Sign Of The Moon

Chapter 19

“Please,” Jayfeather begged. “Let me stay here with Half Moon. This is my only chance to live like my Clanmates, to raise kits and grow old with a mate.”

“That is not why you have returned to these cats,” Rock meowed somberly. “And this is not where Half Moon’s future lies. She must become the first Teller of the Pointed Stones.”

“Why?” Anger and frustration gripped Jayfeather with all the force of the eagle’s talons. “Why not some other cat?”

“Because Half Moon can read the reflections,” Rock replied. “She saw the sign of the moon.”

“Any cat could have seen that!”

Rock shook his head. “It is not her destiny to have kits and live the same life as her companions. You must help her see that.”

“Couldn’t you have done that on your own?” Jayfeather’s anger was rising now, spinning out of his control. “Why did you need me? Did you know what would happen, how I would feel about Half Moon?”

Rock dipped his head, an admission that he had known it all. “You have the power of the stars, Jayfeather. There are some things you must do, however hard they may seem.”

“It’s not fair.” Jayfeather flexed his claws. “And you can’t make me.”

He turned away, meaning to go back to the cave and seek out Half Moon, but suddenly Rock was in front of him, barring his way with ominous strength, in spite of his blindness and scrawny, hairless body.

“I can make you if I have to,” he warned Jayfeather quietly. “Where do you think the prophecy came from? This is your destiny. Yours and Half Moon’s.”

Trembling with fury, Jayfeather brushed past him and scrambled down beside the waterfall. Between his anger and his soreness from fighting the eagle, he lost his footing a few tail-lengths from the ground and fell, the breath driven from his body as he landed beside the pool. Struggling to his paws, he spotted Rising Moon at the end of the path that led behind the waterfall. He braced himself for more cold words as she padded toward him, but as she drew closer he saw that her eyes were full of gentle concern.

“Thank you for your courage, Jay’s Wing,” she mewed. “If we can survive here until we are strong enough to go back to the lake, you have done us a great favor.”

Following her back into the cave, Jayfeather saw that most of the cats were clustered around Stone Song and the rest of the patrol.

“So we leaped up onto the eagle’s wings…” Stone Song gave a huge jump into the air as he spoke.

Owl Feather’s three kits were watching with open mouths, their hunger forgotten.

“Come on, Strong Pounce,” one of them mewed to his littermate. “I’m going to be an eagle, and you and Running Fox can attack me.”

“You’re so bossy, Lapping Wave,” another kit replied. “I want to be the eagle!” He flung himself at his littermate and all three kits wrestled together on the floor.

Jayfeather suppressed a mrrow of laughter to see the tiny cats behaving like kits again. For the first time he sensed optimism and humor among these cats.

“So the eagle let Jayfeather go, and flew off,” Stone Song finished. “We won!”

Yowls of approval rose up from the cats who surrounded him. Stone Song let them continue for a moment, then raised his tail for silence. “We need a hunting patrol,” he went on. “Jagged Lightning, you come with me, and Dove’s Wing and Fish Leap. You were best at fighting the eagle, so we’ll protect the hunters.”

“Rising Moon and Dawn River should do the hunting,” Jagged Lightning meowed with a nod of agreement. “They were the best at catching prey by the lake.”

“Right.” Stone Song gathered his patrol together with a wave of his tail. “We’ll take Whispering Breeze, too. That should be enough for now.”

The patrol headed toward the entrance to the cave, the rest of the cats clustering together to watch them go. “Good luck!” Half Moon called.

“Bring us back something tasty!” Running Horse added.

Jayfeather knew that he should feel hopeful. Although the cats were still thinking about returning to the lake, they were at least making an effort to adapt to life in the mountains. But he had no room for hope; all he could think about was how he had to teach Half Moon to become Stoneteller, and then return to the time of the Clans.

Stone Song nodded to Jayfeather as the patrol padded past him on their way to the path behind the waterfall. “We owe you a lot,” he meowed. “You should stay here and get some rest after your struggle.”

Jayfeather dipped his head, though inwardly he was wincing. They treat me like one of them.

But all the time he belonged somewhere else, far, far away.

Half Moon bounded up to him. “Are you fit to go out again? I was thinking about those herbs that you found yesterday, when we were buried in the snow. We ought to go see if there are any more.”

Jayfeather’s heart weighed heavier than the mountains as he gazed into her eager eyes. “Can we go to the cave with the pointed stones first?”

Half Moon looked puzzled, then nodded. “If you want to.”

As they crossed the cavern, Jayfeather spotted Shy Fawn lying near Owl Feather, with her swollen belly propped awkwardly. Her kits will be born soon, he thought.

Half Moon paused and touched Shy Fawn’s shoulder with her tail-tip. “You’ll be fine now,” she murmured. “The patrol will bring you some prey.”

Shy Fawn blinked gratefully.

Jayfeather led the way down the tunnel into the Cave of Pointed Stones. Dawn light spilled through the hole in the roof, turning the pools to sheets of glimmering silver. Jayfeather let his gaze travel over the spikes of stone. Everything looked just the same as it did in the time of the Tribe of Rushing Water. If the stones had grown by then, he couldn’t tell. The cave seemed alive with the sound of dripping water, the light rippling over the columns and pinnacles.

“I wonder whether any other cats have visited here,” Half Moon meowed, her voice echoing. “Do you think the moon shines in the pool every night?”

Jayfeather swallowed uncomfortably. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

Half Moon padded close to him, her beautiful green eyes expectant. “Yes, Jay’s Wing?”

Taking a deep breath, Jayfeather stared down at the pool as he spoke. “I followed you here for a reason. I…I know some things you don’t.” When he dared to glance at Half Moon again, he saw that she was bristling playfully. Clearly she thought she knew what he was going to say.

“No…not like that.” Every word was being wrenched out of Jayfeather. “Half Moon, this is the place where you are meant to be. You and all the cats from the lake. Other cats have lived here before and survived, however hard it seems. You can’t go back. Your future lies here.”

Half Moon stared at him as if he had grown a second head. Continuing to talk to her was the hardest thing Jayfeather had ever done. I’d face all the eagles in the mountains rather than tell her this.

“You will become their leader,” he went on. “This cave will be your den, and your ancestors will guide you with signs in the pool, like the reflection of the new moon you saw last night. You will be known as the Teller of the Pointed Stones. This is your destiny.”

For a few heartbeats there was silence. “Well, that’s a mouthful of a name!” Half Moon meowed at last. Her voice was shaking—with outrage or amusement, Jayfeather couldn’t tell. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No. I promise you it isn’t.” Jayfeather’s heart sank when he saw anger gathering in the green eyes that had looked at him so warmly.

“You came all this way to tell me this?” she burst out. “Where did you get all these mouse-brained ideas? Jay’s Wing, I’ve shown you how I feel! Is it so awful that I might have wanted to have your kits? If you’re not interested, then why can’t you just turn me down, like any normal tom?”

Her fury, her sense of betrayal, crashed over Jayfeather like a wave. Overwhelmed, drowning in it, he murmured, “This has nothing to do with me. It’s your destiny! I’m sorry!”

For a heartbeat, Half Moon faced him, glaring; then she whipped around and stormed out of the cave.

“Wait—”

Jayfeather bounded after her; when he emerged from the tunnel he saw her racing across the cavern to the entrance. She mustn’t go out there alone! It’s dangerous!

“Stop!” he yowled.

Half Moon ignored him. But then a feeble wail rose from the side of the cave where Shy Fawn was lying. “Half Moon, help me! My kits are coming!”

Half Moon halted, then spun around, looking for Jayfeather. “Jay’s Wing! Over here!” she called.

Jayfeather hurried across the cave and met her in front of Shy Fawn. Owl Feather was heading in her direction, too, but she was held up by her kits tumbling around her paws.

“Stay back there,” the she-cat scolded her litter. “This isn’t for kits.”

“But we want to see!” Strong Pounce protested.

“No! Go over there and play, and don’t make too much noise. This is a hard time for Shy Fawn.”

Looking down at the pregnant she-cat, Jayfeather had to agree. Shy Fawn’s distended belly was huge for such a small cat, and he wondered how many kits she was carrying. Her eyes were wide and scared.

“Please help me,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”

Anger clawed at Jayfeather as he realized how frightened she was. She should have given birth among the soft moss and bracken of a proper nursery, not here on this rocky floor without even the right herbs.

At least she’s got a medicine cat, he thought.

“Half Moon,” he began briskly, “you remember where we got the moss for Chasing Clouds? Can you get some more, and soak it with water so that Shy Fawn can have a drink?”

Half Moon nodded and sped off.

“Owl Feather, I need a stick. Something good and stout that Shy Fawn can bite down on when the pains come. You should find one by the bushes around the pool.”

Owl Feather blinked in surprise at being ordered around, but she didn’t protest, just called over her shoulder as she padded toward the entrance, “Make sure my kits don’t follow me out.”

Jayfeather turned his attention back to Shy Fawn. Powerful ripples were passing across her belly, and she gasped with pain.

“Relax as much as you can,” Jayfeather advised her. “It won’t be long now.”

Half Moon reappeared with a bundle of wet moss in her jaws and sat down beside Shy Fawn’s head, helping her to drink, then licking her ears gently to keep her calm.

Another ripple coursed over Shy Fawn’s belly, and she let out a sharp cry of pain as she began straining.

“That’s good,” Jayfeather reassured her. “You’re coming along nicely.”

Owl Feather bounded up with the stick Jayfeather had asked for, and dropped it on the ground so that Shy Fawn could grip it in her jaws. “How many kits, do you think?” she asked Jayfeather.

Jayfeather felt Shy Fawn’s belly with his forepaw. “Three, at least,” he replied, realizing how weird it was to be able to see as he delivered kits. “Hang on, I think the first one’s coming.”

Shy Fawn’s belly convulsed. Jayfeather heard the stick crack in her teeth, and a small bundle of wet fur slid out onto the cave floor. Half Moon cushioned it with her paws and nudged it over to Shy Fawn.

“It’s a little tom,” she mewed. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

Shy Fawn gazed down at her kit, all the fear gone from her eyes, swallowed up in overwhelming love. “He’s black, just like Dark Whiskers,” she murmured, bending her head to lick his fur.

Jayfeather gave her shoulder a prod with one paw. “Concentrate. There’s more to come.”

“Yes, I—oh!” Shy Fawn’s words ended in a yowl as the pain gripped her again.

Jayfeather massaged her belly, while Half Moon stroked her head. “Breathe deeply,” she encouraged her. “It’ll be over soon.”

As she spoke, a second kit slid out; Jayfeather trapped it gently between his forepaws and placed it beside its littermate. “Another tom,” he meowed. “And the next one’s right behind it.”

As Shy Fawn strained to bring her next kit into the world, Jayfeather heard jubilant yowls from outside the cave and turned his head to see the hunting patrol jostling through the entrance. Stone Song was carrying a vole, while Jagged Lightning was dragging an enormous snow-white hare.

“It worked!” Fish Leap bounded into the middle of the cavern. “A hawk swooped down on us, but it took one look at our claws and flew away again.”

“We should be able to work out a way to catch birds,” Dove’s Wing meowed. “An eagle would feed all of us for days!”

Then the hunting patrol fell silent as they realized what was going on. Stone Song dropped his vole and raced across the cavern to Shy Fawn. “Her kits are here!” he exclaimed. “Is she going to be okay?”

“She’ll be fine,” Jayfeather replied. Shy Fawn’s third kit—a little she-cat—had made her appearance. Looking down at the exhausted mother cat, he had his doubts about what he had just said, but he wasn’t going to voice them. Shy Fawn had been hungry and worn out by the journey before she ever got here, grieving for her mate, and life in the cavern still looked pretty bleak. But at least the hunting had been successful.

“Bring her something to eat,” he directed. “And when it’s ready, that hare’s pelt would be good to keep the kits warm.”

By now Shy Fawn’s three kits were beginning to squeak and wriggle. She guided them toward her teats, but Jayfeather fended them off with one forepaw while he ran the other over her belly.

“You’re not finished yet,” he told her. “There’s another kit in there.”

Shy Fawn made one last effort, letting out a high-pitched screech. The final kit slithered out and lay motionless on the cave floor.

“There!” Half Moon exclaimed. “Well done!”

Shy Fawn collapsed, exhausted, and Half Moon guided the kits into the curve of her belly. Each of them latched on to a teat, and their high-pitched complaints died away into silence as they began to suckle.

Jayfeather felt the fourth kit gently with one paw; it was another tom, this time with a golden tabby pelt, and though he was so small, he looked compact and strong. But he still didn’t move.

“Is he dead?” Half Moon whispered.

Jayfeather thought he could detect the feeble flutter of a heartbeat, but the kit didn’t seem to be breathing. “He’s not dead,” he replied. “And I’m not going to let him give up that easily!”

He pawed a little mucus out of the kit’s mouth, then began licking him vigorously, thrusting the fur the wrong way to warm the kit up and start his body working. Shy Fawn raised her head and watched anxiously. Suddenly the tiny kit convulsed between Jayfeather’s paws. He took a gulp of air and let out a loud yowl straight at Jayfeather, who stared at the familiar golden pelt and the set of the shoulders, and marveled at the strength in the tiny body.

“He has a roar like a lion,” some cat commented from behind Jayfeather.

“Then I’ll call him Lion’s Roar,” Shy Fawn murmured proudly.

No, Jayfeather thought. This is Lionblaze. Welcome, brother.

He gave the kit a lick between the ears and nudged him into the curve of Shy Fawn’s belly, where he began to suckle strongly next to his littermates. Jayfeather glanced over his shoulder to see Dove’s Wing among the cats who were crowding around. The gray she-cat’s eyes were wide with wonder as she watched Shy Fawn caring for her litter.

And there you are, as well, Jayfeather thought. How weird: She’s called Dovewing in our time, too. Glancing from Dove’s Wing to Lion’s Roar, he added to himself, The three of us are here now, even if the other two don’t realize it. The Power of Three has begun.

Suddenly he sensed a familiar presence at his shoulder.

“It is nearly time,” Rock whispered.

Jayfeather tensed, and for a heartbeat he considered ignoring the ancient cat’s warning. Then he sighed. He knew there was no use fighting destiny. Glancing around, he spotted Half Moon and made his way to her side. “Come on. Let’s go out for some air,” he murmured.

Half Moon nodded and followed him along the path and up the rocks beside the waterfall. To Jayfeather’s astonishment, he saw that the short leaf-bare day had ended and the moon was shining, a little brighter and plumper than the night before.

Standing at the edge of the cliff, her fur ruffled by the breeze, Half Moon looked up at the thin crescent. “It’s still there,” she whispered.

“Yes, and it will always be there,” Jayfeather responded. “Just as your descendants will be here. It’s up to you to make them stay, Half Moon, to persuade them that they can survive with their new ways of hunting. You must use all your skills with herbs to look after them.”

Half Moon’s green eyes were worried. “I don’t want to be a leader,” she protested.

“Then call yourself their Healer.”

The she-cat looked away as if she didn’t want Jayfeather to see the pain in her eyes. “You truly believe this, don’t you?”

Jayfeather stepped closer to her and touched the tip of her ear with his muzzle. “Yes, I do. This is all meant to be. However much I wish things could be different.”

Half Moon let out a long sigh. Closing her eyes, she leaned against Jayfeather. “You’re going to leave me again, aren’t you?”

Jayfeather nodded. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could stay.” He gave her ear a lick, but there was little comfort in it. “You will be a great Healer,” he went on. “Let the moon and the stars guide you. I promise everything will be okay.”

Half Moon looked up at him. “I believe you, because I trust you,” she whispered.

Jayfeather stepped back, the light of the slender moon spilling around them, turning Half Moon’s white fur to silver. As if there was a voice prompting him from inside his head, he knew what he had to say. “From this moment on, you will be known as the Teller of the Pointed Stones. Others will come after you, moon upon moon upon moon. Choose them well, train them well, and trust the future of your Tribe to them.”

“Tribe?” Half Moon echoed.

“Yes,” Jayfeather replied. “You are a Tribe now, united in loyalty to everything you represent. It won’t be easy, but the other cats will understand what needs to be done to keep you safe here forever.”

“I’ll miss you.” Half Moon’s voice was desolate.

“And I you. I won’t ever forget you, I promise.”

Jayfeather leaned toward her, and their noses touched. If only…Jayfeather thought.

Half Moon was the first to break away. Jayfeather watched as she jumped neatly down beside the waterfall, paused at the end of the path for one brief glance at him over her shoulder, then vanished into the cave.

“Good-bye, Stoneteller,” Jayfeather murmured. “May the Tribe of Endless Hunting light your path, always.”