Moth Flight’s Vision

Chapter 26

Moth Flight struggled for breath as she walked beside Pebble Heart.

“Let’s slow down,” he urged.

She shook her head. “I want to get home.” She padded from the pines and stopped beside the Thunderpath. The stone trail was deserted, but the stale stench of monsters made Moth Flight feel sick. “I’ve become so weak!”

“I think it’s because you’re carrying kits.” Pebble Heart paused on the grass verge. “Juniper Branch could hardly cross the clearing without panting by the end.”

“But I’ve another moon to go!” Moth Flight hurried onto the smooth stone, not wanting to be reminded of the queen’s long and painful kitting.

Pebble Heart followed her, tactfully changing the subject.

“Your Clanmates will have missed you.”

“Do you think?” She turned as she reached the far side.

Would they feel she’d been disloyal by staying away for so long?

“They’ll be glad you’re home.” Pebble Heart bounded up the short, steep slope onto the moorside.

Moth Flight struggled after him, stopping at the top to catch her breath. She gazed across the heather. Its blossom had turned the moorside purple. Wind swept around her, lifting her fur. She closed her eyes, relishing the sensation. The dank pines had shielded her for too long. “I should have come home earlier.”

“You waited until you were ready.” Pebble Heart headed upslope.

Moth Flight followed, surprised by the silkiness of the grass beneath her paws. One day her kits would run here. Excitement flickered in her chest. Was she really going to be a mother? To Micah’s kits! Joy swamped her. Grief would no longer be her only link to him. Soon she’d have his kits; she’d watch them grow. She’d tell them about their brave and handsome father. He would live on through them.

I’ll have to raise them alone. The idea daunted her, but the closer she got to home, the more she felt she would be okay.

Wind Runner always knows what to do. She glanced at Pebble Heart, his gray pelt ruffled by the breeze. “Thank you for being so kind to me.”

He slowed to let her catch up. “I didn’t do anything really.”

“Yes, you did.” She remembered all the times he’d brought her prey; how often she’d woken to find water-soaked moss on the side of her nest; how gently he’d encouraged her to help gather herbs and mix poultices. Thanks to him, she’d lost none of her skills; indeed, he’d taught her so much. He was such a wise, serious cat—a dreamer in his own way, but not as easily distracted as she was. She admired him and had grown fond of him. He was almost like a Clanmate.

As her thoughts drifted, movement caught her eye. She looked down the grassy slope and saw cats stalking along the SkyClan border. Their pelts showed among the trees, moving slowly through the ferns. She halted, narrowing her gaze as she recognized Thorn, Birch, and Nettle. “I wonder what they’re doing?” she called to Pebble Heart.

Pebble Heart followed her gaze. The three cats had stopped.

Birch was marking a tree with his scent. “It’s a border patrol.”

Moth Flight blinked at him. “A what?”

“Clear Sky’s given orders that his borders are to be checked daily and fresh markings left.”

Anger flared in Moth Flight’s belly. “Does he still insist on borders?” She could hardly believe any cat could be so rabbit-brained.

“He says cats belong in their own territory,” Pebble Heart murmured.

“So Micah died for nothing!” Moth Flight flattened her ears.

“Doesn’t he realize that Micah would never have died if he hadn’t been so bothered about his borders?”

Pebble Heart avoided her gaze. “He says Micah would never have died if you hadn’t crossed the border with him.”

Moth Flight trembled with fury. “How dare he?”

“Don’t let it upset you,” Pebble Heart begged. “If Clear Sky wants to fuss about his borders, then let him.” His gaze slid past her.

She jerked her muzzle around, following it, and saw Willow

Tail and Eagle Feather watching the SkyClan patrol from a distant, rocky outcrop. “Don’t they have anything better to do?” she snapped. “They should be feeding their Clan, not watching borders!” She broke into a trot, heading for the hollow.

Pebble Heart hurried after her. “Let Wind Runner worry about it,” he told her. “You’re a medicine cat, not a hunter.

Borders aren’t your problem.”

As he spoke, a gray-and-white pelt showed against the heather upslope.

Moth Flight recognized it at once. “Swift Minnow!” The sight of her Clanmate distracted her from her anger.

Swift Minnow squinted at them, lifting her tail suddenly and breaking into a run. “Moth Flight! Is that you?” She sprinted toward them, meowing happily, and skidded to a halt a tail-length away. She stared, her eyes rounding as she saw Moth

Flight’s swollen flanks. “You’re expecting kits!” Joy lit up her gaze. “Are they Micah’s?”

“Yes,” Moth Flight purred.

“We were beginning to think you were never coming home.”

Swift Minnow cast an anxious glance toward the hollow.

“I needed time to grieve,” Moth Flight explained.

The heather rustled behind Swift Minnow, as Slate padded out. She pricked her ears as she saw Moth Flight. “You’re back!”

Moth Flight felt a rush of happiness. The grieving queen looked well, her eyes brighter than they’d been in moons.

“How’s White Tail?” she called. “Have Silver Stripe and Black

Ear been behaving themselves?”

“They’re all fine!” Slate hurried toward them. “You’d hardly recognize them! They’ve grown so much.” She slowed, her ears pricking. “You’re expecting!”

Swift Minnow plucked at the grass excitedly. “They’re

Micah’s kits!” she told her friend.

Slate wove around Moth Flight purring happily. “Have you come home for good?”

“I want my kits to grow up on the moor,” Moth Flight told her.

“Hurry up!” Swift Minnow ducked into the heather. “Let’s get back to camp!”

Moth Flight noticed Pebble Heart hesitate.

“I’ll go home, now that I know you’re safe,” he meowed shyly.

“Are you sure?” Moth Flight gazed at him fondly.

“Yeah.” He flicked his tail and began to head downslope.

“Take care. Send for me when the kits come!”

“Bye, Pebble Heart!” Slate was nudging Moth Flight toward the heather. “Wait until Gorse Fur sees you! He’s been so worried.”

Moth Flight followed Swift Minnow’s trail, zigzagging between the bushes until she emerged onto the stretch of grass outside the camp entrance.

As the scents of home swept over her, her pelt rippled with pleasure.

Swift Minnow had already disappeared inside and Moth

Flight followed, her heart beating loudly in her chest.

“Moth Flight!” Dust Muzzle was the first to come bounding across the tussocky clearing. Spotted Fur and Fern Leaf hurried after him, their eyes bright.

They scrambled to a halt in front of her, staring at her belly.

“I’m expecting Micah’s kits.” She glanced anxiously at Spotted Fur. Was he still jealous?

Spotted Fur blinked at her, then purred. “Congratulations!”

Relief washed over her.

Fern Leaf purred and murmured “How exciting!” as Dust

Muzzle pressed his nose to her cheek. “I’m glad you’re home.”

Gorse Fur was crossing the clearing toward them, Rocky lumbering behind.

Moth Flight felt a flicker of worry as she saw the old cat.

“Are you better?” she called. She should have been here, taking care of him.

“I’m as healthy as a fox,” he rumbled.

Gorse Fur stopped beside her. “I knew you couldn’t stay in that dark old forest forever.” He weaved around her while

Rocky stared at her proudly.

“I’m glad you’re back,” the old tom rumbled. “Reed Tail won’t let me have catmint.”

Moth Flight stiffened. Had Rocky been exaggerating? Was he still sick? “Do you need some?”

Rocky glanced at his paws. “I don’t need it, but sometimes I get a sore throat and a little catmint always makes me feel better.”

Reed Tail was stalking toward them, his ears pricked. “The only reason you get a sore throat is from snoring so loudly!” He padded past the old tom and greeted Moth Flight with a nod.

“Thank StarClan you’re back. I’m run off my paws trying to find herbs, and if Silver Stripe ever makes it through a day without getting a scratch or a graze, I’ll be amazed.”

Moth Flight’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “Where are the kits?” She gasped as she saw three young cats bounding toward her. She recognized their pelts, but they were so big!

“Silver Stripe! Black Ear!” They looked old enough to hunt!

“White Tail, you’ve grown so handsome!” The gray-and-white kit had his father’s broad shoulders and Slate’s soft amber gaze.

“Black Ear’s handsome too!” Silver Stripe told her proudly.

“Of course he is!” Moth Flight looked admiringly at Black

Ear before purring at Silver Stripe. “And you’re as beautiful as your mother.”

“Who cares if I’m beautiful?” Silver Stripe stuck her nose in the air. “Beauty doesn’t help with hunting, and I’m going to be the best hunter in WindClan.”

“I can believe it.” Moth Flight nosed her way through her Clanmates and headed across the clearing. “How’s my den? I hope no rain’s gotten in. My herbs should be good and dry by now. Although I need to pick fresh ones. Cloud Spots says fresh herbs work better.”

Reed Tail fell in beside her. “I’ve been using your den,” he confessed. “It seemed best, since I was being medicine cat while you were away.”

Moth Flight caught his eye, gratitude flooding her. “Thank you so much,” she mewed earnestly. “I’m sorry I left you responsible for everything. I just couldn’t face…” Her mew trailed away as a sudden wave of grief slapped against her like cold water. The familiar faces and scents had carried her back to a time before Micah had died. She swallowed.

Reed Tail shot her a look. “You’ll feel at home again in no time,” he promised.

“Yes,” she answered huskily. She stopped outside her den, her Clanmates watching from beyond the tussocks. They looked so pleased to see her. Her heart swelled with thanks. Then she spotted two pairs of eyes staring from the shadows of Jagged Peak’s den. Her fur prickled anxiously. Holly and Jagged Peak hadn’t wanted her to leave. She’d stayed away for a whole moon. Taking a deep breath, she headed toward them.

Jagged Peak ducked outside first, his ears twitching.

Holly followed, her gaze cool. “A grieving cat should stay with her Clan,” she muttered.

Jagged Peak glanced at Moth Flight’s belly. “Are you carrying his kits?”

“Micah’s?” Moth Flight narrowed her eyes. “Yes. And I’m proud of it.”

“He was a SkyClan cat,” Jagged Peak grunted.

Moth Flight glared at him. “He was a farm cat too! Does that make it better or worse?”

“Jagged Peak!” Storm Pelt charged across the clearing. He stopped in front of his father and mother and blinked at them.

“You should be happy she’s come home.”

Holly sniffed. “Why did she bother? She’s been away from WindClan so long, she doesn’t even smell like a WindClan cat anymore.”

Dew Nose slid from the den and stopped beside her brother.

“Moth Flight was born WindClan and she’ll always be

WindClan.”

Storm Pelt lifted his chin. “She’s the one who found the Moonstone. Aren’t you proud she’s our Clanmate?”

“Will her kits be our Clanmates too?” Holly muttered. “Even though they carry SkyClan blood?”

“And farm-cat blood,” Jagged Peak added.

Storm Pelt faced his mother, pelt prickling. “You weren’t born WindClan!” His gaze flashed toward his father. “And you were a mountain cat who left his tribe.”

Moth Flight shifted her paws uncomfortably. She didn’t want to cause an argument between kin.

Holly eyed her kits doubtfully. “How do we know she won’t leave again?”

“I won’t,” Moth Flight promised.

“Moth Flight!” Her mother’s mew rang across the clearing.

She turned to see the WindClan leader bounding toward her.

Wind Runner skidded to a halt and thrust her muzzle against

Moth Flight’s chin. “You’re home at last!” A sigh shuddered through her. She drew back, her gaze darkening. “Did you travel here by yourself? I hope you were careful near the SkyClan border. They’ve been raiding the moor for rabbits again. Of course, Clear Sky denies it but—” She stopped and stared at Moth Flight. “You’re expecting kits!”

Moth Flight sat down, letting her belly bulge. “They’re due in a moon.”

“Micah’s?” Wind Runner tipped her head.

“Of course.” Moth Flight purred. Did her mother think they could be anyone else’s?

“Let’s hope they take after you.” Wind Runner lowered her voice. “Micah was a little too sure of himself.”

Moth Flight met her mother’s gaze calmly. “And you’re not, I suppose.”

Wind Runner’s eyes widened with surprise. Then she purred. “My little kit has grown claws.”

Moth Flight glanced down at her belly. “I need to,” she mewed. “I’ve got my own kits to protect.”

Wind Runner swished her tail, pride warming her gaze.

“You must be tired after your journey. Let’s get you settled in your nest.”

Moth Flight got to her paws, suddenly realizing how weary she felt. She snatched a look at Jagged Peak and Holly, hoping that they’d be less prickly once they saw that she was here to stay. They avoided her gaze, their pelts ruffled.

Wind Runner nudged her toward her den. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

Moth Flight purred. It felt good to be home and Wind Runner was pleased to see her. The warmth in her mother’s mew reassured her that, from now on, everything was going to be fine.

Moth Flight rolled a wad of borage leaves into a bundle and slotted them into a small gap in the gorse at the back of her den.

She relished the coolness here. Outside, early greenleaf sunshine was scorching the camp.

The scent of herbs washed over her and she thanked StarClan that she’d stopped feeling queasy. The kits were due any day and her belly was so swollen that she felt as clumsy as a toad. She sat back on her haunches and looked approvingly at the array of herbs poking out from between the branches.

“We’ve done well.” She blinked at Reed Tail.

The silver tabby tom sat down and tucked his tail over his herb-stained paws. “You’ve taught me so much.”

In the moon since she’d returned to the WindClan camp, Moth Flight had shared with him all she’d learned from the other medicine cats. When the kits came, she guessed that there would be times when she’d be too busy to tend to her Clan and she wanted him to be prepared to take her place. And so, she had spent nearly every day with him, scouring the moor for herbs, and teaching him their names as they gathered them for her store.

She glanced at her nest now, wondering when the kits would come. She had woven extra heather to make it larger, and lined it thickly with moss. She shifted as a twinge in her belly made her wince.

Reed Tail stiffened. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Moth Flight told him. “The kits are just fidgety today.”

As she spoke, fur brushed the gorse entrance.

Rocky padded into the den, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. “My chest is feeling a bit tight.” He looked at her hopefully. “Can you spare some catmint?”

Moth Flight heaved herself to her paws and crossed the den.

She pressed her ear against his flank and listened for bubbling inside his chest. He was breathing clearly. She looked at him sternly. “You’re as fit as a flea. I can’t waste catmint on healthy cats. I’d have to travel to Twolegplace to fetch more.”

“I could fetch some for you,” Rocky offered. “I know Twolegplace well. I used to live there, remember?”

“That’s a kind offer.” She wouldn’t put it past the old tom to travel to Twolegplace in search of catmint. “But let younger cats fetch the herbs. Your paws are too stiff to climb the wooden walls.”

Rocky’s eyes brightened. “Does catmint help stiff paws?”

Moth Flight’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “No, but I can give you some comfrey. Reed Tail and I picked some fresh leaves this morning.”

Rocky wrinkled his nose. “No, thanks. The stiffness doesn’t bother me that much and I—”

Moth Flight didn’t hear the rest of his words. Pain pulsed through her as a spasm gripped her belly. She gasped, swaying.

“Are the kits coming?” Reed Tail raced to her side.

“I think so.” She curled her claws into the ground, bracing herself against the pain. “Send someone to fetch Pebble Heart,” she puffed. “He knows what to do.”

Reed Tail hared from the den and left Rocky staring at her nervously.

“Do you want to lie down in your nest?” he asked hesitantly.

“No!” Moth Flight glared at him as another spasm crushed her belly. She began to pace, a growl rolling deep in her throat.

Focus on your breathing. She remembered the advice she’d given Juniper Branch and tried to concentrate on each breath.

What if she wasn’t ready? What if the kits got stuck? What if they died like Emberkit? Her thoughts began to whirl. She stopped and stared at Rocky, panic sparking through her pelt.

Rocky blinked at her. “I’ll get Wind Runner.” He ducked out of the den.

Moth Flight moaned, shocked by the pain gripping her belly.

She began pacing again, not sure what to do with herself. She couldn’t bear the thought of sitting still. Moving distracted her.

But she felt weak with the pain. She lay down as another spasm shuddered through her body. Then she scrambled to her paws, frightened at feeling so helpless.

“Moth Flight!” Wind Runner’s mew sounded at the den entrance. Her mother hurried into the den and pressed her muzzle to Moth Flight’s cheek. “Don’t be scared,” she murmured. “Everything’s going to be okay. Dust Muzzle’s on his way to fetch Pebble Heart. And Slate will be here in a moment. We’re going to look after you until Pebble Heart arrives.”

Moth Flight leaned against her mother, relief swamping her.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered.

“Just keep pacing until you need to lie down.” Wind Runner drew away and looked into Moth Flight’s eyes. “You’re not the first cat to have kits. You will be fine.”

“But it hurts!” Moth Flight was startled by the intensity of the pain.

Wind Runner’s eyes glistened with sympathy. “You won’t remember it afterward, I promise.”

“That doesn’t help me now!” Moth Flight snapped back.

Another spasm was coming. She closed her eyes as it swept over her. When it had passed, she gazed blearily at her mother.

“How long will it take?”

“Not long,” Wind Runner soothed. “Not long at all.”

Paw steps sounded at the den entrance and Slate hurried into the den. “How’s she doing?” she asked Wind Runner.

The Wind Clan leader shot her an anxious look. “The kits will be here before Pebble Heart,” she breathed.

Moth Flight stiffened as she heard her mother. “How do you know?”

Slate didn’t give Wind Runner time to answer. “Are the spasms that close together?” She turned to Moth Flight. “Lie down and let me feel your belly.”

Wincing as another spasm pulsed through her, Moth Flight lay down. She growled with pain, hardly feeling Slate’s paws on her belly.

Slate nodded briskly. “Your kits feel strong. I think they’re eager to come out and meet you.”

Pain scorched through Moth Flight. Stronger than before.

“Wind Runner!” She reached a paw toward her mother.

“It won’t be long now.” Wind Runner crouched beside her.

“I need a stick to bite on,” Moth Flight panted as she fought the urge to yowl with pain.

“I’ll get you one.” Slate ducked out of the den.

She returned a few moments later with a tough heather stem.

Moth Flight took it from her, relieved as she bit down hard with the next spasm. The wood crunched between her jaws and she moaned as her belly convulsed with such power that she thought she would die. Micah! She focused her thoughts on him, determined to stay strong. The image of his steady gaze shone in her thoughts. He seemed to be silently urging her on.

Groaning, she pushed with all her strength.

“Here’s the first kit!” Slate ducked behind her and lifted a small squirming bundle.

Moth Flight blinked at it, surprised, and spat out the stick.

“Is it okay?”

“It’s a he and he’s fine.” Slate laid the tom-kit beside Moth

Flight’s muzzle. His warm scent filled Moth Flight’s nose and she nuzzled him, her heart swelling as he squirmed against her cheek.

Her body convulsed again.

“Another one!” Slate sounded jubilant.

As a spasm seized her once more, the world seemed to blur around Moth Flight. She was aware only of pain and the muted voices of Wind Runner and Slate. In her mind, Micah’s green gaze glowed steady and strong. The heady scent of her new kits washed her muzzle and then, suddenly, the pain stopped.

“Four kits.” Wind Runner’s proud mew broke through the fog.

Moth Flight turned her head, blinking, and saw four squirming bundles beside her. Instinctively she pulled them close to her belly, reaching down to lap them dry. Two of the kits had yellow splotches on their soft white pelts. One was striped yellow all over, just like his father. “His fur!” she looked up at her mother. “It’s the same color as Micah’s!” The fourth was white, like Moth Flight. “I wonder what color their eyes will be.” The kits wriggled against her, their eyes still closed.

“You’ll have to wait a few days before you know.” Wind Runner’s mew was barely a whisper as she leaned down and lapped Moth Flight’s cheek. “Well done. I’m very proud of you.”

“Is she okay?” Pebble Heart’s anxious mew sounded at the den entrance. He nosed his way into the den, puffing to catch his breath. Heat radiated from his pelt.

Slate stared at him. “Did you run all the way?”

Pebble Heart was gazing at the kits. “I’m too late?”

“I’m afraid so,” Wind Runner told him apologetically. “But I’m glad you came. You can make sure Moth Flight and the kits are okay.”

“They look fine.” Pebble Heart’s eyes glowed.

Dust Muzzle stuck his head through the entrance. “He outran me!”

Moth Flight blinked fondly at the ShadowClan medicine cat.

“I did it!” Pride pulsed through her, stronger than any she’d felt before. “Aren’t they beautiful?” She hugged the kits closer, joy washing over her as she felt them warm against her belly.

Micah’s green gaze flashed once more in her mind. Thank you, Micah.

“They’re lovely,” Pebble Heart agreed. He leaned down and sniffed them. “They seem strong and healthy.”

Wind Runner tipped her head, her eyes glittering with worry.

“Will you stay tonight, just in case?”

“Of course,” Pebble Heart promised. “And I’ve spoken to Dappled Pelt and Cloud Spots. They’ve agreed to visit

WindClan regularly in case anyone is injured or sick while

Moth Flight’s recovering.”

Moth Flight lifted her head. “That’s kind, but there’s no need. I’ve shared everything I know with Reed Tail. He’ll be able to look after WindClan.”

Pebble Heart blinked. “You’ve been busy!”

“I just wanted to be prepared.” Moth Flight suddenly realized that, for the past moon, she’d been thinking about the future again. The grief that had dragged her into helpless despair after Micah’s death had finally eased as she planned a new life around her kits. And now they were here, each one perfect, and her heart felt as full of love as it had been when Micah was alive. She purred loudly, joy leaping in her chest as her kits purred with her. She suddenly remembered her conversation with Sun Shadow.

I will never feel like I’ve gained more than I’ve lost.

Maybe not. But you will come to value what you still have, and what you may have in the future.

She looked at Pebble Heart. “When you go home, tell Sun

Shadow he was right.”