Trees loomed around her. This wasn’t StarClan’s land. She recognized the dank scent of rotting wood, sharpened by the smell of pinesap. This was ShadowClan territory.
Feline shapes moved among the trees, their shadowy pelts glittering with starlight. Spirit-cats! She scanned the starry cats, hoping to see a familiar pelt, but these weren’t the StarClan cats she knew. Heart racing, she backed toward a tree, hoping she couldn’t be seen. Her fur rippled with fear. These cats moved with solemn purpose and the dark tabby seemed to be waiting for them, his gaze blazing expectantly in the darkness.
His eyes narrowed as a sparkling tom approached him. Moth
Flight saw the spirit-cat speak, but she couldn’t make out the words. As the tom stepped away, a small ginger she-cat took his place. The she-cat spoke and the dark tabby answered, disdain sparking in his gaze.
Doesn’t he respect his ancestors? Moth Flight leaned closer, pelt pricking with interest.
The she-cat reached her muzzle forward and touched the dark tabby’s head.
The tabby jerked as though agony flared through him.
This is like the time I saw the blue-gray cat in the cave!
Moth Flight remembered her dream. Why did the touch of these spirit-cats seem to cause so much pain?
Moth Flight narrowed her eyes, her breath quickening as one after another, the spirit-cats stepped forward and touched the dark tabby. Each time, he stiffened, his pelt spiking, but he did not give ground. He met each new touch, his eyes burning with hunger.
Finally, the last spirit-cat stepped away and the dark tabby lifted his muzzle. Moth Flight looked into his eyes, searching for some clue as to what the spirit-cats had shared with him, but she saw only pride.
Around him, the spirit-cats’ mouths moved. They seemed to be chanting something. Moth Flight pricked her ears, trying to make out the words, but she couldn’t. One StarClan tom broke off, his mouth frozen as he stared at the dark tabby.
Moth Flight swallowed as she saw dread darken the spirit-cat’s gaze.
She jolted awake, cold with fear.
“Moth Flight?” Micah jerked his head up as she stared, blinking, around Dappled Pelt’s den.
The sound of his mew soothed her and she turned and met his gaze.
“Bad dream?” he asked.
As she nodded, he leaned forward and touched his muzzle to her cheek. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured softly. “We’re safe here.”
Obediently, she rested her nose on her paws and closed her eyes. She felt his tongue lap her ear until weariness muddled her thoughts.
“It was only a dream.” Micah stopped and tucked his muzzle beside hers.
These aren’t dreams. They’re visions. As his breath deepened into gentle snores, worry pulled Moth Flight back from the brink of sleep. But what are they about? And why do they make me feel so uneasy?
Chapter 20
Early-morning light washed the reed beds. The rain that had drenched the camp for the past two days had finally lifted and sunshine was breaking through the clouds. On the other side of the clearing, River Ripple stretched outside his den. Moss Tail and Dawn Mist were stirring sleepily in their nest while Drizzle and Pine Needle charged across the camp, trying to catch each other’s tails.
Dappled Pelt blinked kindly at Moth Flight and Micah. “I’ve taught you all I know.”
Micah whisked his tail. “You know lots!”
“I can’t wait to use some of the stuff I’ve learned!” Moth
Flight’s pelt prickled with excitement. I hope I can find goatweed on the moor! It was one of the herbs Dappled Pelt had shown them. A few leaves, given daily, might lift Slate’s grief.
Her paws itched to go home, and yet the thought of leaving Micah made her heart ache.
Micah glanced around the RiverClan camp. “I’m going to miss it here,” he murmured. “I was getting used to the sound of the river lulling me to sleep.”
I was getting used to the sound of your breathing. Moth Flight glanced at him shyly. Her own nest would seem chilly without him.
Drizzle skidded to a halt between them. “Are you leaving?”
Pine Needle stared at Micah with round eyes. “You can’t go yet! I haven’t taught you how to fish.”
Micah nudged the kit’s cheek with his nose. “You need to learn how to swim first.”
Pine Needle stuck out his chin. “I swam a whole tail-length yesterday!”
Drizzle snorted. “With Dawn Mist holding your scruff!”
“At least I didn’t try to swallow half the river!”
“Hush.” Dappled Pelt silenced Pine Needle with a look.
“Micah and Moth Flight need to return to their Clans.”
“Why can’t they stay here with us?” Drizzle mewed.
“My Clan needs me,” Micah told her.
A twinge jabbed Moth Flight’s heart. I need you. She pushed the rabbit-brained thought away. “Mine too.”
Drizzle’s tail drooped. “Okay.”
“Will you come and visit again?” Pine Needle asked.
“Of course.” Moth Flight swished her tail. “When we have new skills to share.”
Dappled Pelt’s eyes shone. “I hope it won’t be long.” Her gaze flitted past them.
Moth Flight turned, following it. River Ripple was heading toward them. She dipped her head as he neared. “Thank you for letting us stay.”
“It was an honor.”
Micah nudged Moth Flight as the RiverClan leader blinked at her respectfully. “See what happens when you get chosen by StarClan?” he teased.
“I must get back to my herbs.” Dappled Pelt turned toward her den. “They won’t sort themselves.”
“Thanks!” Moth Flight called as she disappeared inside.
Micah gazed across the reed beds thoughtfully. “Do we have to go home right away?”
Moth Flight shot him a look. “Don’t you want to go back to SkyClan?”
“Eventually.” Micah leaned close to her ear. “But I like hanging out with you,” he whispered.
Moth Flight snatched her gaze away, her pelt growing hot. “I like hanging out with you too,” she mumbled.
River Ripple looked away, his whiskers twitching. Moth
Flight wondered if he’d heard.
“Perhaps Cloud Spots can teach you about woodland herbs,” River Ripple meowed vaguely as he stared toward the forest.
“ThunderClan camp isn’t far.”
Micah blinked at him. “That’s a good idea! It’ll be fun. And we can tell Cloud Spots what we’ve learned from Dappled Pelt.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.” River Ripple kept his gaze on the trees.
Moth Flight shifted her paws self-consciously. “Maybe.”
She felt guilty about staying away from the moor for so long.
And with Micah. “But what about WindClan? They might need me.”
River Ripple blinked at her. “You’ve got a whole lifetime to take care of your Clan. Have fun while you can.”
She glanced at Micah. If River Ripple thought visiting ThunderClan was okay, then it must be. “Let’s do it.”
Micah purred. “Great!”
River Ripple’s tail twitched. “Do you want me to show you the way?”
And miss walking alone with Micah? “No,” Moth Flight told him quickly.
“We’ll find it,” Micah assured him.
“I thought you’d say that.” A teasing glint flashed in River Ripple’s eyes. Moth Flight’s paws prickled with embarrassment.
He had guessed they wanted to be alone.
River Rippled turned his muzzle toward the forest. “The camp’s in a ravine,” he told them. “It’s hard to see from the top, so follow your noses.”