Squirrelflight's Hope

CHAPTER 26

Squirrelflight’s thoughts raced as darkness enclosed her. What if the pond was bottomless? Would she drown? She glanced back toward the surface, but it was hidden in shadow. She forced herself on. If she could see ThunderClan in these waters, there had to be a way through. The weight of the water crushed her fur. Blood roared in her ears. Panic shrilled in her pelt as her lungs screamed for air. I must go back! She floundered, jerking her muzzle around, looking for escape. In the shadows, she glimpsed an opening. She pushed toward it, but tangled roots blocked the way, and only deeper shadow lay beyond. She spun around, the weight of the water tugging at her limbs. Was there any way out?

Hope flashed in her chest as she spotted a light in the distance. She kicked out, pushing herself toward it, and pressed her mouth tighter shut, fighting the urge to breathe. Sparkpelt! Bramblestar! She had to get back to them. Dizzy with fear, she fought on.

Slowly, as though she were waking from a nightmare, the chill eased and the water loosened its grip. She felt weightless. Her hunger for breath vanished as the water around her seemed to dissolve into air. She pushed faster toward the light glittering ahead, feeling its warmth as it embraced her. The shadows melted away, and she felt earth grow solid beneath her paws.

She looked around. The ThunderClan camp! She was standing in the clearing. Afternoon sunshine washed her pelt as she watched her Clanmates move around her. Berrynose picked a shrew from the fresh-kill pile. Bristlepaw and Thriftpaw dragged old bedding from the elders’ den, while Leafshade pawed fallen leaves into a pile at the edge of the clearing. They worked quietly, and Squirrelflight could sense sadness like rain in the air, ruffling fur and shadowing gazes.

She stood still, expecting at any moment to be seen, but her Clanmates seemed unaware of her presence.

“Do you want the rest?” Stormcloud pushed a half-eaten mouse toward Hollytuft. “I’m not very hungry.”

“Neither am I.” Hollytuft gazed dully at the mouse.

Squirrelflight felt suddenly far away. Loneliness rang like an echo in her chest. She pushed it away and hurried to the nursery.

Inside, Sparkpelt lay in her nest while Daisy played with the kits. Sorrelstripe and her kits were outside.

“Come on, Flamekit.” Daisy ducked down and encouraged the black tom-kit to climb onto her back, where Finchkit was already sitting.

Finchkit puffed out her chest. “I got here first.”

“Only because you pushed me out of the way!” Flamekit flicked his tail indignantly and scrambled up beside her.

Finchkit tried to bat him away as he barged past her. “Hey! I want to go in front.”

“No fighting!” Daisy scolded. “There’s enough room for both of you.”

Squirrelflight glanced at Sparkpelt. Wasn’t she going to tell her kits to behave? Sparkpelt didn’t move, her gaze blank as though she was hardly aware of Daisy or her kits. Squirrelflight hurried across the den and crouched beside her. “Sparkpelt! Your kits need you!” Flamekit and Finchkit had a Clan to take care of them, but they still needed their mother. Didn’t Sparkpelt realize what she was missing? “Don’t give in to grief.” Squirrelflight remembered the closeness she had felt with her kits—it had always made her heart sing. “Sparkpelt!”

Sparkpelt’s ear twitched, but her gaze didn’t change. She doesn’t even know I’m here! Frustrated, Squirrelflight backed away as Daisy rolled, purring, to the ground, and sent Finchkit and Flamekit tumbling into the soft depths of her nest.

They squealed with delight and scrambled out.

“Do it again!” Finchkit clawed her way back onto Daisy’s shoulders. Flamekit clambered after her.

Sparkpelt didn’t move.

Heart pounding, Squirrelflight ducked out of the den. I have to live. Sparkpelt needs me. She hurried to the medicine den and pushed through the brambles. The small hollow was gloomy despite the sunlight seeping down from the opening above the pool. Alderheart leaned into one of the nests, and as Squirrelflight padded closer, she could see him press his ear to the flank of the she-cat inside. Unease wormed through her pelt as she saw her body, unmoving. Leafpool lay beside her, and Jayfeather crouched with his chin resting on the edge of the nest. His blind blue gaze seemed empty of hope. If only he knew that Leafpool was probably chasing Cinderpelt across meadows in StarClan now, energy pulsing through her paws.

“Is there any herb we haven’t tried?” Alderheart blinked at Jayfeather expectantly.

Jayfeather stared ahead. “We’ve tried everything. We can only hope now.”

Squirrelflight wondered if prayers were any use. StarClan seemed as helpless to change destiny as any living cat. Her heart filled with love for Jayfeather and Alderheart. It seemed that they hadn’t moved for days. She’d been a mother to both of them, and her heart broke to see their sadness. She padded to Jayfeather’s side, the memory of StarClan’s judgment still fresh in her thoughts. Why should such a deceitful cat have a place in StarClan? How must it have felt for Jayfeather to discover that she wasn’t his mother? She’d lied to him since birth. Leafpool had too. Was that why he was so sharp with his Clanmates? Had bitterness hollowed out his heart? And yet she knew there was warmth there. His harshness was like snow in leaf-bare, hiding buds that would blossom when greenleaf returned. I have to live! She had so much still to share with him. “I’m sorry we deceived you,” she whispered, wondering if there was any way he might hear. He is a medicine cat, after all. “It was wrong of us. But I hope that one day you will let go of the hurt we caused you.” She swished her tail along his spine, hope sparking in her chest as she saw his pelt smooth a little.

Movement in the shadows at the edge of the den made her stiffen. Bramblestar had been there all along! She could taste his scent, but it was faint, as though he were far away. He padded to the nest where her body lay and sat beside Alderheart. “I wish I’d listened to her.” Bramblestar’s mew was husky with grief. Alderheart glanced at him, his pelt ruffling self-consciously as Bramblestar went on. “I ignored how strongly she felt. I didn’t want to hear about the Sisters. It made things too complicated. It was easier just to think about the Clans. But Squirrelflight could see beyond that. She knew that honor doesn’t mean anything if it can’t reach beyond our borders. Any cat can respect those they know and love. But respecting cats we don’t understand is truly being a warrior.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Alderheart murmured. “You were fighting for your Clan.”

“But Squirrelflight was my deputy,” Bramblestar argued. “And my mate. I should have taken her opinion seriously instead of brushing it aside.” His shoulders drooped. “If she dies, I don’t know if I can carry on being leader. I will be responsible for her death. I am not fit to lead my Clanmates if I don’t listen to them fairly.”

“No!” Squirrelflight darted to his side. “ThunderClan is more important than I am. Who else can lead it like you do?” She stared at him, willing him to hear, her heart aching with love for him, but he stared hopelessly at his paws.

“How did we lose sight of what mattered?” His mew was barely a whisper, but Squirrelflight could hear it as loudly as the wail of a kit. “Now I can feel it as strongly as ever. How did I forget how much I loved her?”

Squirrelflight pressed her muzzle against his. It felt like no more than air. But his scent was stronger now. It filled her mouth, bathed her tongue, flooded her chest. “Our love will always be there,” she breathed urgently. The ache in her heart seemed to draw his scent deeper. “Even when we lose sight of it, our love will still be there.”

Bramblestar slumped as though defeated.

Alderheart shifted his paws anxiously. “I’m sure she knew that you still loved her.” But he looked away, as though uncertain of his words. He got to his paws and headed for the entrance. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Squirrelflight hurried after the young tom as he nosed his way through the brambles. “I’m coming back!” she called after him as he padded into the clearing. Jayfeather had seemed comforted by her presence. Maybe Alderheart, too, could sense her assurances in some way? He crossed the camp. “Don’t worry.” She ducked after him through the entrance tunnel. “I’ll find my way back, I promise.”

Outside camp, a warm breeze tugged leaves from the trees. Alderheart paused on the slope and looked up as they showered around him. He seemed to be searching the canopy. What was he hoping to see? Squirrelflight’s heart leaped. Was he looking for a sign from StarClan? A sign! That was how StarClan communicated with the medicine cats while they were awake—with an omen. Could she send him one? Something to tell him she was okay and was trying to get home?

She looked around frantically. Could she affect anything in the forest? She darted among the trees and pushed through ferns, hoping to stir them. They didn’t move, but a blackbird shrilled an alarm above her head. Could it sense her? She spotted it calling from the branch of an oak and raced toward the trunk. It fluttered away as she neared. She could scare prey! She spun around, her heart pounding. Alderheart was still standing outside the camp, gazing upward. She had to be quick. She zigzagged between the ferns, hoping to flush out a mouse. Bark splinters sprinkled her back. She looked up. A squirrel was bobbing along the branch above her head. A squirrel! It was perfect. If she could send it running across Alderheart’s path, he might see it and wonder what a squirrel was doing so close to the camp. Prey was usually wise enough to stay clear. He would have to realize it was a sign! She leaped for the trunk and hooked her claws into the bark. Not long ago she’d been chasing squirrels in StarClan. This was far more serious. She had to let ThunderClan know that she was trying to get home.

The squirrel looked over its shoulder as she hauled herself onto the branch. Confusion clouded its gaze, but its pelt fluffed in alarm. If it couldn’t see her, it could sense her. It raced to the end and leaped into the branches of the next tree. Squirrelflight chased after it, flinging herself from the oak, paws outstretched. Her heart leaped into her throat as she glided through the air. With a gasp, she caught hold of the flimsy twigs jutting from a branch and jerked herself forward, scrabbling onto the thicker wood beyond. The squirrel was near the trunk. It looked up. She couldn’t let it climb higher. She had to chase it toward Alderheart. She pushed hard against the bark, driving herself forward, and leaped for the trunk. Startled, the squirrel turned, fear-scent pulsing from it, and flung itself from the branch. It landed nimbly on the forest floor. Squirrelflight jumped after it, landing as softly as a shadow. She darted in front of it, startling it into turning, then chased it toward the camp.

Excitement fizzed through her pelt as it darted past Alderheart. His gaze flashed toward it, his eyes widening in surprise. She pulled up and blinked at him. Had he understood the message? It’s me, Squirrelflight. I’m coming home.

Alderheart seemed to freeze. He stared after the squirrel; then he shook out his pelt and padded back into camp.

Frustration knotted her belly. Please understand! Was this what it was like to be a StarClan cat—trying to communicate with the living, and never being sure if they understood? For the first time she wondered how many signs from StarClan they missed every day without knowing.

She sat back on her haunches. She’d done all she could. Her pelt prickled with unease. What if she could never get back? Would she be stranded in the forest forever, like the dead cats the Sisters saw? She shivered and pushed the thought away. What had happened to the Sisters? The battle seemed to have left the rest of ThunderClan unscarred. Had the Sisters escaped so lightly? What had happened to Moonlight’s kits?

As her thoughts quickened, the forest blurred around her. She blinked, suddenly dizzy, and found herself in the Sisters’ camp. Startled, she looked around. Hawkwing was yowling orders to a SkyClan patrol.

“We’ll build the warriors’ den over there.” He nodded toward a space between the birthing den and the den where Squirrelflight and Leafstar had slept. “And that gorse bush will make a good den for the elders.”

Macgyver and Plumwillow sniffed around the gorse. Macgyver slid beneath the branches and popped out a moment later.

“We can dig out a hollow around the stem,” he told Hawkwing. “The earth is dry and sandy. It won’t take long.”

Sandynose pushed through the fern entrance. “There are plenty of brambles and vines we can gather.” He padded toward Hawkwing. “We can get the camp weatherproof by leaf-bare.”

“Good.” Hawkwing looked pleased.

Squirrelflight tasted the air for faint signs of the Sisters. Where were they? SkyClan had clearly claimed this land as their own. Her heart quickened. Had they driven the Sisters away?

She hurried across the clearing and followed the trail of tattered bushes to the site of the last battle. Her tail twitched as she saw the cave where the Sisters had taken shelter. It was a pile of rubble and stone now, branches sticking out like bones from rotted prey. She could see where earth had been dug out. Was that where her Clanmates had pulled out her body and Leafpool’s?

“Hey!” A mew made her jump. She spun, unsheathing her claws, instinctively dropping into a defensive warrior stance. Then she realized—some cat could see her!

She blinked as she saw the ghostly shape of a tabby she-cat padding from beside the landslide. She could see through it. She shivered, her pelt spiking. This cat was dead.

The cat lifted her tail in a friendly greeting. “You’re new here.” She dipped her head as she neared. “Did you die recently?”

Squirrelflight bristled. “I’m not dead.” She lifted her muzzle.

“Really?” The tabby reached out a paw and swept it through Squirrelflight’s forelegs.

Squirrelflight leaped away. “Hey!” Energy buzzed through her paws like the sparks from dry grass.

“You look dead to me,” the tabby mewed.

“It’s just temporary,” Squirrelflight told her. “While my body mends.”

“Sure.” The tabby sniffed, clearly unconvinced. “My name’s Blade.”

“I’m Squirrelflight.”

“Hi, Squirrelflight.” Blade nodded politely. “How did you die—I mean”—she corrected herself—“get injured?”

Squirrelflight nodded toward the landslide. “I was in there when it collapsed.”

“I hope it didn’t hurt too much.” The tabby swished her tail. “I got hit by a monster. I was dead before I could feel anything.”

“Did you live around here?” Had this cat seen the Sisters?

“Close enough.” Blade shrugged. “I lived with Twolegs, beyond the hills there.” She nodded toward the cliff face.

“You’re a kittypet?” Squirrelflight blinked at her.

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m a warrior,” Squirrelflight told her.

“Really?” The tabby’s eyes widened. “Is that why you have such a weird name?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “I’ve never met a warrior before. Especially not a dead one. I wondered where you went after you died. I’ve only seen the Sisters since I died.”

Squirrelflight pricked her ears. “Do you know the Sisters?”

“Quite well.” Blade sat down and began to wash her ears. “They can see dead cats,” she mewed between licks. “I used to chat quite often with some of them.”

“Who?”

“One was called Moonlight,” Blade told her. “And I think another was Tempest?” She looked unsure.

Squirrelflight leaned forward. “Do you know what happened to them?”

“Those other cats.” Blade jerked her muzzle toward the Sisters’ camp. “They’re warriors too, right?”

“Yes.” Squirrelflight’s pelt twitched.

“When they came to look at the mess after the battle, they took the Sisters away. They were pretty beaten up.”

“Did they take Moonlight away?”

“I guess.”

“And her kits?” Squirrelflight stared desperately at Blade.

“Yes.” Blade tipped her head.

But no cat died, right? Squirrelflight was too anxious to ask. She searched the kittypet’s eyes. She’d have said if any cat had died, surely? “Where did they go?”

Blade shrugged. “I heard the big gray tom tell his friends to take them back to camp.”

The SkyClan camp? Squirrelflight could hardly believe her ears. Of course—Leafstar hadn’t let her warriors take part in the battle. If they were to shelter with any Clan, it would be with SkyClan. Hope flashed beneath her pelt. Were the Sisters safe at last?

“Thanks, Blade.” She turned and began to head for the forest. She had to see for herself if the Sisters were okay. The valley became hazy around her, and the ground seemed to shift beneath her paws. A moment later she found herself in the SkyClan camp. She flicked her tail. This instant traveling was useful! She wished she could do it while she was alive.

Pain burst inside her head like burning ice. She winced, her paws trembling beneath her, as it hardened and grew sharper. Closing her eyes, she stood still, relief melting inside her as slowly it eased. What was that? Foreboding welled at the edge of her thoughts. She pushed it away. Perhaps Alderheart was trying a new treatment.

She forced herself to focus on the SkyClan camp, startled as Fidgetflake brushed past her, oblivious as he sent sparks fizzing through Squirrelflight’s fur. Squirrelflight shook her pelt out as Fidgetflake ducked into the medicine den. Quickly, she followed, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the shadows inside.

Moonlight was lying in a wide, bracken nest while Frecklewish sorted herbs beside her. The gray she-cat’s eyes were closed, and gashes crisscrossed her flank. Her muzzle was clogged with dried blood.

“Has she woken yet?” Fidgetflake asked softly.

Frecklewish shook her head. “I wish she were doing better.” She tore a bunch of dried marigold apart. “I’ve put new ointment on her wounds, but the infection is hard to get rid of”

“Her kits are doing well,” Fidgetflake told her. “They’re nursing happily, and Violetshine says she’s got plenty of milk now that her own kits are weaned. I’ve told Leafstar that she’ll need extra fresh-kill to keep her strength up.”

“Good.” Frecklewish crumbled leaves into a pile. “How are the other Sisters?”

“Quiet.” Fidgetflake glanced toward the entrance. “They wish they weren’t here, but they know it’s the best place for Moonlight.”

“I just hope we can heal her.” Frecklewish’s eyes glittered with worry as she glanced at the gray she-cat.

Fidgetflake stiffened and blinked suddenly at Squirrelflight.

Squirrelflight froze. Can she see me? Her breath caught in her throat. Then she realized that the young medicine cat wasn’t staring at her; she was staring straight through her.

“I can smell ThunderClan.” Fidgetflake frowned.

“It’s probably left over from the battle,” Frecklewish told her.

As she spoke, the entrance rustled. Tree poked his head in. “I’m going hunting. Does Moonlight need fresh-kill yet?”

“Not yet.”

As Frecklewish got to her paws, Tree’s eyes widened. Surprise flashed in his gaze. Squirrelflight’s pelt spiked with alarm. He’s looking straight at me! Hope flashed in her heart. Of course! He can see ghosts.

“Tree?” Frecklewish narrowed her eyes. “Are you okay?”

He blinked and shook out his pelt, snatching his gaze away from Squirrelflight. “Y-yeah,” he mewed. He ducked out of the den.

Squirrelflight followed him out. “You can see me, can’t you?” She followed him as he padded quickly across the camp.

“I can’t talk to you here,” he hissed under his breath. He led her out of camp and a little way into the forest. Scanning the trees, he halted. He stared at her, his eyes rounding with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Squirrelflight frowned. What was he sorry about?

“That you died,” he mewed. “I knew you got hurt, but we all hoped you’d survive.”

“I’m not dead yet.” Squirrelflight swished her tail. “I’m kind of … in between StarClan and ThunderClan at the moment.”

Tree’s ears twitched. “I didn’t know that was possible,” he mewed.

“Neither did I.” Squirrelflight sat down. “But apparently it is.”

“Is Moonlight with you?” He peered past her. “She’s been unconscious for days. Frecklewish isn’t sure she’s going to make it.”

“I haven’t seen her,” Squirrelflight told him, wondering suddenly if Moonlight’s spirit was roaming the forest nearby. As she glanced between the trees, another pain seemed to pierce her eyes and stab into her head. It burned along her spine, and she staggered, gasping at the intensity.

“Squirrelflight?” Tree stepped closer, alarm spiking through his pelt. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” She took a breath as the pain eased a little. She was trembling.

“You started to fade.” Tree sounded scared.

Squirrelflight’s blinked at him, her paws pricking. “I don’t think I can stay here.” Had Alderheart found a way to wake her at last, or was StarClan tugging her back? Am I dying? Her heart lurched. “If I don’t wake up,” she breathed urgently as the forest began to glitter around her, “you have to give Bramblestar a message.”

Tree leaned toward her. “What?”

“You must tell him to go on without me. He has to lead ThunderClan. They need him. Tell him I love him and I’m waiting for him in StarClan. Tell Sparkpelt that I’ve seen Larksong. He’s named their kit Flickerkit. They’re with Firestar and Sandstorm.” Starlight filled the forest, dazzling her. “Tell Alderheart …” Pain flared in her head once more, and before she could finish, darkness swallowed her.