Moth Flight's Vision

by Erin Hunter

  “Milkweed and Clover both have coughs,” Cloud Spots meowed.

  “Shattered Ice has been croaking like a frog these past days,” Dappled Pelt’s mew echoed around the tunnels walls.

  Moth Flight brushed against Micah, frowning. Perhaps newleaf always brought coughs. “Is Tiny Branch still okay?”

  “He was spluttering a bit this morning,” Micah confessed. “I told Acorn Fur to keep an eye on him.”

  Moth Flight could hear anxiety in his mew. “He’ll be okay if you give him catmint, won’t he?”

  Micah’s paws scuffed the rock. “There was a tom on the farm with a cough,” he meowed darkly. “We called it redcough because, at the end, he coughed up blood.”

  At the end? Moth Flight shivered. The darkness suddenly seemed to press against her pelt as she padded on.

  “I’ve never seen a Clan cat cough blood,” Dappled Spots murmured darkly.

  Alarm pricked in Moth Flight’s paws. “Didn’t catmint help?” she asked Micah. “You said there was some behind the barn.”

  “Cow tried giving him catmint, but it didn’t work,” Micah explained.

  “I know something more powerful than catmint.” Cloud Spots’s mew sounded at Moth Flight’s tail. She felt his breath stir her fur. “There’s a tree on SkyClan’s land. It oozes sap from cracks in the bark. The sap can cure any cough.”

  Moth Flight glanced over her shoulder hopefully. “Even redcough?”

  “I’ve never tested it,” Cloud Spots admitted.

  Fresh air began to wash Moth Flight’s muzzle. A few more paw steps, and starlight showed through the darkness. Crisp air sent a surge of energy through her fur. She hurried onto the ledge and gazed over the valley. Moonlight drenched the distant moor. “We’ll be home by dawn.” She leaped down, sending stones cracking down the slope, and headed for the meadow.

  Paws heavy with weariness, Moth Flight ducked through the gap in the camp wall. Beyond it, the sky showed orange over the forest as dawn pushed the night away. She could hear the gentle snoring of her Clanmates, and make out their pelts, just shadows in the grass as they slept curled in their nests. How good it would feel to slip into her den and snuggle deep into her own nest.

  She heard the sound of fur brushing the rocks as she passed them. She turned, blinking, through the half-light. “Who is it?”

  Wind Runner’s scent bathed her nose as her mother slid from the rocks.

  “You’re back.” The WindClan leader stretched sleepily and touched her nose to Moth Flight’s cheek.

  “Did you wait up for me?” Warmth glowed in Moth Flight’s chest.

  “I slept a little,” Wind Runner admitted. “But I wanted to make sure you got back safely. It’s a long journey to Highstones.”

  “I had Micah with me,” Moth Flight reassured her.

  “I know.” Wind Runner wrinkled her nose distastefully. “I can smell his scent on you.”

  Moth Flight felt suddenly self-conscious. “Cloud Spots, Dappled Pelt, and Pebble Heart were there too,” she pointed out.

  Wind Runner’s gaze slid away. “Did you speak with the spirit-cats?”

  “Yes!” Moth Flight lifted her tail excitedly. “StarClan told us we must share the knowledge we have with each other.”

  “StarClan?” Wind Runner jerked her gaze back.

  “That’s what the spirit-cats are called now. They even have their own hunting grounds.”

  Wind Runner’s eyes widened but she didn’t comment. Instead she tipped her head. “Who has to share knowledge?”

  “The medicine cats.” Moth Flight squared her shoulders. She might as well tell Wind Runner about Micah’s plan now. “I’m meeting Micah at the border tomorrow. We’re going to visit RiverClan and learn everything Dappled Pelt knows about healing. All the medicine cats are going to visit each other’s camps. It’s what StarClan wants.”

  Wind Runner narrowed her eyes. “Clear Sky won’t let Micah visit other Clans. No matter what StarClan wants.”

  “Why not?” Moth Flight met her mother’s gaze. “He’s angry with WindClan, but that has nothing to do with Micah.”

  “Clear Sky doesn’t like to be told what to do.”

  “Micah will convince him it’s for the good of his Clan,” Moth Flight insisted. “Micah can be very persuasive.”

  Wind Runner’s ear twitched uneasily. “I don’t doubt it.”

  “I’m tired.” Moth Flight ignored the suspicious glint in her mother’s gaze and headed across the clearing. “I’m going to my nest.”

  “There’s a mouse for you on the prey pile,” her mother called after her softly.

  “Thanks.” Moth Flight blinked gratefully over her shoulder. “But I’m too tired to eat.”

  “Sleep well, then.” Wind Runner dipped her head. “I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”

  Moth Flight slipped quietly into her den. Rocky was purring in his sleep, his whiskers twitching as he dreamed. She climbed into her nest, surprised to find fresh heather lining it. Relishing the sweet scent, she curled down and rested her chin on the edge. Through the den entrance, she could see sunlight drenching the camp wall as the night sky paled into dawn. She wondered whether StarClan watched them during the day. Or do they fade with the stars? She pictured the sloping meadows and distant forest of StarClan’s hunting grounds; joy warmed her pelt as she thought of Gray Wing and Turtle Tail walking side by side once more. She purred. Tomorrow she’d be traveling with Micah to RiverClan. Was he looking forward to their journey as much as she was?

  CHAPTER 18

  As sunhigh neared, Moth Flight pulled a mouse from the prey pile. She wasn’t very hungry, but she didn’t want her belly rumbling when she met Micah. And who knew what they’d be offered to eat in the RiverClan camp? She shuddered, remembering the toad she’d caught, and hoped there’d be more to eat among the reed beds than river prey.

  She padded past Swift Minnow, who was washing in the long grass beside Reed Tail. Jagged Peak and Holly were repairing gaps in their den wall by threading heather—which Eagle Feather and Dew Nose had fetched from the moor—tightly between the stems. Gorse Fur and Wind Runner sat at the edge of the sandy hollow, their heads bent close as they talked. Slate sat beside Fern Leaf and Willow Tail, blinking in the sunshine while Black Ear, White Tail, and Silver Stripe climbed the gorse wall behind her.

  Warm prey scent bathed Moth Flight’s nose as she carried the mouse into the shade of the camp wall where Dust Muzzle and Spotted Fur were lounging in the thick grass, a half-eaten rabbit lying between them. As she dropped her mouse beside them and bent to take a bite, she noticed Spotted Fur’s tail twitching crossly from the corner of her eye. She ripped a lump of flesh from the mouse and looked at him. “What’s up?” she asked, her mouth full.

  He frowned. “Dust Muzzle says you’re going to visit RiverClan with Micah.”

  Moth Flight swallowed. “StarClan wants the medicine cats to learn from each other.”

  “Can’t you visit RiverClan by yourself?” Spotted Fur asked.

  “Micah needs to learn too.” Moth Flight cocked her head as she chewed. Why was he being so crabby?

  “Why can’t you travel with Pebble Heart or Cloud Spots?” Spotted Fur asked accusingly.

  Dust Muzzle hooked the rabbit closer with a claw. “Moth Flight can travel with whomever she likes,” he meowed absently.

  Spotted Fur got to his paws and shook out his pelt. “I don’t know if spending time with other Clans is a good idea,” he meowed loudly.

  Holly glanced over her shoulder, a sprig of heather in her paws.

  Moth Flight stiffened. The golden tom was attracting attention from their Clanmates.

  Fern Leaf jerked her muzzle around. “So it’s true! You’re really going to visit RiverClan?”

  “Yes.” Moth Flight shifted her paws uneasily.

  Wind Runner looked up, eyes narrowing.

  “Is that a good idea?” Holly dropped the sprig of heather and headed across the clearing. “Rocky’s still
sick.”

  “Reed Tail’s promised to watch him,” Moth Flight defended herself.

  Swift Minnow flashed her mate a look. “You didn’t tell me!”

  “He’s not that sick.” Reed Tail pushed himself to his paws. “He’s just enjoying his cozy nest in Moth Flight’s den.”

  Slate’s eyes rounded with worry. “What if one of my kits gets ill?”

  Silver Stripe called down from the gorse wall. “We never get sick!”

  “But what if you do?” Slate fretted.

  “Reed Tail will know what to do,” Moth Flight promised the queen. He probably knows more than than I do. “Besides, I’m only going to RiverClan. Someone can come and fetch me if you need me.”

  Willow Tail’s ears twitched. “It’s just asking for trouble, crossing another Clan’s borders.”

  “Dappled Pelt invited me!” Impatience tightened Moth Flight’s belly. Willow Tail was only trying to make a point because of Red Claw. She felt a surge of anger toward the pale tabby she-cat; with all this talk of borders, she was getting as bad as Clear Sky! “Besides, I’m a medicine cat. I’m going there to learn, not to hunt!”

  Wind Runner padded to the center of the clearing. “StarClan has told the medicine cats to learn from each other.” Her gaze swept the Clan.

  Moth Flight felt a ripple of relief. Wind Runner wasn’t going to stand in her way.

  Gorse Fur nodded solemnly. “What Moth Flight learns from the other medicine cats will help us.”

  Jagged Peak stepped out from the shadow of his den, heather sticking out of his pelt. “Mixing with other Clans is dangerous,” he growled.

  Moth Flight bristled. “Why? You’ve lived with the forest cats and on the moor and in the pine marsh with Tall Shadow!”

  “Which means I’ve learned how important it is to remain in one place.” Jagged Peak met her gaze. “Your loyalty should be with us.”

  “It is with you!” Moth Flight snapped. “Visiting the RiverClan camp won’t change that.”

  “But you’re going because StarClan ordered you to, not Wind Runner,” Holly chipped in. “Are you a WindClan cat or a StarClan cat?”

  Moth Flight stared in dismay at her Clanmates. How could any cat doubt her loyalty? Her mother was the Clan leader!

  Wind Runner lashed her tail. “Stop all this mouse-brained chatter!” she growled. “I realize that we are not used to having a medicine cat among us. And it feels strange to take orders from spirit-cats. But Moth Flight only has the good of the Clan in her heart. She is going to learn so that she can take care of us better.” She fixed her gaze on Slate. “If one of your kits falls ill, wouldn’t you want Moth Flight to know as much as she can about healing?” She turned to Jagged Peak, her gaze hardening. “Never suggest that Moth Flight’s loyalties are divided! She was born a WindClan cat and, whatever happens, her heart will belong with her Clanmates.”

  Moth Flight felt a surge of gratitude toward her mother. But Spotted Fur’s accusing gaze still burned her pelt. She stared at her paws. He’s jealous of Micah. Guilt wormed in her belly. Was it disloyal of her to like the SkyClan medicine cat so much?

  She left her mouse and padded across the clearing. “I promised I’d meet Micah at sunhigh.” She avoided her Clanmates’ stares. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but if there’s an emergency, send for me.”

  Ignoring the hushed murmurs behind her, she slid out of camp, relieved to feel the cool wind in her fur.

  Moth Flight headed for the RiverClan border. As she climbed down the steep path that led to the river, she saw Micah, seated on a stepping-stone. He was silhouetted, still and strong, against the flashing water. He looked up as she neared and she narrowed her eyes against the glare of the sparkling ripples.

  Behind him, the river split, cutting through the reed beds to create an island in the middle. She knew from listening to her Clanmates talk that RiverClan made their camp there and she wondered what it would feel like to be entirely surrounded by water.

  “It’s so peaceful here!” Micah’s purr rumbled over the chattering stream.

  Moth Flight jumped gingerly onto the first stepping-stone, watching the water as it swirled around her. She flinched as a ripple broke over the edge of the stone and splashed her forepaw.

  Micah purred louder. “You might have to get used to getting your paws wet in RiverClan.”

  “I hope not.” She shook the water off.

  It felt good to be away from camp. The newleaf sun warmed her pelt. The river was sheltered from the wind by the forest on one side and the cliffs on the other. Pungent scents filled her nose and the birds chattered over the babbling of the river. She blinked happily at Micah. Alone here, with him, she didn’t need to impress Wind Runner, or know how to treat Black Ear’s bellyache or Storm Pelt’s itchy ears.

  She crossed the stepping-stones until she reached Micah, then lifted her face to the sun and half closed her eyes. The wind whisked the reed beds on the far shore, stirring the rushes until they rippled like water.

  Downstream, a black she-cat padded onto the shore. An orange she-cat passed her, wading into the shallows until the water streamed through her belly fur. She dipped her head, then plunged beneath the surface.

  Moth Flight froze. “She sank!”

  Micah leaned forward, ears pricked. “Wait.” He watched the water until suddenly, with a splash, the RiverClan she-cat broke the surface a few tail-lengths away, a fish clamped between her jaws. She swam back to shore, then hauled herself out and disappeared among the reeds. Her Clanmate gave a mrrow of approval, then followed.

  Moth Flight shivered. “I hope Dappled Pelt doesn’t try to teach us to do that!”

  Micah purred. “If she does, you can threaten to teach her how to hunt in your tunnels.”

  “I hate tunnel-hunting,” Moth Flight confessed. “It’s Dust Muzzle’s specialty, not mine.”

  “You’re a medicine cat,” Micah reminded her. “You have your own special skills.”

  “I wish.”

  “That’s why we came here.” Micah jumped onto the next stone and crossed to the far shore. He glanced back at Moth Flight. “We’ll know plenty by the time we leave. But we’d better hurry up. Those cats probably told Dappled Pelt we’re on our way.”

  Ruefully, Moth Flight followed. She wished she could spend all afternoon watching the river with Micah. But he was right. Dappled Pelt would be expecting them. She landed on the sandy shore and followed Micah along a trail that wove among the reeds. The earth was muddy and squelched between her claws. As the trail widened, she caught up with Micah. “What did Clear Sky say when you told him you were visiting RiverClan?”

  “He wasn’t happy.” Micah kept his gaze fixed ahead.

  “Did he try and stop you?” Moth Flight scanned Micah’s pelt for scratches.

  “He wanted to know why,” Micah told her. “It took a while to convince him that it was for the good of SkyClan but, in the end, he agreed.”

  “Wind Runner thought you’d never convince him.” Moth Flight felt a glimmer of satisfaction that Micah had proved her mother wrong.

  “I think Clear Sky likes cats who stand up to him,” Micah told her. “And it helped that Star Flower was there. Since I helped Tiny Branch, she wants me to learn as much as I can—in case Dew Petal or Flower Foot gets sick.”

  “How’s Tiny Branch’s cough?”

  “It seems to get better one day and worse the next,” Micah murmured thoughtfully. “I wonder if there’s something in the forest that aggravates it.”

  “Silver Stripe always sneezes when she’s been playing near heather flowers,” Moth Flight commented. “Maybe you could follow Tiny Branch for a day and see where he plays.”

  “I wish I had time for that,” Micah meowed. “Clear Sky keeps me busy treating flea bites and gathering herbs.”

  “But you have Acorn Fur to help you.” Moth Flight ignored the jealousy pricking beneath her fur. “Couldn’t she take your duties for a day?”

  “Clear Sky ins
ists she never leave my side when we’re on SkyClan territory.”

  Moth Flight blinked. “Never?”

  Before Micah could answer, the reeds ahead shivered and a black she-cat slid out and blocked the path—the same one they’d seen on the shore downstream. She eyed Micah and Moth Flight suspiciously. “What are you two doing here?”

  “Hi!” Micah greeted her cheerfully. “Didn’t Dappled Pelt warn you? She invited us to come and learn what she knows about healing.”

  “Night!” A mew sounded farther along the trail. Dawn Mist appeared from among the rushes. Her orange-and-white pelt was wet, slicked against her slender frame. “Dappled Pelt said that if it’s Micah and Moth Flight, you’re to escort them to her den.”

  Night narrowed her eyes. “I still think it’s a bad idea to let other Clan cats into our camp.”

  “River Ripple says it’s okay,” Dawn Mist argued. “And they’re only medicine cats. What’s the worst they can do? Cure you?”

  Night snorted and turned her tail on them. “Follow me,” she huffed.

  Moth Flight padded beside Micah, following the she-cat along the winding path.

  Dawn Mist fell in beside her Clanmate and glanced over her shoulder. “I wish I could visit the other Clans,” she mewed. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to live on the moor or in the forest.”

  Moth Flight’s paws slithered on the muddy earth. “It’s dry,” she muttered.

  As Dawn Mist purred with amusement, the reeds opened up and Moth Flight saw a clearing ahead. Fish scent washed her muzzle as two kits bounded across the sandy soil and bundled into Dawn Mist.

  “Dawn Mist!” The gray-and-white she-kit bounced around the orange queen. “Pine Needle ate more of the trout than me! It’s not fair.”

  The black tom-kit dug his paws into the earth. “I did not! She’s just being greedy!”

  “Poor Drizzle.” Dawn Mist licked the gray she-kit’s head. “I’ll catch another fish soon,” she promised.

  “Can we have one each?” Pine Needle asked.

  Drizzle blinked eagerly. “I want the biggest one!”

  “You two are greedier than foxes,” Dawn Mist purred. She nosed the kits away. “Go and play. I’m helping Night show our guests to Dappled Pelt’s den.”