by Erin Hunter
“That’s because I am old,” Mistyfoot pointed out. “Blackclaw was only a few seasons older than me! Sometimes I feel as if I have outstayed my welcome here, as if I should be walking in StarClan with Stonefur by now.”
“That’s mouse-brained, and you know it,” Mothwing retorted. “You have a long life yet to live. Nine long lives, in fact.”
Nine lives! For a heartbeat, Mistyfoot felt overwhelmed with tiredness. How would she find enough energy to lead her Clan when she could barely move her paws? Would she have a chance to feel sad about Leopardstar’s death, with so much to do? Mothwing seemed to sense her hesitation.
“There will be plenty of time to grieve for Leopardstar. I will be here whenever you need me. You are not alone, Mistyfoot. You must summon our Clanmates; tell them about Leopardstar. You are their leader now, and they need you as much as they needed Leopardstar.”
Keeping her tail on Mistyfoot’s spine, Mothwing led her back to the camp. Mistyfoot breathed in the delicate scent of herbs from her friend’s pelt and began to feel better. “I couldn’t do this without you,” she murmured.
“Nor should you have to,” Mothwing replied briskly. “I am your medicine cat, and I will do everything I can to help you.”
The clearing was already filling up with cats, who circled anxiously, whispering. Mistyfoot jumped onto the broad willow stump outside Leopardstar’s den and called to her Clanmates. “Let all cats old enough to swim gather to hear my words!” In spite of her grief, she couldn’t help feeling a rush of excitement as the cats stopped circling and settled on their haunches around the tree stump, gazing expectantly up at her. Mothwing was right! They see me as their leader even before I have been given my nine lives and my new name!
“Leopardstar has gone to walk with StarClan,” she announced. A murmur of sadness spread through the cats like a gust of cold wind.
“We were lucky to have her as our leader for so many moons,” Graymist mewed. “She was brave and strong-willed on behalf of all of us.”
“She told me I was doing really well in my battle training,” the apprentice Mossypaw commented mournfully.
Duskfur drew her kits closer with a sweep of her tail. “I had hoped she would live long enough to see these little ones become apprentices,” she sighed.
Beetlewhisker stood up, his brown-and-white pelt gleaming in the early rays of the sun. “When will you be getting your nine lives?” he asked Mistyfoot.
Mistyfoot winced. This was what she had been afraid of, that she would scarcely have time to draw breath—let alone mourn the former leader—before she was plunged into her new life. But she had been Leopardstar’s deputy for a long time, and she had always known what her duties would be when this moment came. And she couldn’t help looking forward to the chance to walk with Mothwing among her warrior ancestors, to learn the secrets of the future that would help her to lead her Clan. “I’ll go to the Moonpool as soon as I can,” she declared.
Mothwing stirred, and Mistyfoot looked questioningly at her. “We can wait until tomorrow,” meowed the medicine cat. “We must sit vigil for Leopardstar tonight.”
A black tom stood up and nodded to Mistyfoot. “I speak for all the warriors when I say that I will be honored to serve you as my leader,” he announced.
“Thank you, Reedwhisker,” Mistyfoot purred. Her mind flashed back to the time she had nursed this cat at her belly with his littermates; he was the only one of her kits who had survived, and every day she took pride in the warrior he had become.
Petalfur twitched her tail. “Some of us can speak for ourselves,” she mewed irritably. “But I will be as loyal to you as I was to Leopardstar, may she walk in peace among the stars.”
“Mistystar!” called Troutpaw.
Mistyfoot narrowed her eyes at the pale gray apprentice. “Not yet, Troutpaw. Not until I have received my nine lives.” Tomorrow I will walk with our ancestors, and say good-bye to my warrior name forever.
Mistyfoot jumped down from the tree stump and called to Grasspelt: “Could you lead a hunting patrol before sunhigh? Take Minnowtail and Mossypaw, and Icewing if she feels up to it.”
The white she-cat sniffed. “Of course I’m up to it! I’ve spent the last three sunrises stuck in this camp, so I’m more than ready to stretch my legs.”
Mistyfoot hid a purr of amusement. “You’re allowed to rest as much as you want after journeying to the beavers’ dam,” she reminded Icewing. “But if you feel like hunting, then we’d all be grateful for your sharp eyes.”
Reedwhisker padded up to Mistyfoot. “Would you like me to visit the other Clans and let them know about Leopardstar’s death?”
Mistyfoot shook her head. “No. They’ll find out soon enough. We must honor Leopardstar by carrying out our duties as usual.”
“In that case, should I lead a boundary patrol?” Reedwhisker offered. “I want to be sure that the fox we scented yesterday hasn’t come any closer to the camp.”
Mistyfoot nodded. “Yes, please. And keep an eye out for squirrels or mice while you’re on that side of the territory. In case there aren’t many fish to be found in the lake yet.” She wondered if any of her Clanmates knew just how empty the water seemed to be. If they haven’t noticed on their own, I’m not going to point it out to them. But we might need to stock the fresh-kill pile with other prey for a while.
“You won’t have to do this for much longer,” mewed Graymist close to her ear.
Mistyfoot jumped. “Do what?” She wondered if she had said something about the lack of fish out loud.
Graymist nodded toward the cats who were gathering into groups. “Organize patrols. You’ll have to appoint a deputy before moonhigh, won’t you?”
“A deputy?” Mistyfoot echoed. “Yes, of course.”
The she-cat looked at her closely. “Do you know who you’ll choose? You must have thought about it before now.”
Mistyfoot didn’t think she could admit that no, she hadn’t. Of course she had known that Leopardstar was sick, but she hadn’t really imagined that the leader’s ninth life would end. There was so much to do! And all of it seemed to rest on her shoulders. To her relief, Reedwhisker called Graymist to join his border patrol and Mistyfoot didn’t have to answer.
For a moment the bushes were alive with movement as cats headed out on their patrols; then suddenly the clearing was empty and silent. Mistyfoot drew a deep breath and looked around. Everything was reassuringly familiar, from the well-trodden bare earth where the cats sat to eat and share tongues to the carefully draped brambles that hid the different dens. Only Mistyfoot felt changed beyond recognition, daunted and breathless at the thought of what lay ahead.
“Mistyfoot?” Willowshine was standing at the entrance to the medicine cats’ den, which was shielded between two mossy rocks. She trotted across the flattened grass with her tail kinked over her back. “Do you want me to come with you to the Moonpool? When you go to receive your nine lives, I mean.”
Mistyfoot blinked. “Isn’t that Mothwing’s duty?”
“Well, yes,” mewed Willowshine, sounding a little uncertain. “But as it’s your first time sharing tongues with our ancestors, I thought you might like more company.”
Mistyfoot purred. “I’m not afraid of walking in StarClan, little one. But you are kind to offer, and one day I’m sure you will accompany your leader as they receive their nine lives. But it’s Mothwing’s responsibility this time.”
Again there was a puzzling flash of hesitation in the gray tabby’s eyes; then she nodded. “Of course,” she meowed. “Whatever happens tomorrow, I wish you well.” She ducked away, back to her den, leaving Mistyfoot frowning after her. Whatever happens tomorrow? Was there something she should be afraid of? She shrugged, deciding that Willowshine was just a little too eager to prove her merit as a medicine cat, and perhaps not quite experienced enough for all of the responsibilities.
She crossed the clearing to the Clan’s favorite basking place, a sandy slope that was a poor substitute for
Sunningrocks, according to the cats who remembered the forest. Dapplenose and Pouncetail lay in the soft golden light, their tails twitching and their eyes half-closed. But I bet they haven’t missed a single moment of what’s happened this morning, Mistyfoot thought.
“We need to find somewhere to bury Leopardstar,” she mewed, feeling grief weigh in her belly like a stone.
The elders nodded, and Dapplenose stood up, shaking sand from her mottled gray pelt. “I know just the place. Follow me.” Pouncetail got to his paws more stiffly, stretching out each ginger-and-white leg in turn. Dapplenose led them over the crest of a slope and into the spindly trees on the other side. She swerved along a half-hidden path through a dense patch of comfrey until they emerged in a little clearing, shaded by a young rowan tree with a clear view of the lake and the island where the Clans gathered at each full moon. Behind the island, the hills where WindClan lived rose up to meet the clouds—and beyond that ridge lay the forest, Leopardstar’s first home.
“I’ve always thought this would be a good spot for Leopardstar to rest,” Dapplenose explained.
Mistyfoot nodded. “It’s perfect. Are you able to dig the hole, or should I fetch some help?”
Pouncetail snorted. “For StarClan’s sake, trust us to do this one last duty for our leader! Do you think we’ve lost the use of our legs?”
Dapplenose lay her tail across her denmate’s shoulders. “Ignore this bad-tempered old trout,” she told Mistyfoot. “But he’s right that we can manage. You should go back to the clearing and have something to eat. You look exhausted, and you’ll need your strength for the journey to the Moonpool.”
Feeling a little overwhelmed by the old she-cat’s motherly sympathy, Mistyfoot thanked them and pushed her way back through the comfrey. In the clearing, Grasspelt’s patrol had returned with a catch of two tiny minnows, and set out again. Duskfur was prodding the minnows thoughtfully, but when Mistyfoot appeared, she pushed them toward her. “You take these,” she urged. “My kits and I can eat later.”
Mistyfoot blinked. Was she so old that her Clanmates were worried about her ability to cope with becoming leader?
Duskfur seemed to guess her thoughts. “Let us help you however we can,” she prompted gently. “We know the sacrifices you will be making for us from now on.”
Mistyfoot didn’t argue. She couldn’t tell Duskfur how isolated she suddenly felt from the cats who had been her friends and denmates all her life. Leopardstar’s death had changed everything. Thank StarClan I have Mothwing, she thought. She’s the only cat who understands how it feels to be responsible for the entire Clan.
As she chewed on the minnow, she watched the two medicine cats carefully pull Leopardstar’s body out of her den and cover her pelt with rosemary and watermint. The scent of the fresh herbs hung in the air, smothering the taint of death. Mistyfoot heard Willowshine warn Mothwing that they were using the last of their supplies of watermint, but Mothwing just shook her head and told her to keep going. “Leopardstar needs it more than we do now,” she insisted.
Mistyfoot’s heart swelled with warmth toward her old friend. She knew how lucky she was to have Mothwing as her medicine cat. There was no way she could even contemplate the path ahead without her.
As the light began to fade, the cats of RiverClan gathered around the body of their former leader for the start of the long night vigil. The air was filled with the scent of herbs, and the wind had dropped so that the waves were little more than a gentle whisper beyond the bushes. Mistyfoot sat at Leopardstar’s head, watching her Clanmates file sadly past.
Mothwing appeared beside her. “Are you ready to name your deputy? The moon is rising.”
The cats closest to them pricked their ears, and Mistyfoot felt their gazes prick her pelt. She nodded and stood up. “Let all cats old enough to swim gather to hear my words!”
At once the line of cats stopped moving and turned to face her. They all knew what was coming. Would they approve of her choice? Mistyfoot wondered. Once more she felt her legs tremble beneath the weight of new duties, and she took a step toward Mothwing so she could draw strength from the warmth of the medicine cat’s fur.
“It is time for me to name my deputy,” Mistyfoot announced, her voice sounding sharp and high-pitched in the cool night air. “Reedwhisker, I invite you to walk beside me and help me to lead this Clan. May StarClan hear and approve my choice.”
There was a moment of silence; then the cats broke into cheers. “Reedwhisker! Congratulations!”
Mistyfoot’s son stepped forward, his dark gray eyes shining. “I am honored to be chosen,” he purred. “And I will lay down my life to protect you and my Clanmates.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Mistyfoot told him. She stretched out her neck to rest her muzzle on top of his head. Reedwhisker’s fur still smelled as it had when he was her kit.
There was a cross-sounding mutter from the shadows at the edge of the clearing: “I bet she only chose him because he’s her son!”
“Hush, Mossypaw!” snapped Minnowtail. “Reedwhisker is a loyal and brave warrior, and will make a great deputy.”
I hope so, thought Mistyfoot. She had expected some criticism for naming her son as her deputy, but she wanted to believe that wasn’t the reason behind her decision.
“A brave choice,” murmured Mothwing in her ear. “But the right one, I think.”
Mistyfoot felt a bit better, but she would have been more comforted if Mothwing had mentioned some sign of approval from StarClan, or even an omen that foresaw her announcement.
“Excuse me, Mistyfoot?” Duskfur was standing in front of her. “Is it okay if I take my little ones off now? They’re getting tired.”
Mistyfoot looked at the two kits, who were yawning and blinking their huge, round eyes. “Of course,” she purred.
As Duskfur herded her family across the clearing, the line of cats started moving again.
“Farewell, Leopardstar. May you have good hunting in StarClan.”
“We’ll meet again, old friend. Save me a place to enjoy the sun.”
“Wow! I’ve never seen a dead body before! What’s all that green stuff on her fur?”
“Rushpaw, go to your den if you can’t behave properly. And put that watermint down!”
Finally Mistyfoot was alone in the clearing with Leopardstar and the elders, who would stay beside their former leader all night. Mistyfoot bent and touched her muzzle to Leopardstar’s cool, leaf-thin ear. “May the sun warm your back and the fish leap into your paws,” she murmured.
“I haven’t heard that said for a long time,” rasped Pouncetail. “Not since we lived in the forest.”
“Graypool used to say it when Stonefur and I were going to sleep,” Mistyfoot mewed. “It was her way of wishing us good dreams.”
“Ah, Stonefur,” sighed Pouncetail. “I still miss him.” He looked at Mistyfoot, narrowing his eyes through the gloom. “You had much to forgive Leopardstar for, didn’t you?”
Mistyfoot swallowed. “She was a good leader for most of her life,” she replied. “That is what she should be remembered for.” She lay down with her nose pressed against Leopardstar’s fur. I promise to be the strongest, wisest leader I can be. I will do my best to echo your loyalty to RiverClan and your courage to speak out on our behalf, and I will learn from your mistakes. I know that I don’t need to prove to the other Clans that RiverClan is the strongest or most powerful. I just want my Clanmates to be happy and at peace.
“And that is the best ambition of all,” murmured a voice behind her.
Mistyfoot sprang up and spun around. A gray cat stood behind her, this thick fur glowing with starlight. “Stonefur!”
The cat nodded. “Did you think I would miss this night?” he meowed. “I have been watching you all this time, and I am so proud that you are going to lead our Clan.”
Mistyfoot’s tail drooped. “It should have been you.”
Stonefur shook his head. “That was not my destiny. I wish you well,
Mistyfoot. You will need great courage for what lies ahead, but remember that you are not alone. I will always walk beside you. We will meet again soon.”
His fur began to fade, until Mistyfoot could see the dark leaves on the bushes behind him. “Wait!” she called. “What do you mean? Why will I need great courage? Is there a battle coming?”
But there was no answer, just a muffled snore from Pouncetail, who was sleeping beside her. Mistyfoot stared wildly around the clearing, but her brother had gone. Had he been trying to warn her that something dreadful was on the horizon? There was no chance that Mistyfoot would be able to sleep now. She padded carefully past the sleeping elders and went to the entrance of the medicine cats’ den.
“Mothwing!” she called in a loud whisper.
There was a faint murmur from behind the boulders; then the medicine cat appeared. She looked wide-eyed and ruffled, as if she hadn’t been able to sleep either. “What it is?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”
“I need to go to the Moonpool now!” Mistyfoot told her. “Stonefur visited me in a dream, and there are things I need to ask him.”
Mothwing looked alarmed. “Why? What did he say?”
“Nothing that made sense!” Mistyfoot hissed. “Come on, we have to go!”
“It would be safer to wait until dawn,” Mothwing hedged. “Since we have to cross WindClan territory.”
“No, we have to leave now,” Mistyfoot insisted. “If trouble is coming, RiverClan cannot be without a leader any longer! There is so much I have to learn!”
Mothwing padded out from her den and shook a few clinging scraps of herb from her fur. “Yes,” she murmured. “There is more to learn than you know.”
Chapter 3
The first light of dawn was beginning to appear on the horizon when Mistyfoot and Mothwing reached the top of WindClan’s ridge. It had been too early for any patrols, so they had crossed the moor unchallenged, traveling in silence apart from the soft brush of their paws on the grass. Mistyfoot paused to catch her breath at the crest of the hill and looked back down at the lake. The water looked thick and almost black from here, pushing against the curls and points of the shoreline. The RiverClan camp was a dark smudge on the far side; Mistyfoot pictured the cats in the clearing, and she wondered if any of them were looking up at the ridge at this moment, spotting her silhouetted against the milky sunrise.