Moth Flight's Vision

by Erin Hunter

  “Dappled Pelt brought two leaf wraps,” he told her.

  “Fetch what you’ve got,” Moth Flight ordered. “We need to ease her pain.”

  “I’ll bring thyme as well. It’ll calm her.”

  “Good idea.” Moth Flight met his gaze, relieved they were facing this together.

  As Pebble Heart disappeared again, Juniper Branch began to moan. “Here comes another one.”

  Moth Flight grabbed the fresh twig and slipped it between Juniper Branch’s jaws. “Remember. Focus on your breathing. The pain will pass before you know it.”

  She rested her paws gently on Juniper Branch’s belly as the queen stiffened with the effort of not pushing. No! The small movements inside were weakening. Hang on, kits. It won’t be long now. She hoped she was right.

  Spasm after spasm gripped the queen. Moth Flight soothed her as she fought each one. Pebble Heart returned with poppy seeds and thyme. Juniper Branch swallowed both and, when Raven Pelt brought water-soaked moss, she lapped at it thirstily.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Raven Pelt gazed fearfully at his mate.

  Pebble Heart nosed him toward the den entrance. “We’ll do the best we can,” he promised.

  As the black tom let himself be guided out, Mud Paws stuck his head inside and dropped a bundle of pine twigs.

  “Thank you!” Moth Flight nodded gratefully to the tom and quickly thrust one of the twigs between Juniper Branch’s jaws. Another spasm was coming. She pressed her paws low on the queen’s belly. The kits were hardly moving inside. But there was no heat pulsing from her fur. Had the swelling gone down? She caught Pebble Heart’s eyes as he came back in. “Feel this.”

  She moved away and let him place his paws where hers had been. “Less swelling, right?”

  He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing with alarm. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “But I can hardly feel the kits moving.”

  “I know.” Moth Flight leaned close to his ear. “She needs to start pushing now or we’ll lose them.”

  “But what if it’s too soon?”

  “It’ll be too late if we leave it longer.”

  Pebble Heart gazed at her darkly. “I agree.” He pulled his paws away and ducked down beside Juniper Branch’s head. “When you get the next spasm, we want you to push.”

  “Really?” Relief sparked in Juniper Branch’s gaze. She gasped, her body stiffening.

  Moth Flight swapped looks with Pebble Heart. StarClan help us.

  As a fresh spasm swept Juniper Branch, the queen moaned with effort and pushed. Moth Flight placed her paws on the queen’s belly and felt her bear down.

  Pebble Heart crouched at the queen’s tail. “I see something coming!” Excitement edged his mew.

  “Keep pushing!” Moth Flight urged.

  Juniper Branch’s moan turned to a growl as she gritted her teeth with effort.

  Pebble Heart gasped. “It’s here!”

  Moth Flight darted to his side and stared at the tiny shape beside the queen’s tail. A membrane covered it and Moth Flight instinctively reached out and sliced it open with a claw. Fluid spilled out as the wet kit struggled free, mewling as it gulped its first breath.

  Juniper Branch lifted her head, straining to see. Moth Flight grabbed the kit by its scruff and placed it beside her muzzle. As she reached to lick it, her eyes shining with joy, another spasm seized her.

  “Push!” Moth Flight told her sharply. She rested her paws on Juniper Branch’s belly once more, feeling it convulse.

  “Another one!” Pebble Heart’s mew was jubilant. Moth Flight rushed to see. He’d split open the membrane by the time she reached it. A purr throbbed in her throat as the kit wriggled and mewled. Lifting it gently, she placed it beside the first.

  “How many more?” Juniper Branch asked.

  Moth Flight ran her paw over the queen’s belly, feeling movement inside. “Another one at least.” As she spoke, Juniper Branch jerked with pain. She shuddered, panting as she pushed.

  “It’s coming,” Pebble Heart urged.

  Juniper Branch pushed again, yowling. The kits squealed and wriggled blindly beside her cheek.

  “I think it’s the last one.” Moth Flight glanced at Pebble Heart as Juniper Branch fell limp. The movement inside her belly had stopped. “We did it!”

  The ShadowClan medicine cat was staring down, his eyes dark.

  “What’s wrong?” Moth Flight darted to his side.

  “It was a she-kit,” he mewed softly.

  The kit lay on her split membrane, motionless.

  Moth Flight’s heart lurched as she stared at the limp body. She thought of Emberkit, who’d died moments after he’d been born. StarClan, help it! She reached out a paw and touched the lifeless kit’s pelt. She was smaller than her littermates, her pale gray fur slick beneath Moth Flight’s pad. She leaned down and sniffed her tiny muzzle. “She’s not breathing,” she whispered. “Like Drizzle!”

  Pebble Heart blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

  Moth Flight touched a paw to the tiny kit’s ribs. “She might have water inside her chest!”

  Pebble Heart looked confused. “Do you know how to help her?”

  Moth Flight rolled the kit onto her back and placed her paws on her chest. “I think so. But she’s so small!” The kit felt as fragile as a sparrow. How hard dare she push?

  She began to pump, gently at first, and then, as she felt the easy resilience of the kit beneath her paws, harder.

  “What’s happening?” Juniper Branch was reaching her muzzle around to see, her eyes wide.

  “Take care of the other two,” Pebble Heart told her. “We’ll take care of this one.”

  “Is it dead?” The queen’s mew was thick with fear.

  “We don’t know.” Pebble Heart moved, blocking the queen’s view as Moth Flight kept working on the kit.

  “What are you doing to it?” Alarm edged Juniper Branch’s mew. She tried to struggle to her paws, but fell back, weak with exhaustion.

  Raven Pelt darted into the den. “What’s going on?”

  Moth Flight didn’t look at the black tom, but kept pumping the kit’s chest. Am I doing the right thing? Was Half Moon watching? Breathe! Please breathe! Fear sparked beneath her pelt.

  Raven Pelt shouldered his way past Pebble Heart. “What are you doing?” He stared at Moth Flight, his eyes round with horror.

  As he spoke, the kit jerked and water bubbled at her lips. Moth Flight flipped her over quickly and began to massage her back as the kit spewed up liquid. Then it mewled a loud, desperate mewl.

  Moth Flight sat back on her haunches, joy lighting her like sunshine. Trembling, she met Pebble Heart’s gaze.

  “You saved her.” Pebble Heart’s eyes shone.

  The kit flailed its paws and mewled again.

  “I think she wants her mother.” Moth Flight backed away and let Raven Pelt scoop the kit up by her scruff.

  He placed it beside the others and gazed proudly at Juniper Branch. “They’re beautiful.”

  Moth Flight suddenly realized how weary she was. Juniper Branch must be exhausted. “We should get her into her nest,” she murmured to Pebble Heart.

  “I’ll see to that,” Pebble Heart told her. “You look worn out.”

  Moth Flight blinked at him gratefully. “I am.” Her gaze drifted to Juniper Branch and Raven Pelt. They were gazing at their kits, and then each other, with eyes warm with love. Moth Flight’s heart twisted, grief stabbing her so suddenly it took her breath away. She and Micah would never share such joy. Weak with sorrow, she heaved herself onto her paws and padded out of the den.

  Behind her, the kits mewled while Raven Pelt and Juniper Branch purred. The happiness Moth Flight had felt as the kit had come to life beneath her paws disappeared like mist in the wind. Oh, Micah. I miss you so much. Loss hollowed her heart once more. She longed to stop grieving, but how could she? She could never have the life she’d planned with Micah—only emptiness and long days alone. She felt as though all her
dreams had died with him.

  CHAPTER 25

  Moth Flight scanned the nettle patch. She loved this part of the pine forest. Gaps in the canopy let narrow strips of sunshine reach the mossy forest floor and nettles thrived in the rare light. Pebble Heart was waiting for her between the ditches that rutted the ground beyond the rise. She’d been with ShadowClan for nearly a moon now and lately had begun helping him gather herbs for his store. She was used to the gloom, although the tang of pinesap had begun to make her queasy.

  But she wasn’t ready to go home.

  She stretched her muzzle forward and nipped through the base of a fat-looking nettle stem. Then she dragged it over the rise, careful to stay clear of the shivering leaves.

  “I think we have enough.” Pebble Heart stepped out of the way as she neared the ditch, leaving room for her to drop it over the edge.

  It landed on top of the others and began to wilt slowly into the muddy water.

  “Are the ones we soaked yesterday finished?” she asked.

  Pebble Heart leaped the next ditch and reached his paw into the next. “Yes,” he called over his shoulder. “No sting left.”

  Moth Flight shook out her fur. “I wonder if drying the nettles would get rid of the sting?”

  “Drying herbs is easy on the moor,” Pebble Heart hauled up a dripping stem and laid it on the ground. “There’s plenty of wind and sunshine up there. It’s too damp to dry herbs here.”

  “How are you going to get through leafbare without a store of dried herbs?”

  “Dappled Pelt asked me the same question last night.” Pebble Heart glanced at her as he hooked another stem from the ditch.

  Moth Flight felt a flash of guilt. She’d missed the half-moon gathering at the Moonstone. “What did you tell her?”

  “I asked if she could dry some herbs for ShadowClan.” She realized that he was looking at her hopefully. “Would you dry some too? When you return to the moor?” There was a question in his eyes.

  Do you want me to leave?

  Pebble Heart must have seen worry darken her gaze. “I mean, when you’re ready.”

  Will I ever be ready? The ShadowClan cats asked nothing of her. They brought her prey and dipped their heads respectfully, and talked about everyday things, like how the prey was running, or how soon greenleaf was coming this year. Being among them was easy.

  Her own Clanmates would be more inquisitive. They’d ask about Micah. And they’d expect her to return to her medicine cat duties. Moth Flight’s belly tightened. She wasn’t ready to look after anyone yet.

  When she didn’t answer, Pebble Heart glanced down at the nettle stems. “We missed you at the Moonstone last night.”

  “I wanted to come with you.” She had. She knew deep in her belly that being a medicine cat was her destiny. And helping the ShadowClan medicine cat was renewing her confidence. She had a sense of purpose once more, and satisfaction in her work had distracted her from her grief. Since Juniper Branch had kitted, she’d kept a close eye on the kits. She’d taken Pebble Heart to the edge of the oak forest to gather borage to make sure that Juniper Branch had enough milk for them. But she’d felt so weary in the past moon; she crept, exhausted, to her nest every night. The thought of the long trek to Highstones had been daunting. And, if she was being honest with herself, perhaps she wasn’t ready to see Micah among the StarClan cats. That means he’s really gone. “I was tired.”

  “I understand.” Pebble Heart’s gaze flickered over her belly. Had he noticed that her days of resting—eating prey, which other cats had caught—had begun to show in her swollen flanks? Perhaps it was time she pulled herself together and went back to her Clan. Her grief had lost the raw power that had silenced her for days at a time, but she still woke trembling in the night, her longing for Micah so strong that her heart roared in her ears.

  “I’m not going to stop being a medicine cat,” she reassured him.

  “I didn’t think you would.” He began to straighten the nettle stems.

  “The other medicine cats know that, don’t they?”

  “Of course.” He plucked a stringy old grass stem from the edge of the ditch and threaded it under the bundle he’d made. “They told me to tell you not to worry about missing the meeting. They understood.”

  “Did StarClan visit with you?” Moth Flight had been avoiding the question since Pebble Heart returned at dawn. Had Micah been there? She didn’t want to know. If he had, having missed him would break her heart all over again. If he hadn’t, she’d worry that he would never be part of their ranks. But she had to know if StarClan had a message for her.

  “Half Moon came alone,” Pebble Heart told her. “She only stayed long enough to tell us to look after you.”

  Moth Flight blinked at him. Hadn’t she said anything about Micah? “Was that all?”

  “Yes.” Pebble Heart wrapped the grass stem around the bundle. “Acorn Fur was disappointed. She’d been expecting to see her ancestors.”

  Moth Flight stiffened, irritation prickling beneath her pelt. “Acorn Fur was there?”

  Pebble Heart threaded the grass around the stems again, pulling them tightly together. “She’s SkyClan’s medicine cat now.”

  “She’s a spy!” Moth Flight snapped. “Clear Sky told her to watch Micah because he didn’t trust him.”

  “That might be true.” Pebble Heart looked up. “But Micah taught her a lot. She knows more about healing than any other SkyClan cat. And she likes it. Besides—” He paused, avoiding her gaze. “I’ve had dreams about her healing her Clanmates.”

  “You knew she’d become their medicine cat?” Outrage flared in Moth Flight’s belly. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  “I never knew,” Pebble Heart corrected her. “I have lots of dreams. They don’t all turn out to be visions.” He met her gaze steadily. “Seeing Acorn Fur giving herbs to sick cats isn’t the same as knowing Micah would die. Even if I’d guessed he would die, would you really have wanted to know?”

  “I could have—”

  He cut her off. “What? Changed his destiny? Loved him more?”

  Moth Flight stared at him, wordless. If she had known, would she have done anything differently? Her time with Micah had been wonderful. Would she really have wanted the shadow of his death looming over those perfect days?

  Pebble Heart’s mew softened. “I was worried you didn’t come to the Moonstone because you blamed StarClan for letting him die.”

  She blinked at him. “I did blame them,” she admitted. “But that’s not why I didn’t go.”

  “Do you still blame them?”

  Moth Flight shook her head. “Even if they’d known his destiny, they might have been powerless to change it. And you’re right: What would I have done if I’d known?”

  As she spoke, Pebble Heart’s gaze flicked past her shoulder. She stiffened as she saw his hackles rise. Opening her mouth, she tasted the air. Cat scents were billowing behind her.

  She turned, flattening her ears.

  Two cats padded from among the trees.

  “Moth Flight!” A plump black-and-white farm cat called out to her.

  The brown tom at her side swished his tail. “We thought we’d never find you!”

  “Cow!” Moth Flight hurried toward them, her heart quickening with delight. “Mouse!”

  Cow’s gaze was rimmed with sadness. “We heard about Micah.”

  Mouse’s tail drooped. “Did he suffer?”

  Moth Flight stopped in her tracks, her mew catching in her throat as she remembered Micah’s last moments. “Not for long,” she managed to mew.

  Cow weaved around her, her soft pelt brushing warmly against Moth Flight’s fur.

  Mouse dipped his head to Pebble Heart. “I hope you don’t mind us coming,” he meowed. “We crossed the moor, looking for Micah. A cat named Gorse Fur told us about the accident.”

  Cow held Moth Flight’s gaze, her eyes brimming with sadness. “He said you were with him at the end.”

  Moth F
light wondered for a moment if they blamed her for taking Micah away. But Cow wrapped her tail over Moth Flight’s spine, her gaze warm with sympathy. “It must have been hard for you.”

  “At least I was with him.” Her throat tightened as she remembered. She swallowed back grief, noticing their dusty pelts. “You must be tired. It’s a long journey from the farm.”

  Pebble Heart padded forward. “Come back to the camp and rest.” He glanced at the bunch of stems. “I need to get these back before they start to rot.”

  Cow stared at the sodden bundle. “Why are you gathering wet nettles?”

  Mouse glanced around the shadowy pine forest, puzzled. “Isn’t there any prey here?”

  “There’s plenty,” Pebble Heart purred. “I’m collecting nettles in case one of my Clanmates gets sick.”

  Cow blinked. “Will stinging them help?”

  Moth Flight’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “They don’t sting, now that we’ve soaked them. They’ll help soothe wounds and, if you eat them, they ease aching bones.”

  “You seem a lot smarter than when we first met.” Cow winked at Pebble Heart. “She tried to cross a field while the farm dog was herding sheep.”

  Moth Flight purred, remembering. “Micah saved me.”

  Cow caught her eye. “You must miss him.”

  “I do,” she answered huskily. “We were mates.”

  Cow pressed her muzzle to Moth Flight’s cheek.

  Pebble Heart flicked his tail toward brambles showing among the pines. “The camp’s not far.” He picked up one end of the grass stem between his teeth and began to drag the nettle bundle across the forest floor. Mouse hurried to grab the trailing end.

  Cow fell in beside Moth Flight. “How long since Micah died?”

  “A moon,” Moth Flight told her softly.

  They walked on, sharing their grief in silence.

  As they neared the camp, Raven Pelt padded from the entrance, tasting the air. His gaze flashed toward them, narrowing as he saw Mouse and Cow.

  Moth Flight hurried to meet him. “They’re friends,” she explained. “They lived on the same farm as Micah.”