Sign Of The Moon

Chapter 9

Dovewing’s pelt prickled with excitement as she followed Squirrelflight past the horseplace and up the hill. She had never been this way before. New sensations crowded in on her from all sides: the scent of horse, and the way the huge creatures slammed down their hooves as they cantered across their field; strong RiverClan scent borne on the wind that blew from their territory; the scents of reeds and stagnant water from the marshes that bordered the lake.

“This is so cool!” she exclaimed to Jayfeather, who was padding beside her, setting down his paws unerringly in spite of his blindness. Jayfeather just let out a faint grunt and twitched an ear.

Be like that! Dovewing thought crossly. She turned to look at Foxleap, who was gazing around with wide, wondering eyes.

“You can see so much from up here!” he meowed.

Dovewing fell back to walk beside him. “There’s a really good view of the island from here,” she remarked, flicking her tail to where she could see the Gathering place far below; at this distance the tree-bridge looked like the thinnest twig.

“And there’s ShadowClan territory.” Foxleap angled his ears toward the dark pines bordering the lake beyond the island.

Dovewing let her senses reach out until she found the ShadowClan camp. Blackstar and his deputy, Rowanclaw, were deep in conversation, while Littlecloud was in his den, muttering under his breath as he counted juniper berries.

I wonder what Foxleap would say if I told him exactly what I can see from here?

“There’s RiverClan,” she mewed aloud. “You can just see their camp—there, between the two streams.”

“Too bad there are so many trees and bushes,” Foxleap responded, letting out a mischievous mrrow. “We could spy on them!”

I can do that just fine, thanks, trees or no trees. Dovewing located Minnowtail giving her apprentice a fishing lesson. “No, Mossypaw, sit where your shadow is behind you, not stretching over the water.”

“And the WindClan camp is over there” was all she meowed to Foxleap, waving her tail toward the moorland on their other side. “It’s in a hollow, but you can’t see it from here.”

“I forgot, you’ve been there.” Foxleap’s voice held a trace of envy. “Was it scary?”

“Pretty much,” Dovewing confessed. “I shouldn’t have—”

She broke off, her pelt bristling as a grief-stricken screech sounded in her ears. For a heartbeat she looked around wildly, half fearing that one of the patrol had been grabbed by a fox. But Squirrelflight and Jayfeather were still walking quietly a few tail-lengths ahead. Foxleap was staring at her as if she had gone mad.

The screech came again. “Antpelt! No!”

Dovewing froze. The dreadful cries of grief sounded so close, but they were coming from the WindClan camp.

Then she heard Kestrelflight’s voice. “Give me more cobwebs.” She was aware of blood pouring from Antpelt’s wounds, and sensed the fever raging inside the young tom’s body.

“Kestrelflight, do something!” Now Dovewing recognized Swallowtail’s voice; she had been the cat who had cried out before. “You can’t let him die.”

“I’m doing everything I can,” the medicine cat hissed. “I’ve given him horsetail and borage, but I can’t stop the infection from spreading.”

“Then give him more!”

Dovewing picked up the sound of a cat chewing borage leaves into a pulp and pushing them down Antpelt’s throat, but the dying warrior was too weak to swallow.

“Oh, StarClan!” That was Onestar’s voice, quiet but full of sorrow. “This is a young cat. Do you have to take him now?”

“I still don’t understand how he got wounds like that.” Dovewing wasn’t sure which cat was speaking now. Maybe Torn ear; I heard him at the Gathering. “I thought it was a dog bite, but none of the patrols have reported seeing dogs in the territory.”

“I know.” Dovewing recognized the other elder, Webfoot. “And those wounds don’t look like any dog bite I’ve ever seen. You’d almost think he’d been attacked by a cat.”

A disbelieving snort came from Tornear. “That’s impossible! He would have said something if it had been a rogue.”

“Antpelt…” Swallowtail whimpered. Dovewing remembered seeing her with Antpelt at a Gathering, and guessed that they had been mates. “Antpelt, please…”

“It’s no use.” Kestrelflight’s voice, heavy with defeat. “He hunts with StarClan now.”

Swallowtail let out another grief-stricken screech, but it seemed to fade into the background; Dovewing heard another cat much more clearly.

“Sunstrike, Furzepaw, come over here.” It was Breezepelt, his voice a low mutter. “Say nothing about the Dark Forest,” he warned. “Antpelt may be dead here, but he’ll still be in the Place of No Stars. Nothing’s changed; he’s still on our side.”

Oh, Ivypool! Horror shook Dovewing from ears to tail-tip. Cats from the Clans were dying because of what was happening in the Dark Forest! Should I go back to ThunderClan and tell her what happened to Antpelt?

“Dovewing!”

A yowl from Squirrelflight jerked Dovewing back to her surroundings. The ginger she-cat was standing farther up the hill, looking back at her with annoyance in her green eyes. Jayfeather was beside her, his claws plucking impatiently at the grass.

“You’re being left behind!” Squirrelflight scolded. “Get a move on!”

“Sorry! I’m coming!” Dovewing called back, forcing her paws to move. She hated feeling as if she was abandoning the Clans to the Dark Forest, but there was nothing she could do to help Antpelt. She just had to pray that Ivypool would be careful. Her sister wasn’t stupid; she’d know soon enough that Antpelt had died from his injuries. Deliberately Dovewing closed her ears to the sounds of grief coming from the WindClan camp.

Foxleap stayed beside her as she plodded up the hill. “It’s okay to be spooked when you’re so far away from home,” he reassured her. “Don’t worry. I’ll look after you.”

I can look after myself, thanks! Dovewing just stopped herself from snarling the words out loud. It’s not like I can tell him what the real problem is.

Still quivering from the shock of Antpelt’s death, Dovewing drew closer to the top of the hill. A couple of fox-lengths below her, Jayfeather stumbled over a rock. Instantly Squirrelflight was by his side, steadying him.

Jayfeather turned on her with a hiss. “I don’t need your help!”

Squirrelflight’s tail lashed. “Fine! Sprain your paw and finish your journey before it’s started. There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she added more quietly. “Even sighted cats trip.”

Jayfeather let out a growl of annoyance and stomped away toward the hilltop.

As Dovewing took the final paw steps that brought her up to the ridge, she began to feel strong wind buffeting her fur. Behind her the lake looked small and distant, the different territories blending into one another. Ahead, thick forest covered the downward slope, leading to wide stretches of grass cut through by Thunderpaths. Everywhere she looked, she could see Twoleg dens: some standing alone, some clustered in groups.

All those dens together must be Twoleg camps.

Dovewing stood in a line with her Clanmates, wind flattening their fur and whistling around their ears. Instantly noise blasted through her mind, almost driving her back down the hill. Chaotic visions spiraled in front of her eyes; she froze, paws digging into the ground, as she tried to make sense of what she could see and hear. But the solid hilltop seemed to melt away under her paws, and she was whirled into a storm of noise and color.

A glittering red monster growled out of a flat-roofed Twoleg den; Twoleg kits ran and screeched; a huge black-and-white animal she’d never seen before stared at her from liquid eyes, its jaws moving rhythmically; a male Twoleg pushed a tiny, snarling monster across a stretch of grass, snapping at the stems; more dogs than she’d ever imagined were barking all together; somewhere water was gushing; the scent of crow-food washed over her.

Sick and giddy, Dovewing squeezed her eyes shut, but the whirl of images continued.

“Dovewing! Dovewing!” Foxleap’s voice cut faintly across the turmoil.

Dovewing couldn’t move. She tried to reply to Foxleap, but she couldn’t form the words. Then she became aware of another cat standing close to her.

“Dovewing!” It was Jayfeather’s voice, quiet but incisive. “Focus on me. Block out the rest of the noise.”

“Can’t—” Gasping out a single word was a huge effort.

“Yes, you can. Come on—concentrate!”

His voice was sharp, like a splash of icy water. One by one, Dovewing drew her senses back in. She dared to open her eyes and made out the blurred shape of Jayfeather in front of her.

“That’s better.” She could hear his voice more clearly now. “Focus harder. Don’t let go.”

There was still a dull, aching roar in Dovewing’s head, but she could feel the ground under her paws again, and see her companions; Squirrelflight and Foxleap were staring at her in alarm.

Foxleap drew his tail-tip gently down her side. “It’s all right,” he whispered.

“Are you okay to go on?” Squirrelflight demanded bluntly. “If you’re not, just tell us. It’s not too late for you to go back.”

Dovewing couldn’t stop trembling. She guessed that down by the lake, the hills had shielded her special senses from the outside world. There would be nothing to protect her now. So she’d have to learn to protect herself. The dull roar inside her head threatened to increase, but she pushed it back down. She took a deep breath and faced Squirrelflight, struggling to keep her voice even. “I’ll be fine. I want to keep going.”

Squirrelflight gave her a hard look, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.” She began to lead the way down the slope into the trees.

Foxleap padded close beside Dovewing, their pelts brushing. “Walk with me,” he murmured. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

Dovewing was still so shaken that she didn’t have the strength to be angry with him for assuming she was frightened of leaving familiar territory.

As they reached the first of the trees, Jayfeather signed to Dovewing to halt, and let Foxleap pad on alone for a few paw steps. “Did you see the mountain cats?” he hissed into Dovewing’s ear.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Jayfeather let out a frustrated snort. Guilt weighed down Dovewing’s paw steps even more. I should have tried to find out something helpful for the journey.

As she padded farther into the trees, her feelings of uneasiness faded. She was growing used to blocking out the rush of sensations, and she thought that the surrounding trees were cutting off some of the images that assailed her. This forest was very like ThunderClan territory, too; she began to feel at home, and even to enjoy the journey.

“Bet you can’t leap over that!” Foxleap challenged her when they came to a shallow stream.

“Bet I can!” Dovewing retorted, racing up to the bank and pushing off strongly so that her paws landed squarely on the cool moss beyond.

Foxleap jumped after her, but one hind paw slipped as he took off, and he landed with his hindquarters in the stream, droplets splashing up his legs and into his belly fur.

“Clumsy furball!” Dovewing called with a mrrow of laughter.

Foxleap hauled himself out, shaking his reddish tabby pelt. “I’ll show you who’s a furball!” he meowed, launching himself after Dovewing.

With a squeal of excitement, Dovewing pelted away, hiding behind the drooping branches of a willow tree. Foxleap dived after her, chasing her around the trunk and batting at her tail with his forepaws, his claws sheathed.

“Honestly! Are you kits?” Squirrelflight’s voice came from outside the screen of willow boughs.

“Oops!” Dovewing exchanged a guilty glance with Foxleap. She poked her head out through the branches to see Squirrelflight standing a couple of tail-lengths away, her tail-tip twitching. “Sorry.”

Squirrelflight rolled her eyes. “There’s a long way to go,” she meowed, not sounding as angry as Dovewing had expected. “You need to save your energy. We’re going to hunt now and then rest.”

“But I’m not sleepy!” Foxleap protested, popping his head out of the willow screen beside Dovewing. “I could run forever.”

Squirrelflight just heaved a long sigh and stalked away. Cautiously Dovewing extended her senses until she found a vole scuffling under the bank of the stream she had just crossed. Setting her paws down as light as leaves falling, she crept up on it. It has no idea that I’m here, she thought. I guess the prey in these woods aren’t used to cats hunting.

Reaching the edge of the stream, she pounced and straightened up with the vole in her jaws. Glancing around, she spotted Jayfeather sitting on the bank a little farther upstream. “Here,” she meowed, padding over and dropping the vole at his paws. “I can easily catch more.”

“Thanks. And we need to talk.”

Dovewing nodded, then remembered that Jayfeather couldn’t see her. “Okay. Just wait for me to find some more prey.”

Within a few heartbeats she had located a thrush pecking at the ground near the foot of a beech tree. This was a harder bit of stalking than the vole, she reflected as she slid across the forest floor, alert for any twitching grass or crackling leaf that might betray her presence. She leaped on the thrush from a fox-length away, slamming both her forepaws down on it and snapping its neck.

When she returned to Jayfeather, she spotted Squirrelflight and Foxleap sharing a squirrel nearby. Dovewing padded past them and sat beside Jayfeather, taking a hungry bite of her fresh-kill. “What do you want to say?” she mumbled with her mouth full.

Jayfeather was eating the vole with quick, neat bites. He swallowed before replying. “You need to cast your senses ahead and find the mountain cats as soon as you can.”

“I know.” Irritation swelled up inside Dovewing, and she had to stop her tail from twitching. “Give me a chance, Jayfeather. I need time to get used to being out here.”

Jayfeather grunted. “Don’t take too long.”

Annoying furball, Dovewing thought as she finished her thrush and curled up for a nap. Then she reminded herself that all the weight of this expedition lay on Jayfeather’s skinny shoulders; it wasn’t surprising that he was getting impatient. I’ll do my best, she promised silently.

Sending out her senses again, she explored the woodland: Small creatures were scuffling in the grass; a couple of foxes were asleep in their den. Let’s hope they stay asleep. Farther into the woodland the stream grew wider, and by the time it reached the other side there were pools deep enough for fish.

It’s good here. I wish Ivypool were with me, she thought drowsily as she sank into sleep.

Heartbeats later, it seemed, Squirrelflight was poking a paw into her side. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

Dovewing staggered to her paws and blinked sleep out of her eyes. Though the sky was cloudy, she guessed it was just past sunhigh. Foxleap was arching his back in a long stretch while Jayfeather waited, impatiently tearing at the grass with his claws.

Following the stream, Squirrelflight led the way to the other side of the wood. The trees ended in an untidy border of bramble and hazel bushes. Beyond them stretched a dusty slope leading into a valley. Dovewing spotted Twoleg nests in the distance, and made sure that her senses were closed down so she didn’t pick up any of the Twoleg racket. On the other side of the valley were more hills covered in trees. Above them, gray peaks rose into the sky. At first Dovewing thought that she was looking at some sort of weird clouds, until Squirrelflight pointed at them with her tail.

“There. The mountains.”

“That’s where we’re going?” Foxleap’s tone was a mixture of excitement and apprehension. “They’re huge!”

And we have to climb them? Dovewing didn’t speak—she didn’t want Squirrelflight thinking she was scared again—but she suddenly felt very small and insignificant.

“Last time we came, we spent the night here,” Squirrelflight meowed with a glance at the sky. “But I think we can go on a bit longer.” She led the way down the slope and into the valley. A few horses were cropping the sparse grass; they were smaller than the ones Dovewing had seen at the horseplace, and their pelts were shaggier. They stood under a tree, their tails swinging as they watched the cats with curious eyes. But to Dovewing’s relief none of them came closer.

Just beyond the horses was a single Twoleg nest, surrounded by a wall of gray stone. As the patrol padded past, a furious hiss came from the top of the wall above their heads. Dovewing looked up to see a fat ginger kittypet, its back arched and its fur bristling.

“Get out of here!” it snarled. “This is my place!”

“Oh really?” Foxleap spun around to face the kittypet, ready to leap up onto the wall. “You want to prove it, kittypet?”

“No!” Squirrelflight thrust herself in front of Foxleap. “Calm down. We’re not looking for trouble.”

“But it’s a kittypet!” Foxleap protested. “I could beat it with one paw!”

“Come up here and try!” the kittypet yowled. “You’ve no business here, flea-pelts!”

“Are you going to let it talk to us like that?” Foxleap asked, outraged.

It was Jayfeather who replied. “Use the sense you were born with, Foxleap. If you get hurt, what am I supposed to do for you out here? Do we know where the nearest cobweb is? Can I find horsetail before you bleed to death?”

“But—” Foxleap was still glaring up at the kittypet.

“Ignore it. We keep moving. Now,” Squirrelflight meowed.

She turned and padded forward. Jayfeather lashed his tail, gesturing to Foxleap to follow. The young warrior obeyed, though not without a last angry hiss at the kittypet. Dove wing brought up the rear.

“Cowards!” the kittypet screeched after them. “Go away and stay away!”

Dovewing was relieved when they hurried out of earshot, but her relief vanished as Jayfeather turned to her.

“I wish you’d given us some warning,” he muttered.

“What?” Dovewing couldn’t believe he was blaming her for the encounter with the kittypet. “I don’t know this area,” she defended herself. “I can’t just listen for things up ahead, because I have to watch where I’m putting my paws!”

The medicine cat let out an annoyed growl and lapsed into sulky silence.

“I can scout ahead if you like,” Foxleap offered.

“Oh, fine.” Squirrelflight’s tone was sarcastic. “And then we arrive to find you’ve got into a fight. No thanks.”

“I won’t, honestly,” Foxleap promised.

“No.” Now Squirrelflight sounded calmer. “I trust you to obey orders, Foxleap, but it’s better if we stay together.”

The patrol walked on. Not much later, the line of a hedge crossed their path, the thorny bushes gray and bare, with grass tangled at their roots.

“We go through here,” Squirrelflight explained, “and cross the field beyond. But stay in the shelter of the hedge. It’s safer.”

Jayfeather murmured agreement. “We’re near the farm where Lionblaze and Hollyleaf had trouble with dogs,” he meowed. “Let’s keep a good lookout.” He gave Dovewing a hard gaze as he spoke.

Squirrelflight led the way along the hedge until they came to a gap between two bushes, big enough for a cat to squeeze through.

“Dovewing, you go first,” Jayfeather ordered.

“Who’s leading this patrol, Jayfeather?” Squirrelflight inquired. Turning to Dovewing, she added, “Okay, but be careful.”

Dovewing knew why Jayfeather had chosen her. She was already sending a tendril of her special senses through the hedge and into the field beyond. No dogs. But some other weird animals…oh, I know! Sheep. She remembered seeing them in the distance on her visit to WindClan. They won’t do us any harm.

Flattening herself on her belly, she crawled through the gap, feeling thorns rake through the fur on her back. Rising to her paws on the other side, she found herself facing two big white woolly animals, with sharp hooves and placid, incurious faces.

It feels strange seeing them so close, she thought. They look a bit mouse-brained.

“Dovewing?” Squirrelflight’s voice came anxiously through the hedge. “Are you okay?”

“Fine!” Dovewing replied. “You can come through.”

Jayfeather appeared next, shaking his ruffled pelt as he rose to his paws and stepped into the field. Foxleap followed him, and lastly Squirrelflight, panting as she pulled herself through the clustering thorns.

“See?” she mewed triumphantly as she straightened up. “I’m not stuck!” Then she looked disconcerted.

It’s like she was talking to a cat who isn’t here, Dovewing thought.

Shaking her head as if to clear it, Squirrelflight led the patrol along the line of the hedge. The field was huge; Dovewing couldn’t even see the other side. Everything’s so big here, she thought, suppressing a shiver. I can’t even see the edges of the sky.

Suddenly loud barking clattered into her ears. She froze, astonished for a heartbeat that the rest of the patrol were quietly plodding on. The scent of dog filled her nostrils. Then she realized that her special senses were giving her advance warning. “Dog!” she yowled. “Take cover!”

Squirrelflight whipped around, gazing across the field. “Where?”

“Over there.”

As Dovewing stretched out her tail to point, a dog appeared at the crest of a gentle rise in the middle of the field. Yapping loudly, it raced toward the cats, its tail flying and the wind ruffling its black-and-white pelt.

“Fox dung!” Squirrelflight hissed. “Dovewing, Foxleap, get Jayfeather into the hedge.”

Foxleap was already pushing Jayfeather into the bushes. Dovewing spotted a branch where the thorns weren’t quite so thick, and slid into the hedge beside Jayfeather. “Put your paws there,” she ordered, guiding him with her tail. “Now climb!”

As Jayfeather hauled himself upward, spitting annoyance, Dovewing glanced back to see Squirrelflight standing with her back to the hedge. Her fur was fluffed out so that she looked twice her size; her back was arched and she was snarling as the dog galloped closer.

“Stay back, mange-pelt!” she growled.

Safe for the moment in the tangle of bushes, Dovewing admired Squirrelflight’s courage. She thought of Jayfeather first, she mused, remembering the stories of how the ginger warrior had raised Jayfeather and his littermates as if they were her own, even though Leafpool was their real mother.

Squirrelflight still feels as if she is their mother, Dovewing realized with a pang of sympathy. Even now.

Peering out through the thorny branches, she saw that the dog had halted in front of Squirrelflight, letting out a flurry of excited yelps but not making any move to attack. StarClan, please make it go away.

“Oh, no!” Foxleap’s voice broke in on her prayer.

Dovewing peered out again and saw another dog crest the rise and bound across the field toward them. Two of them!

They’re bound to attack now.

Squirrelflight stayed on guard, and Dovewing started to struggle out of the thorns again to help her. But before she cleared the hedge, the second dog halted beside the first and started barking at him. Noticing that his muzzle was gray with age, Dovewing realized that the second dog was much older. “He sounds like a mentor telling off an apprentice!” she whispered to Foxleap.

The younger dog crouched low to the ground and let out a whimper. After a few heartbeats, while all the cats waited tensely, both dogs turned and ran off across the field. They started to run after the scattered sheep, herding them into a flock.

“He did!” Foxleap’s eyes were sparkling with amusement. “He said, ‘Leave those cats alone, you stupid furball, and get on with the job!’”

Sighing with relief, Dovewing clambered out of the hedge, while Foxleap helped Jayfeather down. The medicine cat emerged into the open with a grunt of indignation, craning his neck to pick debris out of his pelt.

“I’ve got a thorn in my pad,” he muttered. “Some cat look for a dock leaf.”

Dovewing detected the scent of a clump of dock at the bottom of the hedge and tore off a couple of leaves to give to Jayfeather. While he rubbed the soothing juice on his pad, she sent her senses out after the dogs and the sheep. They had disappeared from view, but she could still track them; the dogs were herding the sheep in a tight cluster to the far end of the field and through a gap into another field. A Twoleg was with them.

“I don’t think we’ll have any more trouble with them,” she mewed.

“I hope you’re right.” Squirrelflight was smoothing down her pelt. She was the only one of them not to look shaken. “We’ll get out of this field and then make camp for the night,” the ginger warrior went on. “We could all do with a rest after that.”

Dovewing glanced back the way they had come as Squirrelflight set out again along the hedge. Sunlight had broken through a gap in the clouds, bathing the field in scarlet as it went down. Dovewing could still see the range of hills they had crossed, and she tried to picture the lake and the Clans on the far side. Her Clanmates would be returning from the evening patrols and settling down in their dens for the night.

She sent out her senses and felt a shudder deep within her as she discovered that for the first time she couldn’t connect with the world she had left behind. There were too many sounds, too many impressions in between.

I’m a long, long way from home.