Эрин Хантер - Moth Flight’s Vision

Micah followed her gaze and his eyes widened. “It’s beautiful! Is that the moth you dreamed about?”

“Yes!” Joy sparked beneath Moth Flight’s pelt. She hadn’t been sure if the moth was real, or just a trick of her imagination.

But Micah could see it too!

Micah purred. “So you know what it’s like when your dreams suddenly show up while you’re awake?” His green eyes shone as they met hers.

Before she could answer, the moth took off again, and began to weave once more among the trees. Moth Flight followed.

“Where do these woods lead?” she asked as Micah fell in beside her.

“They open onto a slope where a track leads past another Twoleg farm,” Micah told her.

Moth Flight stiffened. “More dogs?”

Micah’s pelt brushed hers as he trotted beside her. “Don’t worry,” he purred. “I can handle dogs.”

The moth avoided the Twoleg farm, much to Moth Flight’s relief. As she and Micah emerged from the woods, it veered deeper into the valley. Overhead, the clouds were clearing and the drizzle eased. By sunhigh, the sky showed patches of blue, and by late afternoon, the sun shone in a cloudless, blue sky.

A chilly breeze whisked around Moth Flight and, despite the sun burning her pelt, she began to feel cold. They hadn’t eaten all day, but Moth Flight was frightened to stop and hunt in case they lost sight of the moth. Her belly rumbled and she fluffed out her fur to keep warm. As if sensing her discomfort, Micah padded closer and they shared each other’s warmth as they followed the moth.

It led them over field after field and, following the setting sun, headed closer to Highstones.

Weariness dragged at Moth Flight’s paws as they padded into the shadow of the great peaks. As the sun disappeared behind them, Moth Flight blinked, trying to adjust from bright sunshine to shade. The grass was becoming coarser beneath her paws. As they approached the foot of Highstones, it gave way to bare, rocky soil dotted with patches of heather. The land sloped steeply ahead of them and the moth lifted higher, swooping toward the sheer cliffs above.

Micah halted and shook out his pelt. “We can’t keep following it without rest.”

Moth Flight glanced back at him. “But we have to! What if we lose it?”

Micah climbed onto a smooth, wide rock and sat down. His pale pelt looked colorless in the dusky gloom. “It’ll come back in the morning. It’s come back before.”

Moth Flight’s hackles lifted. “We can’t stop now !”

Micah looked toward the moth. It was fluttering against the cliff face. “How are we going to follow it up there? We don’t have wings.”

“We’ll find a path.” Moth Flight scanned the sheer rock anxiously, looking for ledges and tracks they could follow. Her heart sank as she saw nothing but the steep face of Highstones.

“There must be a way.”

The moth’s wings were hardly visible against the shadowed stone. Moth Flight had to squint to make them out. “It’s stopped moving!” Her pelt rippled with surprise as she realized it had settled. Was it tired too?

Micah jumped from his rock and followed her gaze. His breath billowed in the chilly evening air. “Is that a hole in the cliff face?” he murmured.

Moth Flight narrowed her eyes. Blackness surrounded the moth, as though it had settled on the lip of a gaping mouth. The opening was square, with sharp corners like the holes in Twoleg nests. Excitement fizzed beneath her fur. “It’s an entrance!”

“An entrance to what?” Micah sounded wary.

“I don’t know, but this must be what it wants to show me!”

Moth Flight scrambled quickly up the slope, loose stones cracking beneath her paws. As she neared the entrance, the moth lifted once more into the air and began to spiral upward.

“Wait!” Moth Flight called to it, her belly tightening. “Aren’t you going to show me what’s inside?”

But the moth kept circling upward until Moth Flight saw it lift above Highstones, where the purple sky was streaked orange by the setting sun. Moth Flight strained to see the moth as it flitted higher until it was no more than a speck against the evening sky. Then it disappeared. She curled her claws against the stony ground, her heart aching. “Can you see it?” she called desperately to Micah.

“It’s gone.” Stones rattled behind her as Micah climbed the slope.

“It can’t be!” Moth Flight stared at him as he reached her, bereft.

He smoothed his tail across her spine. “It’s shown you what it wanted to show you,” he murmured gently. “You don’t need it anymore.”

Slowly Moth Flight turned her gaze toward the gaping mouth in the cliff. “I think I have to go in there.” Dread hollowed her belly. She remembered the choking fear she felt in the moorland tunnels. “I don’t like the dark,” she whispered shakily.

“I’ll be with you,” Micah promised.

Moth Flight shook her head. “You dreamed of me ,” she reminded him. “You didn’t dream of moths. I must go alone.”

“Why?” Micah blinked at her.

Moth Flight felt her paws trembling. “I’m not sure, I just know I must.” Certainty sat in her belly like hunger.

Micah’s ear twitched. “Okay,” he meowed briskly. “But you’re not going in there until you’ve had something to eat.”

Moth Flight dipped her head, grateful to have him with her.

She was starving. Perhaps that was why her paws were trembling so much. As he turned, she followed him down the slope.

“I’m sure I smelled mouse dung around here.” Micah began sniffing around the edge of the smooth, wide rock he’d stopped on. His ears pricked. “This is going to be easy.” As he spoke, a small shape darted from beneath the rock and raced across the stony ground. Mouse! Micah leaped, landing on it before it had run a tail-length. He snapped its neck and Moth Flight smelled the warm scent of blood.

Her mouth watered and she began to scan the slope, looking for her own prey.

“You eat this one.” Micah dropped the mouse at her paws.

“I can catch my own,” Moth Flight protested.

“I know,” Micah agreed. “But not now. Save your strength for whatever’s inside that cave.”

As he padded quietly away, his nose twitching, Moth Flight glanced up at the gaping mouth in the cliff face. She swallowed.

The moth wouldn’t have led her anywhere dangerous, surely?

She pushed the thought away. I’m meant to do this, she told herself, no matter what. Crouching, she ate Micah’s mouse, her belly growling for more as she finished. She was pleased to see Micah heading back with two more mice swinging from his jaws. He glanced at the bloodstained rock where her meal had been and dropped his fresh catch on the space. “You were hungry,” he purred. He pushed one of the mice toward her and hooked the other toward himself.

“Are you sure?” Moth Flight felt a prick of guilt. He’d walked just as far as she had today. He must be starving too.

“I can catch more while you’re exploring your cave.” He took a mouthful, his whiskers twitching with pleasure.

“You’ll wait for me?” she asked tentatively. The sky was dark now. Stars were showing in the blackness. The chilly wind had grown colder. Frost was beginning to sparkle on the rocks and the stone beneath her pads was so cold that it made her paws ache.

“Of course I’ll wait for you!” He looked up from his mouse sharply. “Why would I leave?”

She shrugged. “It’s cold. I thought you might want to find shelter.”