Moth Flight’s Vision

Prologue

“Help her!” Horror seared through Moth Flight’s body as she spotted the blue-gray she-cat lying in the ditch beside the dirt track. Blood darkened the she-cat’s neck, spreading fast through her thick fur. Her flanks trembled as she struggled for each shallow breath.

Other feline shapes moved around Moth Flight, hazy in the pale dawn. She snapped her head around as a hiss sounded beside her. A huge dark tabby reared and smashed his forepaws down onto a smaller black-and-white tom. “Why don’t you help her?” Moth Flight begged. But neither cat seemed to hear. The tom scrabbled desperately at the earth as the tabby pinned him down.

Moth Flight’s thoughts spun. Is this a battle?

But the other cats weren’t fighting.

Ginger fur flickered like flame through the ditch as a young tom raced to the she-cat’s side and crouched beside her. Two frightened faces peered over the top of the ditch, ears twitching.

Blood was seeping onto the ground from the she-cat’s neck.

“She’s dying!” Moth Flight yowled to the fighting toms. But they only snarled at one another more viciously.

Dread shadowed her heart. Moth Flight raced toward the injured she-cat, her paws moving soundlessly over the earth.

Early sunlight struck her flank, but made no shadow on the earth beyond.

She slid into the ditch and stopped beside the flame-colored tom. “What happened to her?”

The tom didn’t answer. He leaned close to the injured she-cat, until his breath stirred her ear fur.

“Don’t die!” Moth Flight reached out to touch the she-cat, but her paw passed through the injured cat’s flank as if she was cutting through mist.

Dark fur loomed beside her. The great tabby had stopped fighting and come at last. But as he pushed past her, Moth Flight felt no weight. His fur brushed through her as though she weren’t there.

The two young cats, watching from the top of the ditch, climbed down into the shadows and stood trembling beside the ginger tom. She saw the tabby’s mouth open and close as he spoke, but she couldn’t hear his words.

Moth Flight held her breath as she saw the blue-gray cat’s flanks grow still.

She’s dying!

The sight of death sliced through Moth Flight like an icy wind, and she began to tremble. She remembered Gray Wing’s death, just a moon ago. She’d shivered as she’d peered into his open grave, her heart twisting as she saw how small he looked and how dull his fur had become. The warmhearted tom, whose pelt had rippled in the wind, had been lost in death. Prey seemed to lie in his place. His Clan had buried him, eyes hollow with grief, yet at least the ceremony had given them a chance to say good-bye.

“You must bury her,” she breathed shakily.

But the cats did not move. They only stared at their dead friend, hardly blinking as the sun lifted higher into the sky. The-black-and-white tom watched from a few tail-lengths away, nervously eyeing the tabby.

“Don’t just stand there!” Frustration raged through Moth

Flight as she tried to make herself heard. “Show her some respect! Start digging her grave.”

No cat turned or even betrayed with an ear twitch that they’d heard her.

The sun lifted higher until its rays spilled into the ditch.

“Are you going to leave her here for crows to pick at?”

Moth Flight couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Are these cats heartless?

Suddenly, the blue-gray she-cat’s tail twitched.

Moth Flight gasped, shock jolting through her. Had the wind caught the dead cat’s fur?

No!

The blue-gray she-cat was lifting her head, looking blearily at the others.

Moth Flight tried to back away, but the mist seemed to entwine her paws, holding her still. She stared in disbelief as the she-cat spoke to the flame-pelted tom. She was dead! Moth Flight couldn’t make out the words but she could see, as the cat’s blue eyes cleared, authority in her gaze. It reminded her of her own mother’s look. Was this she-cat the group’s leader?

How was she alive?

The young cats moved away to let the she-cat stand. As she heaved herself slowly to her paws, relief washed over their faces.

But the tabby only stared. His amber gaze betrayed nothing—neither relief, nor joy. Moth Flight drew in a trembling breath and began to run, clambering out of the ditch, her thoughts spinning as she tried to make sense of what she’d seen.

A pale flash caught her eye and she lifted her head, surprised to see a great, green moth. Its wide translucent wings fluttered in the breeze; dawn sunshine flooded through them so they glowed as bright as new leaves.

She watched the moth dance away, realizing that, beyond it, she could see Highstones. Their towering peaks glittered in the sunshine and Moth Flight narrowed her eyes against the glare, straining to see the moth as it fluttered toward them.

Without thinking, she leaped the ditch and began to follow the moth as it bobbed over the grass, keeping low. I must reach it! She bounded after it as it zigzagged like a petal caught on a breeze, staying just beyond paw reach.

It pulled farther ahead until she stumbled to a halt and watched it fly away. Moth Flight was surprised by a fierce longing in her heart. Wait for me! A wail caught in her throat. I want to come with you!