As the light began to fade, the cats of RiverClan gathered around the body of their former leader for the start of the long night vigil. The air was filled with the scent of herbs, and the wind had dropped so that the waves were little more than a gentle whisper beyond the bushes. Mistyfoot sat at Leopardstar’s head, watching her Clanmates file sadly past.
Mothwing appeared beside her. “Are you ready to name your deputy? The moon is rising.”
The cats closest to them pricked their ears, and Mistyfoot felt their gazes prick her pelt. She nodded and stood up. “Let all cats old enough to swim gather to hear my words!”
At once the line of cats stopped moving and turned to face her. They all knew what was coming. Would they approve of her choice? Mistyfoot wondered. Once more she felt her legs tremble beneath the weight of new duties, and she took a step toward Mothwing so she could draw strength from the warmth of the medicine cat’s fur.
“It is time for me to name my deputy,” Mistyfoot announced, her voice sounding sharp and high-pitched in the cool night air. “Reedwhisker, I invite you to walk beside me and help me to lead this Clan. May StarClan hear and approve my choice.”
There was a moment of silence; then the cats broke into cheers. “Reedwhisker! Congratulations!”
Mistyfoot’s son stepped forward, his dark gray eyes shining. “I am honored to be chosen,” he purred. “And I will lay down my life to protect you and my Clanmates.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Mistyfoot told him. She stretched out her neck to rest her muzzle on top of his head. Reedwhisker’s fur still smelled as it had when he was her kit.
There was a cross-sounding mutter from the shadows at the edge of the clearing: “I bet she only chose him because he’s her son!”
“Hush, Mossypaw!” snapped Minnowtail. “Reedwhisker is a loyal and brave warrior, and will make a great deputy.”
I hope so, thought Mistyfoot. She had expected some criticism for naming her son as her deputy, but she wanted to believe that wasn’t the reason behind her decision.
“A brave choice,” murmured Mothwing in her ear. “But the right one, I think.”
Mistyfoot felt a bit better, but she would have been more comforted if Mothwing had mentioned some sign of approval from StarClan, or even an omen that foresaw her announcement.
“Excuse me, Mistyfoot?” Duskfur was standing in front of her. “Is it okay if I take my little ones off now? They’re getting tired.”
Mistyfoot looked at the two kits, who were yawning and blinking their huge, round eyes. “Of course,” she purred.
As Duskfur herded her family across the clearing, the line of cats started moving again.
“Farewell, Leopardstar. May you have good hunting in StarClan.”
“We’ll meet again, old friend. Save me a place to enjoy the sun.”
“Wow! I’ve never seen a dead body before! What’s all that green stuff on her fur?”
“Rushpaw, go to your den if you can’t behave properly. And put that watermint down!”
Finally Mistyfoot was alone in the clearing with Leopardstar and the elders, who would stay beside their former leader all night. Mistyfoot bent and touched her muzzle to Leopardstar’s cool, leaf-thin ear. “May the sun warm your back and the fish leap into your paws,” she murmured.
“I haven’t heard that said for a long time,” rasped Pouncetail. “Not since we lived in the forest.”
“Graypool used to say it when Stonefur and I were going to sleep,” Mistyfoot mewed. “It was her way of wishing us good dreams.”
“Ah, Stonefur,” sighed Pouncetail. “I still miss him.” He looked at Mistyfoot, narrowing his eyes through the gloom. “You had much to forgive Leopardstar for, didn’t you?”
Mistyfoot swallowed. “She was a good leader for most of her life,” she replied. “That is what she should be remembered for.” She lay down with her nose pressed against Leopardstar’s fur. I promise to be the strongest, wisest leader I can be. I will do my best to echo your loyalty to RiverClan and your courage to speak out on our behalf, and I will learn from your mistakes. I know that I don’t need to prove to the other Clans that RiverClan is the strongest or most powerful. I just want my Clanmates to be happy and at peace.
“And that is the best ambition of all,” murmured a voice behind her.
Mistyfoot sprang up and spun around. A gray cat stood behind her, this thick fur glowing with starlight. “Stonefur!”
The cat nodded. “Did you think I would miss this night?” he meowed. “I have been watching you all this time, and I am so proud that you are going to lead our Clan.”
Mistyfoot’s tail drooped. “It should have been you.”
Stonefur shook his head. “That was not my destiny. I wish you well, Mistyfoot. You will need great courage for what lies ahead, but remember that you are not alone. I will always walk beside you. We will meet again soon.”
His fur began to fade, until Mistyfoot could see the dark leaves on the bushes behind him. “Wait!” she called. “What do you mean? Why will I need great courage? Is there a battle coming?”
But there was no answer, just a muffled snore from Pouncetail, who was sleeping beside her. Mistyfoot stared wildly around the clearing, but her brother had gone. Had he been trying to warn her that something dreadful was on the horizon? There was no chance that Mistyfoot would be able to sleep now. She padded carefully past the sleeping elders and went to the entrance of the medicine cats’ den.
“Mothwing!” she called in a loud whisper.
There was a faint murmur from behind the boulders; then the medicine cat appeared. She looked wide-eyed and ruffled, as if she hadn’t been able to sleep either. “What it is?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”
“I need to go to the Moonpool now!” Mistyfoot told her. “Stonefur visited me in a dream, and there are things I need to ask him.”
Mothwing looked alarmed. “Why? What did he say?”
“Nothing that made sense!” Mistyfoot hissed. “Come on, we have to go!”
“It would be safer to wait until dawn,” Mothwing hedged. “Since we have to cross WindClan territory.”
“No, we have to leave now,” Mistyfoot insisted. “If trouble is coming, RiverClan cannot be without a leader any longer! There is so much I have to learn!”
Mothwing padded out from her den and shook a few clinging scraps of herb from her fur. “Yes,” she murmured. “There is more to learn than you know.”
Chapter 3
The first light of dawn was beginning to appear on the horizon when Mistyfoot and Mothwing reached the top of WindClan’s ridge. It had been too early for any patrols, so they had crossed the moor unchallenged, traveling in silence apart from the soft brush of their paws on the grass. Mistyfoot paused to catch her breath at the crest of the hill and looked back down at the lake. The water looked thick and almost black from here, pushing against the curls and points of the shoreline. The RiverClan camp was a dark smudge on the far side; Mistyfoot pictured the cats in the clearing, and she wondered if any of them were looking up at the ridge at this moment, spotting her silhouetted against the milky sunrise.
Beside her, Mothwing shifted her paws. “We should keep going,” she meowed. Mistyfoot was surprised that she didn’t seem more excited about the nine lives ceremony. Was visiting the Moonpool and sharing tongues with StarClan just a matter of routine for medicine cats?
Their pace slowed as they began the long, steep scramble over the rocks. Mistyfoot had only traveled this way once before, and she had forgotten how hard it was—or perhaps her legs had just grown older.