“We must not stay long,” Blackstar was muttering. “The snows will only get worse.” He looked around as Leafpaw approached.
“This is Stoneteller.” Leafpaw dipped her head and backed away.
“You are healer?” Stoneteller asked Firestar.
“I’m leader of ThunderClan,” he replied. “Cinderpelt is our Clan healer.” He flicked his tail toward Cinderpelt, who was watching them with interest from the other side of the cave. “This is Blackstar, Leopardstar, and Tallstar.” Firestar nodded to the three leaders in turn.
“You are all leaders?”
“Yes, we are,” Leopardstar meowed.
Stoneteller’s gaze rested on Tallstar, whose eyes were half-closed with exhaustion. “You are not well,” he meowed. “We give you herbs.” He glanced over his shoulder, catching the eye of a gray tabby she-cat. “Bird, bring strengthening herbs.”
The tabby slipped away down one of the tunnels.
“The Tribe is grateful to your friends for killing Sharptooth.
To Feathertail most of all. Her spirit will always be remembered by us.”
“She had her father’s courage,” Firestar agreed, and Leafpaw winced to hear the grief still raw in his voice when he thought of Graystripe.
“You must eat and rest,” Stoneteller went on.
“But after that we must continue our journey,” Blackstar meowed.
Stoneteller dipped his head. “We would not delay you.”
Bird returned with a mouthful of herbs and laid them in front of Tallstar.
Leafpaw felt her whiskers twitch with curiosity. “What herbs are those?”
Stoneteller’s amber eyes gleamed in the half-light.
“I am learning to be a healer,” Leafpaw explained quickly.
“I know the herbs of the forest, but in the mountains…” She paused. “Everything is so different here.”
“I hope she isn’t bothering you.” Cinderpelt’s soft mew sounded beside them. “She’s very inquisitive.”
“Inquisitive is good in a healer,” Stoneteller rasped. “She will learn much.” He blinked kindly at Leafpaw. “The herbs are ragwort and lamb’s ears. Good for strength.”
“May I see some later, so I can recognize them if I find them again?”
“Of course.” Leafpaw felt warmth in this wise old cat’s voice, and she longed to learn from him, to understand the differences between Tribe and Clan. “Wing said you knew we were coming,” she meowed. “Is that true?”
Stoneteller nodded. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting showed me.”
“Do you share dreams with your ancestors?” Cinderpelt asked.
“Share dreams?” he echoed. “No, I interpret the signs of rock and leaf and water, and know that this is the voice of the Tribe of Endless Hunting.”
“Cinderpelt interprets signs for our Clan,” Leafpaw mewed eagerly. “Signs sent by StarClan. She’s teaching me how to read them too.”
“She has a natural talent for it,” Cinderpelt added.
“Then perhaps she would like to see the Cave of Pointed Stones,” Stoneteller suggested.
“Cave of Pointed Stones?” Leafpaw echoed. “Is that like our Moonstone?”
“I do not know your Moonstone,” murmured Stoneteller as he turned toward one of the dark tunnels that led from the cave. “If it is the place where the voices of your ancestors speak loudest, then yes, it is like your Moonstone.”
Her tail twitching with excitement, Leafpaw padded after Cinderpelt and Stoneteller down the narrow passage. She wondered if they would have to travel as far down into the darkness of the earth as they did to reach the Moonstone; but within a few tail-lengths the passage opened out into another cave, sealed by walls of slippery rock.
Blinking as her eyes adjusted to the gloom, Leafpaw peered around. It was much smaller than the main cave, but many more stone claws reached down from the roof, and some stretched up from the ground. A few had joined together, like paws meeting, and in the pale light that seeped from a gap in the roof, Leafpaw saw that they glistened with water, which trickled down into pools on the hard stone floor.
Stoneteller touched one of the pools with his paw and sent ripples flashing across it. “The snow will melt, and these pools will grow, and when starlight shines I will see in them what the Tribe of Endless Hunting wishes me to know.”
“How often do you share with the Tribe of Endless Hunting?” Cinderpelt asked.
“When the pools form,” Stoneteller replied.
“We meet at half-moon to share with StarClan…”
Leafpaw found her gaze drifting around the cave. She padded away from where Cinderpelt and Stoneteller were exchanging experiences and weaved among the stone claws until they were hidden from sight. Her paws felt heavy, and tiredness weighed on her pelt like water. She lay down on the damp stone floor and rested her nose upon her paws, mesmerized by the glitter of water dripping from stone. She closed her eyes. StarClan? Are you here?
Her mind swirled with the sound of rushing water. At the very edge of her thoughts, she heard the roaring of a lion and saw the rippling of shadowy pelts—pelts she did not recognize. Who are you? she asked desperately. Voices breathed back to her, speaking words she did not understand. Panic flooded Leafpaw, and she blinked open her eyes.
StarClan was not here. She could hear only the voices of the Tribe’s ancestors. Leafpaw had never felt so alone in her life.
Though Leafpaw begged her father to let another cat take her place, Firestar insisted she sleep beside Cinderpelt in one of the feather-lined nests on the cave floor.
“The Clan needs its medicine cats now more than ever,” he told her. “You must rest well.”
How could she rest? It was all she could do to lick her ruffled, dirty fur. She just hoped Cinderpelt had not noticed the alarm in her eyes after visiting the Pointed Stones. What will we do without StarClan? The thought raced around her mind like a mouse trapped in its hole.
Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw were already asleep, curled up together near the back of the cave. As Leafpaw kneaded the soft feathers beside Cinderpelt, she saw Brook slip out of the cave, followed by Crowpaw and Stormfur. “Where are they going?” she whispered to Cinderpelt.
“They’re going to sit vigil for Feathertail,” Cinderpelt murmured, closing her eyes.
Leafpaw settled down beside her mentor and tucked her tail over her nose. She wondered which ancestors Feathertail hunted with now. She pressed close to Cinderpelt, seeking comfort from her warm gray fur. How could she sleep knowing that StarClan had not come with them on this journey?
But she was exhausted, and as soon as she closed her eyes, she felt sleep draw her in.
A shining expanse of water spread before her, its indigo surface glittering with stars. Nothing stirred. Even the wind was still. Leafpaw watched the water, too scared look up in case the stars she saw reflected on the water were just an illusion. What if the sky was empty? It would be yet another sign that StarClan weren’t here.
Suddenly a breath of wind ruffled her fur. Leafpaw stared into the darkness, her fur quivering. A cat was speaking to her, so softly she could barely hear. She lifted her nose. The wind carried a familiar scent, too faint for her to be sure which cat it belonged to.
“Who’s there?” she cried.
The wind blew harder, swelling the sound of the whispering voice until Leafpaw could just make out what it was saying: “Wherever you go, we will search for you.”
Leafpaw turned to see the gentle face of Spottedleaf beside her. The tortoiseshell medicine cat’s eyes glimmered, reflecting the starry waters, but her body shivered like a heat haze, no more solid than the stars in the water.
“You haven’t left us!” Leafpaw breathed.