Эрин Хантер - Moth Flight’s Vision

“I understand.” Pebble Heart’s gaze flickered over her belly.

Had he noticed that her days of resting—eating prey, which other cats had caught—had begun to show in her swollen flanks? Perhaps it was time she pulled herself together and went back to her Clan. Her grief had lost the raw power that had silenced her for days at a time, but she still woke trembling in the night, her longing for Micah so strong that her heart roared in her ears.

“I’m not going to stop being a medicine cat,” she reassured him.

“I didn’t think you would.” He began to straighten the nettle stems.

“The other medicine cats know that, don’t they?”

“Of course.” He plucked a stringy old grass stem from the edge of the ditch and threaded it under the bundle he’d made.

“They told me to tell you not to worry about missing the meeting. They understood.”

“Did StarClan visit with you?” Moth Flight had been avoiding the question since Pebble Heart returned at dawn. Had

Micah been there? She didn’t want to know. If he had, having missed him would break her heart all over again. If he hadn’t, she’d worry that he would never be part of their ranks. But she had to know if StarClan had a message for her.

“Half Moon came alone,” Pebble Heart told her. “She only stayed long enough to tell us to look after you.”

Moth Flight blinked at him. Hadn’t she said anything about Micah? “Was that all?”

“Yes.” Pebble Heart wrapped the grass stem around the bundle. “Acorn Fur was disappointed. She’d been expecting to see her ancestors.”

Moth Flight stiffened, irritation prickling beneath her pelt.

“ Acorn Fur was there?”

Pebble Heart threaded the grass around the stems again, pulling them tightly together. “She’s SkyClan’s medicine cat now.”

“She’s a spy!” Moth Flight snapped. “Clear Sky told her to watch Micah because he didn’t trust him.”

“That might be true.” Pebble Heart looked up. “But Micah taught her a lot. She knows more about healing than any other SkyClan cat. And she likes it. Besides—” He paused, avoiding her gaze. “I’ve had dreams about her healing her Clanmates.”

“You knew she’d become their medicine cat?” Outrage flared in Moth Flight’s belly. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I never knew, ” Pebble Heart corrected her. “I have lots of dreams. They don’t all turn out to be visions.” He met her gaze steadily. “Seeing Acorn Fur giving herbs to sick cats isn’t the same as knowing Micah would die. Even if I’d guessed he would die, would you really have wanted to know?”

“I could have—”

He cut her off. “What? Changed his destiny? Loved him more?”

Moth Flight stared at him, wordless. If she had known, would she have done anything differently? Her time with Micah had been wonderful. Would she really have wanted the shadow of his death looming over those perfect days?

Pebble Heart’s mew softened. “I was worried you didn’t come to the Moonstone because you blamed StarClan for letting him die.”

She blinked at him. “I did blame them,” she admitted. “But that’s not why I didn’t go.”

“Do you still blame them?”

Moth Flight shook her head. “Even if they’d known his destiny, they might have been powerless to change it. And you’re right: What would I have done if I’d known?”

As she spoke, Pebble Heart’s gaze flicked past her shoulder.

She stiffened as she saw his hackles rise. Opening her mouth, she tasted the air. Cat scents were billowing behind her.

She turned, flattening her ears.

Two cats padded from among the trees.

“Moth Flight!” A plump black-and-white farm cat called out to her.

The brown tom at her side swished his tail. “We thought we’d never find you!”

“Cow!” Moth Flight hurried toward them, her heart quickening with delight. “Mouse!”

Cow’s gaze was rimmed with sadness. “We heard about Micah.”

Mouse’s tail drooped. “Did he suffer?”

Moth Flight stopped in her tracks, her mew catching in her throat as she remembered Micah’s last moments. “Not for long,” she managed to mew.

Cow weaved around her, her soft pelt brushing warmly against Moth Flight’s fur.

Mouse dipped his head to Pebble Heart. “I hope you don’t mind us coming,” he meowed. “We crossed the moor, looking for Micah. A cat named Gorse Fur told us about the accident.”

Cow held Moth Flight’s gaze, her eyes brimming with sadness. “He said you were with him at the end.”

Moth Flight wondered for a moment if they blamed her for taking Micah away. But Cow wrapped her tail over Moth

Flight’s spine, her gaze warm with sympathy. “It must have been hard for you.”

“At least I was with him.” Her throat tightened as she remembered. She swallowed back grief, noticing their dusty pelts. “You must be tired. It’s a long journey from the farm.”

Pebble Heart padded forward. “Come back to the camp and rest.” He glanced at the bunch of stems. “I need to get these back before they start to rot.”

Cow stared at the sodden bundle. “Why are you gathering wet nettles?”

Mouse glanced around the shadowy pine forest, puzzled.

“Isn’t there any prey here?”

“There’s plenty,” Pebble Heart purred. “I’m collecting nettles in case one of my Clanmates gets sick.”

Cow blinked. “Will stinging them help?”

Moth Flight’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “They don’t sting, now that we’ve soaked them. They’ll help soothe wounds and, if you eat them, they ease aching bones.”

“You seem a lot smarter than when we first met.” Cow winked at Pebble Heart. “She tried to cross a field while the farm dog was herding sheep.”

Moth Flight purred, remembering. “Micah saved me.”

Cow caught her eye. “You must miss him.”

“I do,” she answered huskily. “We were mates.”

Cow pressed her muzzle to Moth Flight’s cheek.

Pebble Heart flicked his tail toward brambles showing among the pines. “The camp’s not far.” He picked up one end of the grass stem between his teeth and began to drag the nettle bundle across the forest floor. Mouse hurried to grab the trailing end.

Cow fell in beside Moth Flight. “How long since Micah died?”

“A moon,” Moth Flight told her softly.

They walked on, sharing their grief in silence.

As they neared the camp, Raven Pelt padded from the entrance, tasting the air. His gaze flashed toward them, narrowing as he saw Mouse and Cow.

Moth Flight hurried to meet him. “They’re friends,” she explained. “They lived on the same farm as Micah.”

Tall Shadow slid out of camp, her nose twitching. “Do we have visitors?”

Cow dipped her head to the ShadowClan leader. “We came to see Moth Flight.”

“Come in and share some prey,” Tall Shadow told her. “It’s running well at the moment. There’s more than we can eat.”

She led Cow into camp, the scent of fresh-kill heavy in the air. Moth Flight and Raven Pelt followed at her heels, while Mouse and Pebble Heart dragged the nettles after them.

Three kits looked up from the long grass where Juniper

Branch was resting.

The biggest, a black tom with an orange tail, blinked at them. “Look, Dusk Nose!” He nudged the she-kit beside him.

“Visitors!” He dashed across the clearing.

Dusk Nose, a black-and-orange tortoiseshell, followed.

“Who are you?” she called to Cow.

“Are you a Clan cat?” Another tom-kit hurried after them, his dappled brown pelt perfectly camouflaged against the shady forest floor.

Moth Flight purred. “This is Cow,” she explained. “She and Mouse were friends of Micah.”