by Erin Hunter
Wind Runner’s snarl made her stop. “Where are you going?”
“I have to help Tiny Branch!” She skidded to a halt and glared at Wind Runner.
“I told you! SkyClan is on their own!” Wind Runner’s eyes blazed with fury.
“You decided that!” Moth Flight hissed. “I’m a medicine cat. I won’t stand by and let cats die.”
Shocked mews sounded around her.
“She can’t go!”
“She must!”
“What about the kits?”
“That’s Clear Sky’s problem!”
Shattered Ice blocked her path. “Clear Sky must learn that he can’t push the other Clans around.”
Moth Flight flexed her claws. “Get out of my way.”
A low growl rumbled behind her. Dust Muzzle stalked past and faced Shattered Ice. “Let her pass. Tiny Branch shouldn’t have to pay for his father’s mistakes.” He looked meaningfully at Thunder.
Thunder dropped his gaze. “Let her go, Shattered Ice.”
Shattered Ice glared at Thunder, hackles raised. “You’re not my leader.”
“But I am.” River Ripple stepped forward. “Let her pass.”
Growling, Shattered Ice backed away.
Moth Flight glanced at Dust Muzzle. “Thank you.” Breaking into a run, she pelted up the slope. Sparrow Fur charged after her, Cloud Spots, Dappled Pelt, and Pebble Heart at his heels.
Sparrow Fur dodged in front of her as they reached the top of the slope. “Follow me!”
Zigzagging past brambles and leaping logs, she blazed a winding trail through the thick woodland. Moth Flight’s chest burned as she raced to keep up. Behind her, she could hear the thrumming paw steps of Cloud Spots, Dappled Pelt, and Pebble Heart.
As the forest floor began to slope down, she recognized the glade where Sparrow Fur had stopped her and sent her home only a few days earlier. The tortoiseshell crossed it and headed for a thick clump of brambles. Ducking through a small gap at one edge, she disappeared. Moth Flight narrowed her eyes against the prickly stalks and followed her through, surprised to find herself emerging into a small hollow edged by trees and lush ferns.
Clear Sky stood in the center. Star Flower trembled beside him. The rest of SkyClan ringed around them, their horrified gazes fixed on a blood-soaked scrap of fur lying at Clear Sky’s paws.
Tiny Branch!
Moth Flight scrambled to a halt and crouched beside the kit. She could hear her own heart pounding in her ears as she swiftly scanned his body. There were deep teeth wounds on his flank. His hind paw was twisted and bloody, as though it had been yanked from a thorn bush. His eyes were closed, flickering slightly. His muzzle was clumped with dried blood.
She smelled the sharp tang of horsetail and marigold rising from Tiny Branch’s wound. Dried green pulp showed on his bloody fur. Acorn Fur had clearly been trying to treat him for some time. Moth Flight glanced at Clear Sky. “Where’s Acorn Fur?”
“She went to find cobwebs.” Clear Sky’s mew was tight.
Moth Flight pictured the SkyClan medicine cat struggling alone to help Tiny Branch. Sympathy pricked at her heart. She wasn’t trained to deal with injuries as bad as this. She must be terrified. “She should have sent for help sooner.”
Clear Sky’s tail twitched. “SkyClan doesn’t ask for help unless there’s no choice.”
Did you stop her? Moth Flight angrily swallowed back the words. Picking a fight with Clear Sky wouldn’t help Tiny Branch.
Star Flower didn’t wrench her gaze from her kit. “Will he be okay?”
Moth Flight didn’t answer. “Where’s her herb store?”
Clear Sky stared at her blankly. “I don’t think she has one.”
Red Claw stepped forward. “She’s been gathering herbs for a while,” he told his leader.
Moth Flight turned to the dark red tom. “Where are they?”
Red Claw began to lead the way to a short steep slope where the roots of an oak snaked into the earth.
As Moth Flight straightened to follow, she felt Dappled Pelt’s nose on her shoulder.
“I’ll go with him.”
“Bring every herb she’s got,” Moth Flight told her. She glanced at Pebble Heart. “What can we do?” She wasn’t sure which wound to treat first.
Pebble Heart crouched beside Tiny Branch while Cloud Spots shooed the Clan backward, making room on the kit’s other side.
Pebble Heart pressed his paws on the brightest wound, where blood was still welling. “We need to stop this bleeding first. It’s the worst injury.”
Moth Flight slipped her paws under his. “I’ll press the blood back while you check the rest of him.” Warmth oozed under her pads. Fear flashed beneath her pelt, but she ignored it.
Cloud Spots sniffed Tiny Branch’s mangled hind paw. “This needs wet nettles to take down the swelling.”
Moth Flight looked toward the slope, relieved to see Dappled Pelt hurrying back, a wad of leaves in her jaws.
“Are there any nettles in there?” Moth Flight asked as Dappled Pelt dropped the herbs beside her.
“No.” Dapped Pelt began to sort through the pile. “It’s mainly chervil and borage.”
Moth Flight stiffened, frustration flaring through her. If only she’d been allowed to finish training Acorn Fur! Her store would be fully stocked. She avoided Clear Sky’s gaze, swallowing back anger. Tiny Branch is his kit. This wasn’t the time to argue about borders.
“There’s some thyme here.” Dappled Pelt mewed hopefully.
Moth Flight frowned at the unconscious kit. “He can’t chew anything.”
“We could put a sprig under his tongue,” Pebble Heart suggested.
“That’s better than nothing.” Moth Flight pressed harder on the wound as Pebble Heart slipped a claw between Tiny Branch’s lips and very gently levered his jaws open.
Alarm sparked in her belly. The kit’s breath was so weak she could hardly feel his flank move. He was as limp as dead prey.
She watched, her mouth dry, as Pebble Heart slid a thyme stalk beneath the kit’s tongue.
“You’re here!” Acorn Fur burst into camp. Moth Flight saw relief glistening in the SkyClan medicine cat’s gaze. Cobwebs swathed her forepaws and she hurried over and peeled them off.
Pebble Heart took them from her and began stuffing shreds into the bloodiest wound. He nodded to Acorn Fur. “Put your paws here.”
As she pressed the cobwebs deep into the bloody flesh, Pebble Heart ripped the remaining wad into two and gave one half to Cloud Spots. Between them, they wrapped every graze and bite they could see.
Moth Flight leaned down and listened to Tiny Branch’s chest. There was no bubbling inside, but his heart was fluttering like a trapped bird, weak with exhaustion. Her belly tightened.
She glanced at Star Flower.
The golden tabby she-cat must have seen the despair in her gaze. She recoiled, pressing her muzzle into Clear Sky’s shoulder.
Clear Sky’s dark gaze swept the medicine cats, then fixed on Moth Flight. “He’ll live, won’t he?”
Tiny Branch suddenly whimpered. His eyes flickered open for a moment. Then he jerked, and fell still.
Clear Sky stared at him, his mouth open.
Moth Flight pressed her ear to Tiny Branch’s chest once again.
Nothing.
Her thoughts raced to her own kits. Were they safely tucked up with Rocky? What if a fox had gotten into the camp? What if one of them had wandered alone onto the moor? Panic tugged at her belly. She needed to see them. She had to know they were okay. But first she had to tell Clear Sky his son was dead.
She looked at the SkyClan leader, pity twisting her heart. “I’m so sorry.”
His eyes clouded. Pain flared in their blue depths. Moth Flight was startled to see the tough Clan leader sway on his paws. Star Flower rocked beside him, her nose buried deep in his pelt.
Their Clanmates began to move around them. Blossom tugged a clump of damp moss from between the roots of a tree
and carried it to Tiny Branch’s body. Gently she began to wipe the blood from his fur. Thorn and Quick Water pressed against Star Flower, supporting her as Clear Sky stepped away and crouched beside their dead kit. He rested his nose softly on the kit’s head. “I should have been there, my son. I should have saved you.”
Moth Flight glanced at Acorn Fur.
The SkyClan medicine cat was staring bleakly at her leader. Moth Flight got to her paws and pressed her nose to the brown she-cat’s cheek. “I don’t think any of us could have saved him,” she murmured.
“If only I’d had more cobwebs in my den,” she mewed thickly.
Pebble Heart straightened. “It would have taken more than cobwebs.”
“He’s with StarClan now,” Dappled Pelt gazed sympathetically at Acorn Fur. “You did all you could.”
The tugging in Moth Flight’s belly grew stronger. “I have to see my kits.” Guilt flashed through her as Clear Sky jerked up his nose and stared at her. “I’m sorry—” She began to apologize, but he cut her off.
“Go to them,” he growled hoarsely.
She backed toward the entrance, grief tearing at her heart. “I wish we could have come straight away.”
Clear Sky’s gaze hardened. “Why didn’t you?”
Moth Flight froze. She felt the anxious gazes of the other medicine cats flashed toward her.
Sparrow Fur stepped forward. “Wind Runner didn’t want her to come,” she mumbled. “She said that SkyClan was on its own.”
Clear Sky straightened, the muscles in his broad shoulders rippling.
Star Flower padded forward shakily. “She was going to let a kit die?”
“It’s not that simple.” Fear flashed through Moth Flight. She only wanted peace. “You need to speak with Wind Runner.”
Star Flower’s green eyes brimmed with pain. She turned away.
Clear Sky blinked at Moth Flight. “You should go,” he growled. “Your kits need you.”
Her heart pounding, Moth Flight turned and raced out of camp. The scent of Tiny Branch’s blood lingered on her tongue. My kits! She had to know they were safe. She hared through the forest, her paws skidding on fallen leaves as she swerved among the brambles and ferns. She broke from the forest and pelted onto the moor. She needed to smell her kits and feel their warmth against her muzzle. Her gaze fixed on the distant hollow, she pushed against the coarse grass, racing breathlessly upslope. Bursting into camp, she bounded over the moonlit tussocks and ducked into her den.
Rocky lifted his head sleepily and blinked at her. The kits were curled against his belly. “I told you I’d have them tucked up by the time you got home.”
Peace enfolded Moth Flight as she gazed at her beautiful kits. Spider Paw stirred in his sleep, stretching a paw to rest it on Bubbling Stream’s muzzle. Bubbling Stream pushed it off and rolled over, a tiny whimper escaping as she snuggled against Blue Whisker’s pelt.
Moth Flight padded closer, breathing in their milky scent. She closed her eyes and lifted her muzzle. Thank you, StarClan, for keeping them safe.
CHAPTER 29
“Slate!” Moth Flight called across the clearing. “Will you keep an eye on my kits while I check on Rocky?”
Honey Pelt slid under her belly. “We don’t need anyone to watch us! We’re nearly two moons old.”
Moth Flight smoothed his ruffled fur, sweeping her tail along his spine. “I just want to know someone’s looking out for you.”
Spider Paw sniffed. “What can happen to us in camp?”
Bubbling Stream was rolling in the sun-warmed earth of the sandy hollow, like a sparrow taking a dust bath. Blue Whisker watched her from the edge, her pelt pricking as though the thought of getting dusty horrified her.
Slate looked up blearily from where she’d been dozing in the early morning sunshine. “I’m coming.” She got stiffly to her paws.
Moth Flight guessed that last night’s Gathering had left the she-cat sleepy. Her thick, gray fur looked matted, as though she hadn’t even washed. Moth Flight felt a flash of guilt. Perhaps she should let Slate rest. But Rocky had come to her den, just as Spotted Fur and Reed Tail were leaving for the dawn patrol. He’d been awake all night with aching joints. She had to help him.
She glanced at Honey Pelt, her heart pricking as she remembered Tiny Branch. She wanted to gather her kits to her belly—as she had when they were newly born—and keep them safely wrapped against her. But they were growing. They wanted to run and explore.
Rocky needs me more right now.
Fighting to save Tiny Branch’s life had reminded her how important her duties were to her Clan. Leaders talked of border patrols and battles; medicine cats were the ones who had to heal the wounds afterward. Unease itched beneath her pelt; could she have saved Tiny Branch? What if Clear Sky had let Acorn Fur call her sooner? What if Wind Runner hadn’t delayed her at Fourtrees? What if I knew more?
There was so much to be learned. She was determined to devote her life to her skill. It would help every cat.
“Moth Flight?”
She half heard Spider Paw’s mew. She looked up as he repeated her name.
“Moth Flight!” He was plucking at the grass outside their den. “Why can’t we go onto the moor?”
Moth Flight blinked at him, still half lost in her thoughts. “What, dear?”
“Why can’t we go out onto the moor?” Spider Paw repeated crossly.
“There are buzzards out there that might carry you off,” Moth Flight reminded him. “And foxes and Twoleg dogs. It’s not safe until you’re big enough to run or fight.”
Honey Pelt dropped into an attack pounce, wriggled his hindquarters, and leaped onto his brother. “We can fight!” he squeaked as Spider Paw struggled beneath him. They rolled, wrestling, across the grass.
“Be careful!” Moth Flight flinched as she saw Spider Paw’s unsheathed claws. “When you’re play fighting, remember to pull in your claws!”
Slate was padding across the clearing, her shoulders drooping.
She looks so tired. Moth Flight frowned. I hope she doesn’t fall asleep while I’m gone.
She glanced around the camp, hoping to find another cat willing to watch her kits while she tended to Rocky. But the clearing was deserted. Wind Runner had assigned patrols for the day. Gorse Fur had taken Storm Pelt, Dew Nose, and Swift Minnow to flush out rabbits from their burrows on the moortop. Dust Muzzle and Fern Leaf had led a patrol toward the gorge to find lapwings, while Jagged Peak and Holly had gone to gather heather for new nests. Only StarClan knew where Willow Tail was. The pale tabby hardly seemed to be in camp at all these days.
Spotted Fur and Reed Tail were sharing prey at the far end of the camp. Moth Flight blinked at them hopefully, but they were deep in conversation, lying in the long grass, relaxing after their dawn patrol.
Wind Runner lay, stretched on the rocks, beside the entrance. Moth Flight narrowed her eyes. There was no way she was asking her mother for help. They hadn’t spoken since the Gathering the night before. Slate would have to do.
Moth Flight watched the gray she-cat settle awkwardly beside the sandy hollow. “Call me if you need me,” Moth Flight told her, hoping she wouldn’t. She ducked into her den and pulled a wad of comfrey from her herb store. She’d gathered it yesterday and it was nicely wilted. It would be easy to wrap around Rocky’s stiff joints. She’d gather more later and line Rocky’s nest.
She was about to grab the bundle between her jaws when she hesitated. Glancing back at her stores, she grabbed a few extra leaves and rolled them up with the comfrey. Then she padded into the sunshine and crossed the tussocks to Rocky’s den.
She was pleased that her Clanmates had woven a shelter for the old tom. Holly was an expert at threading gorse and brambles into roofs and walls. Moth Flight had been dimly aware of the building work while she’d nursed her kits. She’d heard Holly’s mew issuing instructions and ordering her Clanmates to find more stems and sprigs for the den. She’d even made sure any gaps had been filled
with moss and leaves, so that, as Moth Flight padded inside, shadow swept her sun-warmed pelt.
Rocky blinked at her through the gloom. “Moth Flight?” His mew was tight. He must be in a lot of pain.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so long,” Moth Flight dropped the comfrey guiltily beside his nest. “I had to find someone to watch my kits.”
Rocky grunted. “I wish I could watch them for you.”
“You can, once these herbs start to make you feel better.” She unrolled the bundle and hooked out the extra leaves she’d tucked among them. “Eat these.” She laid the leaves on the side of his nest.
Rocky’s eyes gleamed. “Catmint.”
“I thought it’d help.”
Rocky purred, lapping them up.
As he closed his eyes contently, Moth Flight leaned into his nest and began wrapping his hind legs with the comfrey. “Once the sap seeps through your fur, the pain will start to ease,” she promised. “We need to make sure that your nest is lined with comfrey in the future. Now that White Tail, Silver Stripe, and Black Ear are old enough to go onto the moor, I’m sure they’ll be happy to gather fresh leaves for you.” Soon they’ll be old enough to become apprentices, Moth Flight thought, wondering which of the older cats would be chosen to teach the adolescents the finer points of hunting and caring for the Clan. It seemed like just yesterday she was helping fish Silver Stripe out of the tunnel. It’s amazing how fast the kits grow.
“Mmmmm.” Rocky was still purring.
Pleasure warmed Moth Flight’s pelt. Last night, as she’d fought to save Tiny Branch, she’d felt powerless. Now satisfaction moved deep in her belly as she eased her Clanmate’s pain.
“Moth Flight!” A pained shriek sounded outside.
She dropped the comfrey and darted from the den. Beside the tall rock, at the head of the sandy hollow, Slate crouched over Blue Whisker.
The kit was lying motionless on the ground.
Spider Paw and Honey Pelt pressed around Slate while Bubbling Stream hung back, her eyes wide with shock.