Erin Hunter - Starlight

“Yes, this is the place,” Barkface murmured.

He gestured with his tail for Leafpaw to lead the way down the path, and once again she felt her paws slipping into the pawprints made by those cats of long ago.

“I wonder how we’re supposed to share tongues with StarClan?” Littlecloud asked, when all the medicine cats were sitting around the Moonpool.

Leafpaw blinked. She hadn’t thought of that. Back at Mothermouth, cats used to lie with their noses touching the Moonstone; she remembered the icy chill that would creep through her fur, pulling her into a deep sleep where she could meet with StarClan.

She looked around, searching for something lit up by StarClan, as radiant as the Moonstone had been. There was nothing to see but the moss-covered rocks and trailing ferns—and the starlit surface of the pool. “Maybe we should touch the water?” she suggested.

The medicine cats glanced at one another. “It’s worth a try,” Barkface agreed.

Shivering, Leafpaw crept forward and lapped a few drops of water. It was icy cold, and tasted of stars and the wind and the indigo sky. She closed her eyes, breathing the scents as they flooded her mouth.

A chill spread from her ears to the tip of her tail, and she could no longer feel the stone beneath her paws. Instead she was floating in a black void, where everything was dark and silent. There were voices, too faint and shrill at first to hear what they were saying. Then the sound of wind and splashing water died away, and she realized they were calling her name.

“I’m here,” she whispered.

She opened her eyes. A vast stretch of water lay in front of her: not the Moonpool, tucked in its sheltering hollow, but the lake. Wind stirred the surface into rippling waves, tipped with curls of froth. The water looked as if it reflected a blazing sunset, with all shades of red lapping thickly at the shore.

But when Leafpaw looked up, the sky was dark and starlit.

The lake was filled with blood!

The voices called to her again, this time loud enough for her to hear, even though she wished she hadn’t almost before they had finished speaking: Before there is peace, blood will spill blood, and the lake will run red.

Leafpaw sprang up to run away, but her paws slipped in the sticky blood, and the stench of death engulfed her. With a gasp she opened her eyes. She was on the edge of the Moonpool again, her belly pressed flat against the cold stone, and beside her lay the other medicine cats. They were stirring and stretching, waking from their own dreams. The moon was dipping below the hilltop; Leafpaw’s legs, stiff from crouching so long in one position, confirmed how much time had passed.

Barkface and Littlecloud both looked very troubled; Leafpaw wondered if they had received warnings like hers.

Cinderpelt was studying Leafpaw with concern in her eyes, while Mothwing kept her gaze fixed on her paws.

Leafpaw guessed they would set out for their camps at once. She wanted to talk to Cinderpelt alone, wary of announcing her vision to the other medicine cats. But instead of leading the way back up the path, Cinderpelt sat down again on the edge of the Moonpool.

“Before we go back to our Clans,” she began, “I have one more task to do.” She waited until the other cats were sitting too, their faces turned attentively to her.

Leafpaw wondered what this was all about, since Cinderpelt hadn’t said anything to her on the way. Mothwing shot her a worried glance, and Leafpaw replied with a tiny shake of the head; she hadn’t revealed Mothwing’s lack of faith to Cinderpelt or any cat.

“Clan warriors receive their warrior name when their mentor thinks they are ready,” Cinderpelt continued. “It is the same for medicine cats.” With a glint in her eyes she turned to Leafpaw and asked, “Did you think you would have to wait for me to die before you received your name?”

Leafpaw was so taken aback she didn’t reply. She hadn’t really thought about it. Maybe she had assumed that, yes. But being an apprentice medicine cat was different from being an apprentice warrior; Leafpaw could use healing herbs and share tongues with StarClan just as much as the other medicine cats. A pulse of excitement went through her as she guessed what might be coming next.

“A medicine cat receives her name when StarClan decides she deserves it,” Cinderpelt meowed. “Leafpaw, the fact that our warrior ancestors brought you to the Moonpool first shows how highly they regard you.”

“That’s true,” Barkface rumbled.

Littlecloud let out a purr of agreement; Mothwing’s eyes were brilliant and she leaped up to press her muzzle against Leafpaw’s side. In the midst of her excitement, Leafpaw realized it was a good thing Mothwing already had her full name; how could StarClan show their approval of a cat who did not believe in them?

“Come forward.” Cinderpelt beckoned to Leafpaw with her tail.

Leafpaw hardly knew which paw to move first as she stumbled around the Moonpool until she stood in front of her mentor.

Cinderpelt tipped back her head and gazed at Silverpelt.

“I, Cinderpelt, medicine cat of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the way of a medicine cat, and with your help she will serve her Clan for many moons.”

The words were familiar to Leafpaw from the warrior ceremonies she had seen for her Clanmates. Her paws tingled, as if starlight scorched her fur.

“Leafpaw, do you promise to uphold the ways of a medicine cat, to stand apart from rivalry between Clan and Clan, and to protect all cats equally, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do.”

“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your true name as a medicine cat. Leafpaw, from this moment you will be known as Leafpool. StarClan honors your courage and your faith. By finding this place, you have proved this is truly our new home.”

Just as a Clan leader would do at a warrior ceremony, Cinderpelt rested her muzzle on Leafpool’s head. Her head full of stars, Leafpool bent to lick her mentor’s shoulder.

“Leafpool! Leafpool!” Mothwing called, and Barkface and Littlecloud joined in.

Leafpool bowed her head. “Thank you—all of you. My paws were guided by StarClan in everything I have done, and I hope they will continue to guide me for the rest of my life.”

“May StarClan grant that it is so,” murmured Barkface, and the others echoed his prayer.

All except Mothwing, but when Leafpool looked at her, the RiverClan cat’s face was filled with such pride and affection that she knew Mothwing was as pleased for her as any cat. Right then, it didn’t matter a whisker that she didn’t share their beliefs.

As she followed the other cats out of the hollow and down the rocky slope, Leafpool felt so full of energy, so committed all over again to the way of a medicine cat, that she half thought she would be able to fly back to the hollow in the woods if she tried. She let the others go ahead, and padded along with her thoughts full of starlight and herbs and water that tasted of the night sky.

Suddenly she felt something sticky dragging at her legs, and her paws skidded in a slippery, viscous liquid. She looked down; there was nothing but short moorland grass under her paws, but the stench of death rose up around her, and though she knew the slope was clear and dry, she felt as if she were wading through a river of blood, running hot and scarlet from the overflowing, death-scented lake.

Brambleclaw halted at the edge of the lake and gazed across the stream into ShadowClan’s territory. The pine forest on the far side of the stream was a blue-black shadow against the heavy gray sky. No cats were in sight, but the damp wind brought a powerful reek toward him: the old, familiar ShadowClan scent, nearly as strong as it had ever been.