As Squirrelflight leaned closer, curiosity prickling in her pelt, Cherryfall pricked her ears uneasily. “Will StarClan approve?”
Leafpool looked at her. “Why shouldn’t they? The Sisters are honoring the dead.” She turned her gaze back to Moonlight as the gray she-cat began to claw away a small patch of grass. Then she dug a small hole and dropped the flowers into it. Covering them up, she glanced at her campmates. They formed a circle around the hole, closed their eyes, and lifted their muzzles.
Squirrelflight held her breath as, silently, the Sisters held their faces to the sky. Then Moonlight murmured, “Safe journey, kit.” Furze, Tempest, Snow, and Flurry echoed her mew. “Safe journey, kit.” Together they repeated the words, chanting them softly, then raising their voices until their mews became wails and their wails broke into a fierce yowling. Their cry rang around the small valley, splitting the air.
Squirrelflight stared, her heart pounding. What in StarClan are they doing?
Blossomfall moved closer to Cherryfall. “What a lot of nonsense,” she growled.
“Hush!” Leafpool flicked her tail impatiently at the tortoiseshell warrior. Her gaze was fixed on the Sisters as they fell suddenly silent. They stood unmoving for a few moments, then broke sharply from their circle, as though waking from a dream.
Squirrelflight searched Moonlight’s gaze. The Sisters had claimed to see the dead. Had they seen Sparkpelt’s kit?
Moonlight blinked softly. “We have encouraged your daughter’s kit to walk with ThunderClan, both the living and the dead. His spirit can be nurtured and loved there.”
“You saw him?”
Tempest nodded. “He had orange-and-black fur.”
Squirrelflight felt a chill ripple through her pelt. She hadn’t described the dead kit. Moonlight really must have seen him.
Snow frowned, looking puzzled. “A black tom was with him.” She blinked at Squirrelflight. “Do you know who that was?”
“Larksong.” Blossomfall shifted uneasily beside Squirrelflight.
“The kit’s father,” Squirrelflight told Moonlight. “He died at the same time.”
Moonlight nodded. “I thought they were kin. He seemed very protective of the young spirit in his care.”
Leafpool’s pelt prickled. “Why did you yowl? Is it part of the ceremony?”
“It wards off dark spirits that might wish to harm the dead,” Moonlight told her. “It’s our warning that those we remember are protected for as long as we remember them.”
“Thank you.” Squirrelflight dipped her head gratefully to the Sisters. As she did, she made a silent promise to Larksong. We will remember you both. How strange the Sisters ceremony had seemed, but was it so different from a vigil? These cats honored the dead by remembering them, just as the Clans did. Was it possible that, in their own way, the Sisters had a link with StarClan?
CHAPTER 19
Squirrelflight sat back on her haunches and watched as Leafpool dropped into a hunting crouch. A sparrow was rummaging through fallen leaves a few tail-lengths ahead, sunshine dappling its feathers. Leafpool’s tail flicked excitedly.
Quick! Squirrelflight held her tongue. Would her sister know not to wait too long? She was a medicine cat, not a warrior. One breath of wind and the sparrow might take fright and flutter into the branches overhead.
Squirrelflight was still surprised that Leafpool had asked to join the hunting patrol. “I need to stretch my legs,” Leafpool had told her, hurrying after them as Squirrelflight had headed out of camp with Twigbranch, Finleap, and Honeyfur. “I’ve been crouching in the medicine den sorting herbs for too long.”
“I would think you’d rather go gathering herbs.” Squirrelflight blinked at her.
Leafpool had flicked her tail. “I want warm fresh-kill,” she insisted. “It’s always cold by the time it reaches the pile.”
Finleap whisked his tail happily. “We’ll catch more prey with another pair of paws.”
“I didn’t know medicine cats hunted,” Twigbranch mewed.
“Of course we hunt,” Leafpool had snorted. “When we get time.” She slid past the patrol and headed out of camp.
Twigbranch, Finleap, and Honeyfur had stopped nearby to investigate a mouse nest dug deep into the roots of an oak while Leafpool had led Squirrelflight to this dip in the forest floor. It was shady and alive with bugs. “Always hunt where prey looks for prey,” Leafpool had mewed.
Squirrelflight had recognized the old hunting rule at once. “That’s what Dustpelt used to tell me.”
“I know.” Leafpool purred fondly. “You used to come back to the apprentices’ den after training and tell me everything you’d learned.”
Squirrelflight tried to remember. It seemed such a long time ago. “Did you tell me all about herbs?”
“Of course.” Leafpool’s whiskers twitched. “But you usually fell asleep halfway through.”
Squirrelflight felt a rush of guilt. “Did I?”
Leafpool purred again. “It’s okay. I know how hard Dustpelt made you work.” As she spoke, a sparrow flitted down from a tree. Leafpool lowered her voice. “I’m just glad you showed me some of the skills you learned.”
Quick! Leafpool was still staring at the sparrow, her eyes slitted now. Before it flies away. Squirrelflight held her breath as Leafpool finally leaped. She was impressed by her sister’s speed as Leafpool caught the sparrow before it could flutter up into the branches, then killed it with a bite.
“Well done!” Squirrelflight got to her paws, her mouth watering at the juicy tang of blood. She padded to Leafpool’s side and sniffed her sister’s catch.
Leafpool sat back purring. “Should we eat it now?”
Squirrelflight scanned the clearing, listening for Twigbranch, Finleap, and Honeyfur. “We’d have to do it quickly before the others catch up with us.” Wind rustled the branches overhead, and birds chattered in the sunshine. “Dustpelt would have put me on tick duty for a moon if he’d caught me eating prey before it reached the fresh-kill pile.”
“I’m a medicine cat,” Leafpool purred. “I don’t have to follow every warrior rule. And it’s my catch.”
Squirrelflight shot her a look. Her sister was tempting her. “Okay,” she purred, feeling suddenly as playful as a kit. “But I’m a warrior, so I’ll have to catch something for the Clan before we go back.”
“If that’s what it takes.” Leafpool tore the sparrow in two and pushed one half toward Squirrelflight.
Squirrelflight hooked it and took a mouthful. She closed her eyes, the warm blood delighting her. The flesh was soft and sweet. She swallowed it happily.
“Have you visited Sparkpelt today?” Leafpool asked.
Squirrelflight paused, forgetting suddenly the sweetness of the sparrow. “I saw her this morning.”
“I’m glad.” Leafpool was chewing. “She needs company. Daisy is with her, and a few other cats have visited. Stormcloud stopped by this morning. But she needs to feel part of the Clan as much as possible.”
Squirrelflight’s belly tightened as she remembered Sparkpelt lying in her nest, staring blankly as her kits played with Daisy. “She doesn’t seem to be getting better.”
“It’ll take a while for her to get over Larksong’s death.” Leafpool swiped her tongue around her lips.
“But she’s missing out on motherhood,” Squirrelflight fretted.
“There’s no rush.” Leafpool took another mouthful. “Flamekit and Finchkit will be kits for a while yet. And she’s tough.” Leafpool crunched through a bone. “Like her mother.”
Squirrelflight picked at the sparrow distractedly. Am I tough? She didn’t feel it right now.