by Erin Hunter
Squirrelflight’s heart ached as she watched Sparkpelt pad limply from the den. “Doesn’t she care?” She turned her gaze on Leafpool.
“She’s numb with grief,” Leafpool told her. “It will pass. Feeding the kits might help.”
“Might?” Squirrelflight stiffened.
“Larksong only just died,” Leafpool reminded her gently. “Give Sparkpelt time.”
Squirrelflight closed her eyes. I must be patient. She blinked them open and flicked her tail. “Can you come with me to visit the Sisters?”
“Of course.” Leafpool tipped her head to one side. “Why?”
“Bramblestar wants to know what meadow saffron looks like, and I want to see if Moonlight’s had her kits yet. She looked close to kitting last time we saw her.”
“Are you wondering when they’re going to move on?”
“It would be better if they could leave soon,” Squirrelflight confessed. “Mousewhisker and Berrynose think the Sisters are responsible for the sickness and unrest. I’m worried that if all the Clans turn against them, they might be in danger.”
Leafpool nodded. “Come on.” She headed for the den entrance. “Let’s go.”
“Squirrelflight!” Tempest met the patrol at the top of the valley, lifting her tail as she caught sight of them. She hurried along the ridge to meet them. “How are your sick Clanmates?”
Squirrelflight dipped her head. “Larksong died.”
Tempest’s eyes widened. “Didn’t the dandelion root work?”
“There wasn’t time to give him any. He was too sick.” Squirrelflight glanced over her shoulder at Blossomfall, Cherryfall, and Leafpool. Their fur was ruffled from the journey. A brisk, chilly wind was whisking over the valley.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Tempest blinked sympathetically at Squirrelflight. She began to head down toward the camp. “Come on. It’s cold here.”
“We managed to save another cat, though.” Squirrelflight followed her along the winding trail, Leafpool, Cherryfall, and Blossomfall at her heels. “Actually, it was my daughter.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Tempest pushed through the ferns at the camp entrance, the fronds brushing her long fur flat.
Squirrelflight followed her through. “How’s Moonlight?”
“She’s well.” Tempest stopped on the grassy clearing.
Furze poked her head from a den. “Why did you come?”
“I need to know what meadow saffron looks like,” Squirrelflight told the ginger cat. “Too many plants have purple flowers.”
Moonlight’s den rustled. “It’s a tall purple flower.” The gray she-cat squeezed out. She padded heavily across the grass, her belly so wide that she looked like a badger. Squirrelflight saw Leafpool frown. Was something wrong? She stiffened as Moonlight went on. “It’s easy to spot. The leaves die back before the flower opens. It’s quite strange, poking up from the forest floor without leaves. Like an owl without feathers.”
Flurry padded from behind the dogwood, followed by Snow, sliding from between the bushes. They blinked at the ThunderClan patrol.
Snow narrowed her eyes. “You’re back soon.”
Blossomfall’s pelt prickled. “We need to know when you plan to leave.”
“Once the kits are ready.” Moonlight looked at her belly. “They will come soon. We’ll leave once they’ve opened their eyes.”
Leafpool narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been expecting kits for a long time.”
Moonlight looked back at her wearily. “It feels like moons since I first felt them move.”
Squirrelflight shifted her paws. “Sparkpelt found out she was expecting kits soon after we met you. She’s had them now.” Surely you should have had yours. But Sparkpelt’s kits had come early.
Moonlight purred. “Congratulations. Are they well?”
Squirrelflight dropped her gaze. “The youngest died. A tom.”
Moonlight’s gaze darkened. “I’m sorry to hear that. Such a loss is never easy.” She glanced at Snow. “We could perform a small ceremony for him.”
Blossomfall bristled. “We’ve sat vigil,” she mewed sharply. “That’s ceremony enough.”
Leafpool’s ears pricked. “I’d be interested to see the Sisters’ ceremony.”
Blossomfall huffed. “Don’t expect me to join in.”
“We expect nothing of you but to witness it,” Moonlight told her. “A spirit so young needs guiding. He won’t understand what he’s lost and who waits for him beyond death. We must help him find a place in the hearts of the living and the dead so that he can know both.”
She beckoned Snow, Furze, and Creek nearer with a flick of her tail. Then she nodded to Tempest. “Do we have coltsfoot?”
“I’ll fetch some.” Tempest slipped quickly into one of the dens and returned holding a small bunch of yellow flowers between her jaws. She carried them across the clearing and dropped them at Moonlight’s paws.
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.
They ate in silence until there was nothing left but feathers; then Leafpool rolled onto her side. “Have you talked to Bramblestar yet?”
Squirrelflight sat up and began to wash. She knew what Leafpool was getting at. If she wanted to heal the rift between her and Bramblestar, she’d have to talk to him. “It’s not easy.”
“Why not?” Leafstar stretched. “He’s your mate.”
“What if I ask him about kits and he still doesn’t want them as much as I do?” Squirrelflight gazed distractedly between the trees. “Or I ask him about the Sisters and he says they have to leave? I know he’s still angry that I went off and found them in the first place. I’m sure he thinks it’s my fault the Clans are fighting.”
Leafpool huffed. “The Clans are always fighting.”
“I guess.” Squirrelflight felt suddenly weary. “But this time Bramblestar blames me.”
“Are you sure?” Leafpool glanced at her.
Squirrelflight twitched her tail. “I’m not sure of anything right now.”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“It might make things worse.”
Leafpool sat up. “Will they get better if you keep quiet?”
“Maybe.” Squirrelflight was beginning to think silence was the only way things might get better. “We only spend time together when we’re playing with Flamekit and Finchkit.” Pleasure fluttered faintly in her chest as she pictured Bramblestar giving them badger rides around the nursery. “I think Bramblestar loves them even more than I do.”
Leafpool eyed her steadily. “Do you still want more kits with him?”
“Of course I do.” Squirrelflight felt the familiar twinge of longing in her heart. “But I can’t see that happening now. We barely talk.”
As she spoke, paw steps thrummed at the top of the rise. Twigbranch, Finleap, and Honeyfur charged down the slope carrying prey. They scrambled to a halt and dropped their catch beside Squirrelflight.
“Leafpool caught a sparrow,” she told them proudly.
Finleap eyed the pile of feathers, his gaze sparking with amusement. “Was it tasty?”
“Very.” Leafpool purred. She glanced at Squirrelflight. “We should catch another for the Clan.”
Honeyfur nodded toward the sunny glade ahead. “There’ll be plenty over there.”
“Let’s catch as many as we can,” Twigbranch mewed. “The Clan will want a big meal before tonight’s Gathering.”
As the young warriors hurried away, Squirrelflight got to her paws. “I’m not looking forward to this Gathering,” she confided to Leafpool.
“It will be tense,” Leafpool agreed. They headed after their Clanmates. “Do you think ShadowClan and RiverClan have come to an agreement about their border?”
“I hope so.” Squirrelflight ducked beneath a branch. “Otherwise, Tigerstar might insist on pushing the Sisters off their land.”
“Perhaps the Sisters have left by now,” Leafpool mewed hopefully.
“I doubt it.” Squirrelflight’s pelt prickled nervously. Moonlight must have kitted by now, but the kits wouldn’t be ready to travel for a while.
Ahead, Honeyfur stopped beside an oak and scraped her fur against the rough bark. Squirrelflight padded past her and gazed into the sunny glade. Twigbranch and Finleap were already charging through the ragged blueberrybushes. What if the Sisters had moved on? Everything would be solved. SkyClan could move onto their land, an
d the Clans would have no reason to fight. She and Bramblestar could forget their differences, and life could go back to how it was.
Her paws felt suddenly heavy. Nothing was ever that simple.
Night folded itself around the lake, swathing the valley in darkness. After the long walk from camp, Squirrelflight sensed tension as soon as she slid from the long grass. ShadowClan,WindClan, and RiverClan hung back at the edges of the island clearing, their gazes glittering with hostility as they eyed one another. Scorchfur tugged Flaxpaw back by his scruff as the ShadowClan apprentice began to head toward RiverClan. “Not tonight,” he growled.
“I was only going to talk to the other apprentices.” Flaxpaw looked at his mentor hopefully.
“You might as well talk to foxes,” Scorchfur hissed.
Lightpaw, Pouncepaw, and Shadowpaw stood close to Dovewing while Tigerstar wove around them protectively. Only SkyClan seemed relaxed. They watched the other Clans, tipping their heads as though puzzled by the unfriendliness. Leafstar hurried to meet Bramblestar as soon as he crossed the clearing.
“What’s wrong with every cat?” The SkyClan leader blinked at him. “I didn’t realize things had gotten worse. Stonewing lashed out at Mallownose before you arrived.” She glanced nervously at the star-specked sky, where wisps of clouds trailed above the forest. If the truce was broken, clouds would hide the moon and the Clans would have to go home, their grievances unresolved.
Bramblestar glanced around at the gathered cats, his pelt prickling along his spine. “There’s more tension over the borders,” he told the SkyClan leader. “But that doesn’t mean you must make a decision before you’re ready.”
Leafstar caught Squirrelflight’s eye. “Have you heard from Moonlight? Has she had her kits?”
“She must have,” Squirrelflight told her. “But newborn kits won’t be ready to travel for a while.”
Bramblestar flicked his tail impatiently. “I wish she’d hurry up before we’re all at war,” he growled. He padded toward the Great Oak and leaped onto the lowest branch.