“It’s a little tom,” she mewed. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
Shy Fawn gazed down at her kit, all the fear gone from her eyes, swallowed up in overwhelming love. “He’s black, just like Dark Whiskers,” she murmured, bending her head to lick his fur.
Jayfeather gave her shoulder a prod with one paw. “Concentrate. There’s more to come.”
“Yes, I—oh!” Shy Fawn’s words ended in a yowl as the pain gripped her again.
Jayfeather massaged her belly, while Half Moon stroked her head. “Breathe deeply,” she encouraged her. “It’ll be over soon.”
As she spoke, a second kit slid out; Jayfeather trapped it gently between his forepaws and placed it beside its littermate. “Another tom,” he meowed. “And the next one’s right behind it.”
As Shy Fawn strained to bring her next kit into the world, Jayfeather heard jubilant yowls from outside the cave and turned his head to see the hunting patrol jostling through the entrance. Stone Song was carrying a vole, while Jagged Lightning was dragging an enormous snow-white hare.
“It worked!” Fish Leap bounded into the middle of the cavern. “A hawk swooped down on us, but it took one look at our claws and flew away again.”
“We should be able to work out a way to catch birds,” Dove’s Wing meowed. “An eagle would feed all of us for days!”
Then the hunting patrol fell silent as they realized what was going on. Stone Song dropped his vole and raced across the cavern to Shy Fawn. “Her kits are here!” he exclaimed. “Is she going to be okay?”
“She’ll be fine,” Jayfeather replied. Shy Fawn’s third kit—a little she-cat—had made her appearance. Looking down at the exhausted mother cat, he had his doubts about what he had just said, but he wasn’t going to voice them. Shy Fawn had been hungry and worn out by the journey before she ever got here, grieving for her mate, and life in the cavern still looked pretty bleak. But at least the hunting had been successful.
“Bring her something to eat,” he directed. “And when it’s ready, that hare’s pelt would be good to keep the kits warm.”
By now Shy Fawn’s three kits were beginning to squeak and wriggle. She guided them toward her teats, but Jayfeather fended them off with one forepaw while he ran the other over her belly.
“You’re not finished yet,” he told her. “There’s another kit in there.”
Shy Fawn made one last effort, letting out a high-pitched screech. The final kit slithered out and lay motionless on the cave floor.
“There!” Half Moon exclaimed. “Well done!”
Shy Fawn collapsed, exhausted, and Half Moon guided the kits into the curve of her belly. Each of them latched on to a teat, and their high-pitched complaints died away into silence as they began to suckle.
Jayfeather felt the fourth kit gently with one paw; it was another tom, this time with a golden tabby pelt, and though he was so small, he looked compact and strong. But he still didn’t move.
“Is he dead?” Half Moon whispered.
Jayfeather thought he could detect the feeble flutter of a heartbeat, but the kit didn’t seem to be breathing. “He’s not dead,” he replied. “And I’m not going to let him give up that easily!”
He pawed a little mucus out of the kit’s mouth, then began licking him vigorously, thrusting the fur the wrong way to warm the kit up and start his body working. Shy Fawn raised her head and watched anxiously. Suddenly the tiny kit convulsed between Jayfeather’s paws. He took a gulp of air and let out a loud yowl straight at Jayfeather, who stared at the familiar golden pelt and the set of the shoulders, and marveled at the strength in the tiny body.
“He has a roar like a lion,” some cat commented from behind Jayfeather.
“Then I’ll call him Lion’s Roar,” Shy Fawn murmured proudly.
No, Jayfeather thought. This is Lionblaze. Welcome, brother.
He gave the kit a lick between the ears and nudged him into the curve of Shy Fawn’s belly, where he began to suckle strongly next to his littermates. Jayfeather glanced over his shoulder to see Dove’s Wing among the cats who were crowding around. The gray she-cat’s eyes were wide with wonder as she watched Shy Fawn caring for her litter.
And there you are, as well, Jayfeather thought. How weird: She’s called Dovewing in our time, too. Glancing from Dove’s Wing to Lion’s Roar, he added to himself, The three of us are here now, even if the other two don’t realize it. The Power of Three has begun.
Suddenly he sensed a familiar presence at his shoulder.
“It is nearly time,” Rock whispered.
Jayfeather tensed, and for a heartbeat he considered ignoring the ancient cat’s warning. Then he sighed. He knew there was no use fighting destiny. Glancing around, he spotted Half Moon and made his way to her side. “Come on. Let’s go out for some air,” he murmured.
Half Moon nodded and followed him along the path and up the rocks beside the waterfall. To Jayfeather’s astonishment, he saw that the short leaf-bare day had ended and the moon was shining, a little brighter and plumper than the night before.
Standing at the edge of the cliff, her fur ruffled by the breeze, Half Moon looked up at the thin crescent. “It’s still there,” she whispered.
“Yes, and it will always be there,” Jayfeather responded. “Just as your descendants will be here. It’s up to you to make them stay, Half Moon, to persuade them that they can survive with their new ways of hunting. You must use all your skills with herbs to look after them.”
Half Moon’s green eyes were worried. “I don’t want to be a leader,” she protested.
“Then call yourself their Healer.”
The she-cat looked away as if she didn’t want Jayfeather to see the pain in her eyes. “You truly believe this, don’t you?”
Jayfeather stepped closer to her and touched the tip of her ear with his muzzle. “Yes, I do. This is all meant to be. However much I wish things could be different.”
Half Moon let out a long sigh. Closing her eyes, she leaned against Jayfeather. “You’re going to leave me again, aren’t you?”
Jayfeather nodded. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could stay.” He gave her ear a lick, but there was little comfort in it. “You will be a great Healer,” he went on. “Let the moon and the stars guide you. I promise everything will be okay.”
Half Moon looked up at him. “I believe you, because I trust you,” she whispered.
Jayfeather stepped back, the light of the slender moon spilling around them, turning Half Moon’s white fur to silver. As if there was a voice prompting him from inside his head, he knew what he had to say. “From this moment on, you will be known as the Teller of the Pointed Stones. Others will come after you, moon upon moon upon moon. Choose them well, train them well, and trust the future of your Tribe to them.”
“Tribe?” Half Moon echoed.
“Yes,” Jayfeather replied. “You are a Tribe now, united in loyalty to everything you represent. It won’t be easy, but the other cats will understand what needs to be done to keep you safe here forever.”
“I’ll miss you.” Half Moon’s voice was desolate.
“And I you. I won’t ever forget you, I promise.”
Jayfeather leaned toward her, and their noses touched. If only…Jayfeather thought.
Half Moon was the first to break away. Jayfeather watched as she jumped neatly down beside the waterfall, paused at the end of the path for one brief glance at him over her shoulder, then vanished into the cave.
“Good-bye, Stoneteller,” Jayfeather murmured. “May the Tribe of Endless Hunting light your path, always.”
Chapter 20
“Mouse dung! Which cat thought night training would be a good idea?” Thornclaw muttered, pulling away from a trailing bramble tendril and leaving a tuft of tabby fur behind. “I can’t see my own paws!”