Moonrise

Chapter 13

Leafpaw shifted uneasily in a pool of moonlight and listened to the soft sighing of the wind in the oaks at Fourtrees. She and Cinderpelt were on their way to meet with the other medicine cats at Mothermouth, and already the half-moon was high in the sky.

“They’re late,” Cinderpelt meowed. “We’re wasting moonlight.”

Littlecloud, the ShadowClan medicine cat, settled himself more comfortably in a hollow in the grass. “They’ll be along soon.”

Cinderpelt’s tail-tip twitched. “We need all the time we have at the Moonstone, especially tonight. We have to find out what we should do about the Twolegs.”

Leafpaw tried to curb her own impatience with the RiverClan medicine cats, who should have met them long before now. Perhaps sharing tongues with StarClan wasn’t so important to them, when their own territory hadn’t been invaded by the Twoleg monsters. Everything was quiet now; the Twoleg monsters slept at night, but Leafpaw knew they were still there, squatting on the scarred ground among the trees they hadn’t destroyed yet. The silence in the forest was unnatural, without the small sounds of prey that always seemed louder at night.

Her belly rumbled at the thought of prey. Cinderpelt had given her traveling herbs to quell her appetite before they set out, but they didn’t help her hunger when she couldn’t remember the last time she had been full-fed. All the Clan cats were suffering; lack of food had begun to weaken them so that they couldn’t run as fast and catch what prey there was. With leaf-bare looming ever closer, crisping the leaves and sending them spiraling to the ground in the chill breeze, Leafpaw couldn’t see what help StarClan might give.

To her embarrassment, her belly rumbled again, loud enough for the others to hear. Littlecloud shot her a sympathetic glance.

“Blackstar has sent warriors to fetch rats and crowfood from Carrionplace,” he told Cinderpelt. His eyes darkened.

“We haven’t had any sickness yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

“I hope you remember the herbs and berries I gave you when you were ill,” Cinderpelt meowed.

“I’ve been collecting them. I know I’ll need them soon.”

“And tell your Clan not to touch any crowfood,” Cinderpelt advised. “Fresh rats might be okay, but not carrion.”

Littlecloud sighed. “I’ve tried, but what can I do when Blackstar gives the orders? Most of our cats are too hungry to care what they’re eating.”

Just then Leafpaw caught sight of Mudfur, the RiverClan medicine cat, and his apprentice, Mothwing, climbing the slope from the river. She leaped to her paws, delighted to see her friend again, though she could not suppress a pang of envy that Mothwing looked so well fed, her long golden fur sleek with good health.

“At last!” Cinderpelt growled as the two cats came up. “I was beginning to think a fish must have jumped out of the river and swallowed you.”

“Well, we’re here now.” Mudfur hardly paused for greetings, but led the way around the top of the hollow toward the WindClan border.

Cinderpelt and Littlecloud followed, while Leafpaw and Mothwing brought up the rear, side by side.

“I got into trouble about that fishing lesson,” Leafpaw whispered. “I knew I should not have eaten your prey.”

“Your leader’s got no right!” Mothwing meowed indignantly. “We’re medicine cats.”

“Still, we shouldn’t have done it,” Leafpaw replied.

“Medicine cats have to stick to the warrior code as much as any cat.”

Mothwing just snorted. “I think I’m getting on really well,” she mewed after a moment. “Mudfur taught me the herbs to use for greencough and blackcough, and the best way to get thorns out of pads. He said he’d never seen a cat do it so neatly.”

“That’s great!” Leafpaw purred. She didn’t mind her friend boasting because she knew how insecure Mothwing felt.

Because she was the daughter of a rogue, many of her own Clan thought that she should never have been allowed to train as a medicine cat. Mothwing was desperate to prove them wrong.

As they approached the WindClan border, Leafpaw felt a twinge of nervousness. It was not long since the confrontation with WindClan, and she knew that their warriors would still be hostile. They seemed determined to keep their starvation a secret, even though it was horribly obvious from their scrawny frames and dull eyes. Would they be desperate enough to attack medicine cats if they found them on their territory? She said nothing; Firestar would be furious if she gossiped with Mothwing about that fateful encounter.

None of the medicine cats paused as they crossed the border. They hurried on, their pace set by Cinderpelt’s limping gait. Coming to the top of a gentle rise, Leafpaw found herself looking down on the worst scene yet of Twoleg devastation. The scar on WindClan’s territory was much longer and wider now than when she and Sorreltail had first seen it. A couple of Twoleg monsters squatted there, moonlight glinting off their shiny pelts. If a hill got in their way they just gorged a path through it, leaving earth piled high on either side. Were they going to devour the whole moor?

Shuddering, Leafpaw bounded on behind her mentor. Not far from the WindClan camp, Barkface, the WindClan medicine cat, emerged from behind a gorse bush. Even though Leafpaw had been prepared for him to look hungry, it was a shock to see how thin he was—barely more than a walking skeleton covered by his ragged pelt.

Cinderpelt went up and touched noses with him sympathetically. “StarClan be with you, Barkface,” she mewed.

“And with all my Clan.” Barkface heaved a great sigh.

“Sometimes I think StarClan wants every one of us to join them, and not even a kit left to keep the warrior code alive.”

“Perhaps they will show us what to do when we share dreams at the Moonstone,” Cinderpelt tried to encourage him.

“It’s getting worse for WindClan.” Mothwing’s amber eyes were wide as she murmured the words to Leafpaw. “They’ve been stealing fish from the river again, you know. Hawkfrost caught a couple of them, and chased them off.”

“They have to find prey somewhere.” Leafpaw knew that what the WindClan warriors were doing was wrong, but she couldn’t blame them. Not when the river was full of fish, enough to feed all the Clans. Fleetingly, she realized that Firestar was right—the Twolegs were destroying the forest, but in doing so they were also destroying the invisible boundaries between the Clans as well. Maybe the cats would survive only by joining together after all.

Mothwing paused to scent the air. “Hang on, I can smell rabbit—at least, I think it’s rabbit; it smells funny somehow.

Yes, look, over there!”

She gestured with her tail at a dip in the moorland where a small stream chattered over stones. Lying beside it was a small, brown-furred body.

“It’s dead,” Leafpaw pointed out.

Mothwing shrugged. “So it’s crowfood. I imagine WindClan can’t afford to be too fussy. Hey, Barkface!” she called. “Look what I found.” She bounded down the slope toward the rabbit.

“Stop!” Barkface commanded. “Don’t touch it!”

Mothwing skidded to a halt beside the limp bundle of fur and looked back up the slope. “What’s the matter?”

Barkface padded down to join her, followed by Leafpaw and the other medicine cats. Warily he approached the rabbit and sniffed it. Leafpaw sniffed too, and recognized the harsh tang she had picked up when she and Sorreltail had visited WindClan territory. Her stomach churned and she swallowed to stop herself from gagging. Whatever had happened to this rabbit, it wasn’t fit for food.

“Yes, I thought so,” Barkface murmured, his eyes clouding.

“There’s that scent again…” Facing the other cats, he explained quietly, “Twolegs have done something bad to the rabbits in the territory. They all die. And if cats eat them, they die too. We have lost half our elders and nearly all of our apprentices.”

There was a horrified silence. Compassion lanced through Leafpaw. Tallstar had said nothing of this when he confronted Firestar; the proud WindClan leader would rather let other Clans think his cats could not catch prey in their territory, than that their own fresh-kill was killing them, one by one.

“And you couldn’t help them?” Mudfur asked.

“Do you think I didn’t try?” Barkface sounded desperate.

“I gave them yarrow to make them sick, just as we do for deathberries. Two of the strongest pulled through, but most of them died.” His claws tore up the grass in front of him; his eyes burned with grief and frustration. “What hope is there for us when even our prey can kill us?”

Cinderpelt limped up to him and pressed her muzzle against his side. “Let’s go on,” she murmured. “We’ll ask StarClan for guidance about this as well as everything else.”

“Shouldn’t we bury the rabbit?” Leafpaw suggested as the cats began to climb the slope again. “In case some other cat finds it?”

Barkface shook his head. “There’s no point. No WindClan cat would touch it now.” His lips stretched in a wry snarl. “We know better than to trust fresh-kill from inside our own borders.” Head bowed, tail drooping, he plodded on across the moor toward Highstones.

Leafpaw blinked in the silver light from the Moonstone, letting it soothe her until she felt like a fish sinking into deep water. Here in the cavern, far below Highstones, it was easy to believe that StarClan ruled everything, and the troubles of the world above were too far away to matter. But medicine cats came to the Moonstone only so that they could learn the wisdom of StarClan and take it back to help their Clans. In these dark days, they needed that wisdom more than ever.

The other medicine cats were lying with her around the stone. Mothwing was next to her; the RiverClan cat’s eyes were wide with wonder as she gazed at the shimmering crys-tal surface. Trying to focus her thoughts, Leafpaw pushed away the questions that nagged her about Mothwing and her aggressive brother, Hawkfrost. Mothwing had a right to be here; StarClan themselves had approved her with a moth’s wing left at the entrance to Mudfur’s den before she had finally been accepted as a medicine cat apprentice.

With a quick plea to StarClan for guidance, Leafpaw closed her eyes and pressed her nose against the stone. Cold instantly seized her like a claw, the hard surface of the cave floor vanished from beneath her, and she felt as though she were floating in darkness.

Squirrelpaw! Squirrelpaw, can you hear me? she called silently.

She was desperate to make sure that her sister was still alive and safe, and more than that: If the chosen cats had discovered the answer to the trouble that had come upon the forest, then seeking out Squirrelpaw might give her some hope that she could share with the others.

But tonight something seemed to be blocking her thoughts. The silence was broken by the sound of rushing water, loud as thunder, and then the darkness shifted to show her a waterfall, crashing endlessly down into a pool below.

Before Leafpaw could properly understand what she was seeing, clouds swirled over it. Out of them came a terrible snarling, and she caught a glimpse of sharp fangs. She sensed the presence of warrior ancestors and reached out for the comforting presence of StarClan. But she caught only a flickering vision of lean, prowling cats, their fur streaked with mud and blood. Their eyes glared with desperation, as if they stared at some terrible sight that was hidden from Leafpaw.

She thought she cried out to them, but they did not answer, and she was not even sure that they were aware of her.

A wind howled around her, sweeping all the visions away, and Leafpaw woke up with a jolt. She blinked in confusion, staring around the cavern that was dark now except for the faint glitter of Silverpelt. In the dim light she could just make out a cat crouched beside her, a beautiful tortoiseshell with a white chest and white paws. The sweet scent of herbs clung about her fur.

For a heartbeat Leafpaw mistook the cat for Sorreltail, until she remembered that her friend was back in the ThunderClan camp. And where were Mothwing and the medicine cats? Leafpaw realized that except for herself and the strange tortoiseshell, the cavern was empty.

The tortoiseshell cat opened her eyes and turned to blink at Leafpaw. “Greetings,” she mewed softly. “Do not be anxious for your sister or your Clan. A time of great trouble has come, but the Clans are strong and have the courage to meet it.”

Leafpaw froze. She had woken up in another dream. Her eyes widened as she realized who the tortoiseshell cat must be.

She had heard many stories of the medicine cat who had befriended her father when he first came to ThunderClan, and guided him in dreams on his path to becoming leader.

“Are you… are you Spottedleaf?” she meowed.

The tortoiseshell cat bowed her head. “I am. I see that Firestar has told you about me.”

“Yes.” Leafpaw stared curiously at the she-cat. “He told me how much you helped him.”

“I loved him as well as any cat,” Spottedleaf purred. “Maybe even more than I should have done, as a medicine cat. If StarClan had not chosen me to walk their path, things might have been different.” Her eyes narrowed with affection. “I never had kits of my own, Leafpaw, but I cannot say how happy it makes me that Firestar’s daughter will be following the path of a medicine cat. I know that StarClan has great things in store for you.”

Leafpaw swallowed. “May I ask you something?” she meowed hesitantly.

“Of course.”

“Can you see Squirrelpaw? Is she all right?”

There was a long pause. “I cannot see her,” Spottedleaf replied at last, “but I know where she is. She is safe, and on her way home to you.”

“Why can’t you see her, if you know where she is?”

Leafpaw challenged.

Spottedleaf’s gaze shone with gentleness and compassion.

“Squirrelpaw is in the paws of different warrior ancestors now.”

“What do you mean?” Leafpaw remembered the fearsome, blood-streaked cats she had sensed when she tried to make contact with Squirrelpaw. In her dream, her eyes flew wide and she sprang to her paws. “Whose warrior ancestors are these? There can’t be more than one StarClan!”

Spottedleaf laughed softly. “The world is wide, dear young one. There are other cats who are guided by other spirits.

There is always more to learn.”

Leafpaw’s head whirled. She stammered, “I thought—”

“StarClan does not control the wind or the rain, do they?”

Spottedleaf prompted gently. “They do not command the sun to rise or the moon to wax and wane. Do not fear, little one,” she went on. “From now on, wherever you walk, I will walk with you…”

Her voice began to fade; her fur paled and her shape seemed to melt into the darkness. For a heartbeat longer, Leafpaw could see her white front shining like a star and her glowing eyes. Then she was blinking awake, emerging from her dream into the cavern where Mothwing and the medicine cats were stirring around her.

Is it true? she wondered, too dazed to speak out loud. Are Squirrelpaw and the others in the paws of another Clan? And are there really powers other than StarClan’s—and does that mean that StarClan won’t be able to save the forest after all?

As she staggered to her paws, she could still catch a trace of Spottedleaf’s sweet scent.