Эрин Хантер - Moth Flight’s Vision

“You don’t know how dumb I can be.”

Micah padded around her, impatiently. “You’re not dumb.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Yes, I do!” Micah stopped and stared at her. “I’ve never met a cat who goes off chasing moths or disappears into strange tunnels in the middle of the night or tells me that she’s going to learn how to heal and read omens.” He paused, his gaze sparkling so intensely that her heart seemed to miss a beat.

“You’re wonderful!”

Moth Flight shifted her paws nervously. Would he think she was so wonderful when she told him about his destiny? “You’re part of it,” she blurted.

Micah stiffened. “Part of what?”

“You’re meant to be a medicine cat too.”

“On the farm?” He tipped his head, puzzled.

“No!” Moth Flight paced across the stone and looked over the trees to the distant moor, curving like a cat’s spine against the glittering sky. “You’re to be SkyClan’s medicine cat.”

“That’s your Clan, right?” Micah stopped beside her.

“No.” Moth Flight steadied her breath. “I’m from WindClan.

SkyClan is Clear Sky’s group. They live in the forest, not on the moor.” She felt Micah shift uneasily beside her.

“So I’ll live there , and not with you?”

Her heart lifted. He hadn’t said no. She turned sharply and faced him. “Do you mean you’ll do it? Become a medicine cat for the Clans?”

Micah returned her gaze, but she could read nothing in his eyes. “The leader of SkyClan,” he began. “He’s a tom, right?

Fierce. He likes bossing other cats around.”

Moth Flight’s mouth grew dry as he went on.

“Is he suspicious of other cats? And proud? Gray with blue eyes?”

Moth Flight backed away, startled. He was describing Clear Sky exactly. “How do you know?”

“I’ve dreamed of him,” he murmured. “I dream I’m bringing him catmint to help a sick kit.”

“Catmint?” Moth Flight pricked her ears.

“It’s an herb that grows behind the barn. It looks a bit like nettles but the leaves are smaller and they don’t sting. You’ll know if you ever see some. It smells great. And it helps coughs.” Micah whisked his tail impatiently. “I keep having the same dream. The kit’s always sick and the gray tom’s ordering me to hurry with the catmint.” He blinked at her. “But I can see now—it wasn’t a dream! None of my dreams have been dreams.

I’ve been seeing my destiny!” His fur rippled with surprise. He lifted his gaze toward the moor.

Moth Flight shifted her paws nervously. He’d just discovered that the life he’d planned was not the life that had been planned for him. “Do you mind?”

“Why should I mind?” Micah shrugged. “It’s pointless to mind your own destiny. You just have to face it.”

Moth Flight wondered how he could be so calm. Fear hollowed her belly as she tried to imagine the moons that lay head of her. “Aren’t you scared?”

“No,” he meowed softly. “One path is as good as another.

It’s not knowing which one to take that’s scary. Now that I know where I’m meant to be going, there’s nothing to fear.” He looked at her. “For either of us.”

“Do you promise?” Her mew quavered.

“I promise.” His green gaze was steady. Starlight sparkled in its depths.

Moth Flight reached out her muzzle and touched his. Her heart slowed as his nose brushed her cheek. She felt soothed by his stillness, aware of the moonlight washing their pelts.

“Wake up.”

Moth Flight felt a muzzle nudging her shoulder. She lifted her head, blinking at the bright sunshine. Where am I? Confused for a moment, she saw Micah, standing beside her on the smooth, wide rock at the foot of Highstones.

Memories flooded her. The night before! The spirit-cats!

The moonlit stone!

Heart leaping, she scrambled to her paws. “We have to get back and tell Wind Runner!” They’d talked until dawn had crept over the moortop, and then slept. Now the sun was sinking behind them. “Come on!”

“There’s no hurry. We can eat first.” Micah jumped off the rock and sniffed for prey underneath.

“There isn’t time. It’s full moon tonight. We have to get back and tell her before the Gathering. Then she can let the others know.” Moth Flight leaped from the rock and headed across the stony ground, toward the fields. If she could convince

Wind Runner that the Clans needed to have medicine cats, then Wind Runner could explain everything to the other leaders.

They might not believe me, but they’ll believe the WindClan leader.

She heard Micah’s paw steps hurry after her. “What’s the Gathering ?”

“The Clans meet every full moon to share tongues,” Moth

Flight explained quickly, her eyes fixed on the meadow ahead.

“They swap information about dangers, like Twolegs or dogs, and how the prey’s running. It helps keep the peace.”

“Do the Clans fight ?” Micah sounded surprised.

“They did once,” Moth Flight told him. “Now we meet and share so that we’ll never fight again.”

She quickened her pace. The moor looked a long way off.

They’d be lucky to get there before dusk.

“We’ll travel faster on full bellies,” Micah scanned the land around them as stones gave way to grass beneath their paws.

Moth Flight kept her gaze firmly ahead. “If you see prey as we travel, then catch it. But I’m not stopping.”

Evening was flooding the valley by the time they neared the steep hill that climbed to the moor. Micah had caught a shrew he’d spotted as they leaped a ditch. He’d killed it and they’d quickly shared it between them. It hadn’t stopped Moth Flight’s hunger. Her belly was rumbling as she caught sight of the Thunderpath, but she ignored it. She must concentrate on crossing. The wide strip of black stone cut across their trail and Moth Flight stopped at the edge. Her ear fur tingled, picking up the distant roar of a monster. Stale monster scent soured her tongue.

“Come on.” Micah hurried onto the flat stone. He stopped in the middle and turned as she hung back on the verge. She remembered the last time she was here. Fear wormed in her belly. She’d nearly got Gorse Fur killed. What if he’d died? I was so rabbit-brained! Had Wind Runner forgiven her?

You’re a danger to your Clan.

Moth Flight stared at the Thunderpath, her mouth suddenly dry. Spotted Fur had promised everything would be fine by the morning. That had been two days ago. Would it really be fine?

It has to be! I’m going to be a medicine cat. She forced herself to remember Morning Whisker’s words. If she’s strict, it’s because she worries about you, not because she thinks you’re useless. A spirit-cat couldn’t be wrong, could she?

“Moth Flight!” Micah’s yowl made her jump. She blinked, focusing on him. The roaring of the monster was louder. Its silhouette loomed on the horizon. Glaring eyes blazed through the twilight, blanching Micah’s yellow pelt.

I’m not risking another cat’s life!

Moth Flight pelted forward, whisking past Micah. “Come on!” She glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see him hare after her as she made for the far side of the Thunderpath. She skidded to a halt, grass snagging between her claws. Micah slowed beside her. Foul wind tugged her fur as the monster roared past, honking like a goose.

“That was close!” Micah panted.