“Of course,” Leafpool meowed. “StarClan will light my path.”
Her sister nodded to the blackbird. “Do you want something to eat before you go?”
“No, I want to be there by nightfall.” Leafpool touched her muzzle to Squirrelflight’s and turned away before the she-cats could ask any more questions. In spite of the heaviness inside her belly, her steps felt light and quick. StarClan would show her what she must do!
The storm hit just as Leafpool started the rocky climb up to the hollow where the Moonpool lay. Freezing wind buffeted her fur and flung sharp pellets of hail at her until her skin was soaked and sore. Leafpool lowered her head and plodded on, sinking her claws into the mud between the rocks so the wind wouldn’t blow her off the path. Inside her, the kits seemed to curl up in fear.
Don’t be scared, little ones. I will keep you safe.
Leafpool was trembling so much from cold and exhaustion when she reached the top of the hollow that her paws could hardly carry her down the print-marked spiral path. She stumbled to the edge of the Moonpool, ruffled and black in the half-light, and let her body fold onto the hard stone. Waves splashed against her muzzle. Too tired to utter a prayer to StarClan, Leafpool plunged into sleep.
She opened her eyes in a warm green forest, with sunlight slicing between the branches. There was the scent of prey on the air, and the rustle of a small furry animal in a nearby patch of ferns. Leafpool looked around for the StarClan warriors she hoped to see—and saw a slender dark gray cat watching her with his head on one side.
“Your turn, Leafpool,” he prompted. He nudged a ball of moss with his forepaw. “Remember what I showed you about pouncing.”
Crowfeather! Then she was not in StarClan, but back in a memory of the time she had spent with the WindClan warrior, in the woods beyond the ThunderClan border.
Crowfeather flicked his tail. “Don’t be afraid of some moss!” he teased. “Rabbits have teeth and claws to fight back with, but this won’t hurt you.”
Leafpool crouched down and crept toward the moss. She flattened her ears, shifted her weight onto her haunches, and sprang forward with her legs outstretched. At the very last moment, Crowfeather rolled the ball of moss away with his paw and Leafpool’s claws grasped at thin air.
“Oh no!” Crowfeather purred. “It escaped!”
Leafpool whirled around and jumped onto the moss, ripping it to shreds. “Take that!” she hissed. “You won’t get away from me!” She looked up at the dark gray tom, laughter bubbling inside her. “I haven’t played this game since I was a kit!” she mewed.
Crowfeather narrowed his eyes. “I can tell!”
Leafpool launched herself at him, knocking him onto the fallen leaves. “Think I can’t hunt, hmmm? I can catch you anytime I want!” She found herself standing over him, gazing down into his blue eyes.
“I’d never run away from you,” Crowfeather whispered. “Ow!”
Leafpool jumped backward. “Did I hurt you?”
Crowfeather was sitting up and licking at the base of his spine. “No, I think I lay on a thistle.”
“Let me look.” Leafpool pushed his muzzle away and parted the hair on his back. “There’s a tiny prickle stuck in you. Hold still…” She bent closer and gripped the end of the thorn in her teeth. It slid free easily, and Leafpool rubbed the spot with her paw. “There, you’ll live!”
Crowfeather nuzzled her cheek. “Thank StarClan I had a medicine cat to save me!”
“Let’s climb a tree!” Leafpool suggested. She walked over to a moss-covered oak and stared up at the branches.
Crowfeather padded over to join her. “I don’t see why we can’t stay on the ground,” he muttered. “We’re cats, not squirrels!”
“Come on,” Leafpool urged. “You know it’s not as hard as it looks, and the view from the top is worth it!” She jumped up to the lowest branch and used her front paws to haul herself onto the next one. Crowfeather followed, moving more carefully than Leafpool, but light-footed and nimble thanks to his slender frame. The branches were strong and dry, with deeply-ridged bark that made it easy to grip with their claws. Leafpool was hardly out of breath when she reached the top of the oak and broke through the leaves. Crowfeather popped out beside her, clinging so hard to the slender branch that Leafpool felt it sway beneath them.
“It’s okay,” she mewed. “I won’t let you fall.”
Crowfeather blinked. “Neither of us has wings, Leafpool, so you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t like how high up we are.”
“But look how far we can see!”
They were on the other side of the ridge from the lake, out of sight of any of the Clan territories. In front of them, the land unrolled in dips and curves all the way to the dark line of mountains on the horizon. Here and there, Twoleg dens clustered in small reddish groups, but mostly the view was empty.
Leafpool shuffled closer to Crowfeather and leaned her head against his shoulder. His pelt smelled of grass and the breeze, with a faint hint of rabbit underneath. “There is so much land beyond our homes,” she whispered.
Crowfeather rubbed his chin on the top of her head. “Somewhere out there is a place we can be together all the time. You know that, don’t you, Leafpool?”
Still tucked against him, she nodded. “I wonder if we’ll ever find it,” she murmured.
She felt the dark gray cat tense beside her. “I would give my last breath trying,” he vowed.
Suddenly a gust of wind rocked the top of the tree. In a heartbeat, Crowfeather was flung off the branch. Leafpool shrieked in horror as his body plunged downward. She tried to jump down after him, but the wind was so fierce that the branch leaped and bucked beneath her. She clung on, flattening her ears, as rain pelted against her and the forest and the view disappeared in swirling darkness.
“Help!” she wailed. “Crowfeather!”
The branch under her paws vanished and her claws scraped against cold stone. The wind faded and Leafpool realized she was standing beside the Moonpool. A pair of eyes gleamed in the shadows and a familiar scent wreathed around her.
“Spottedleaf!” she mewed in relief.
The tortoiseshell she-cat walked forward. Her pelt glowed with starlight and her eyes were like tiny yellow moons.
Leafpool felt her kits cold and unmoving in her belly. Had the journey through the storm harmed them? “Are my kits all right?” she begged.
“Yes, they are well,” Spottedleaf meowed. Her voice cracked with sorrow. “Oh, Leafpool, what you have done? You foolish cat!”
Leafpool flinched, feeling the lash of Spottedleaf’s tongue like a blow. “But I…”
“You can’t make excuses,” Spottedleaf warned. “It’s too late for that, don’t you think?”
“Spottedleaf, hush!” A thick-furred gray cat lumbered across the stone. Her flattened muzzle and stained teeth shone with the same light as her Clanmate. “Leafpool knows what she has done.”
Spottedleaf narrowed her eyes. “If you can see a way out of this, you’re a wiser cat than I am, Yellowfang.”
The old medicine cat twitched one matted ear. “Wisdom comes in many shapes. Now, leave us alone.” She pointed into the shadows with her nose. Spottedleaf glanced once more at Leafpool, then padded away.
Leafpool crouched on the ground, not daring to move. She waited for Yellowfang to tell her how reckless she had been, how she had dishonored medicine cats everywhere. But to her surprise, she felt a rough tongue licking her head. Shaking, Leafpool let herself relax against the old she-cat.
“Oh little one,” Yellowfang rasped, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s hardly your fault,” Leafpool pointed out, her voice muffled by Yellowfang’s fur.
“You know, you’re not the first medicine cat to have this happen,” the old cat mewed.