeather demanded, stepping up to him.
Kestrelflight paused, checking that the other medicine cats were on their way home, well out of earshot. “Ashfoot or Nightcloud?” he asked.
“Either. Both.” But Ashfoot couldn’t be in StarClan, he reminded himself. She was just with me, here.
“Well, I didn’t see Ashfoot…” Kestrelflight was drawing out his news, almost teasingly. “But I found Barkface. And he said that Nightcloud isn’t anywhere in StarClan. That means that there must be hope for her!”
Crowfeather stared at him, briefly confused. He wondered, could Nightcloud be with Ashfoot, trapped between here and StarClan? Could she, too, be trying to tell him something? But then he realized that if that were true, Ashfoot would have told him long before. He had given up on Nightcloud too easily. She asked me, “Don’t you see me?” Is this what she meant?
Crowfeather’s grief gave way to a great surge of hope and optimism, like a massive wave carrying him away.
She’s alive!
Chapter 18
The sun was rising, shining palely through a thin covering of cloud, when Crowfeather staggered back into camp, exhausted after his trek across the moor and the excitement of discovering that Nightcloud might be alive.
Yawning and foggy from lack of sleep, Crowfeather’s first instinct was to look for Breezepelt. At last I have some good news to tell him! And if Nightcloud’s alive, we have to figure out why she hasn’t come back.
But as he headed for the warriors’ den, Crowfeather spotted a group of cats clustered around the medicine-cat den, and his ears pricked at the sound of their excited chatter. He exchanged a puzzled glance with Kestrelflight.
“That’s odd…,” the medicine cat murmured. He bounded over to join their Clanmates, and Crowfeather followed.
“What’s going on?” he asked Whitetail.
The small white elder turned to him with gleaming eyes. “Featherpaw is awake!” she purred.
A huge wave of relief surged through Crowfeather. “That’s great news!” he exclaimed.
Kestrelflight had already vanished into his den. Crowfeather thrust his way through the crowd of cats until he came to the entrance. As he reached it, the medicine cat reappeared in the cleft, looking pleased and harassed at the same time.
“No, you can’t come in,” he meowed, speaking in general to all his Clanmates. “Featherpaw is going to be fine, but she needs rest and quiet. Go hunt, or kill a few stoats or something, but don’t hang around here.”
Crowfeather was about to withdraw again, then halted as Kestrelflight spotted him and beckoned him with a wave of his tail. “You can come in, Crowfeather,” he mewed. “She wants to see you.”
Crowfeather was aware of one or two disapproving hisses as he slipped into the den behind Kestrelflight, but he ignored them. He felt too happy to start a quarrel with any Clanmate. I got Featherpaw into this mess, and she still wants to see me!
Sedgewhisker and Emberfoot were crouching beside the apprentice’s nest, relief and excitement in their eyes. They rose to their paws as Kestrelflight entered, leading Crowfeather. Sedgewhisker bent her head over her daughter and murmured, “We’ll fetch you some fresh-kill and a nice clump of wet moss.” She and Emberfoot slipped past Crowfeather; to his relief, they didn’t notice him as he drew back into the shadows beside the den wall.
When they had left, Crowfeather padded forward to see Featherpaw lying in her nest of moss and bracken; she raised her head and blinked sleepily at Crowfeather as he approached.
“Featherpaw, I’m so sorry I put you in danger,” Crowfeather mewed, crouching down beside her.
His apprentice’s eyes stretched wider at his words. “But you didn’t!” she protested. “I don’t remember much of what happened, but I know it wasn’t your fault. Hootpaw and I and the others decided we wanted to be in the battle. You didn’t force us to do anything.”
“But I’m your mentor. I shouldn’t have told you to be so aggressive. I put you in danger, and—”
“No,” Featherpaw interrupted. “That was just advice, and it was good advice. The other apprentices and I made the choice to join in the battle. We were angry at being left out, and when we got there, we thought the stoats didn’t look so threatening — but we were wrong. You’re the best mentor in all the Clans!”