Moth Flight’s Vision

Fur lifted along Moth Flight’s spine. “Then there’s nothing I can do?” She glanced toward the forest, not waiting for an answer. “Perhaps Cloud Spots will know.”

Dappled Pelt followed her gaze, her eyes dark. “Perhaps.”

She didn’t sound convinced. “Wind Runner’s fate might be for StarClan to decide.”

“No!” What if nothing could save Wind Runner?

Helplessness swamped Moth Flight, the ground seeming to shift beneath her paws. “There must be something I can do! I’m a healer!”

Dappled Pelt dropped her gaze. “Some wounds cannot be healed.”

Moth Flight’s thoughts spun. She stared desperately at Dappled Pelt, but the tortoiseshell was avoiding her gaze.

Suddenly, green wings fluttered at the edge of her vision.

She recognized them at once.

The moth! Turning sharply, she saw it—the beautiful, great moth that had led her to Highstones.

Why had it come back now? She stared at it, energy sparking in her paws. It circled her then flitted upslope, dancing on the breeze as it had all those moons ago, as though it was beckoning her.

Moth Flight glanced at Dappled Pelt. Had she seen it too?

The RiverClan medicine cat was gazing at the moth, her eyes glittering with curiosity.

The moth fluttered farther uphill, and paused again.

“It wants me to follow it,” Moth Flight breathed.

Dappled Pelt leaned forward, her pelt pricking. “Then follow it,” she murmured.

Hope flickering in her chest, Moth Flight raced after the moth.

Did it have the answer she’d been searching for?

Could the green moth show her how to save Wind Runner’s life?

Chapter 33

As Moth Flight followed the moth upslope, a chilly breeze lifted her fur. She glanced over her shoulder and saw clouds rolling in behind her, darkening the sky over the forest and marshes. Rain was coming.

She ran quicker, skirting the camp as the moth fluttered farther and farther ahead.

Wait for me! Moth Flight suddenly realized how tired she was. The days of tending to Wind Runner and the long run back and forth to the river had worn her out. But she had to keep going. The moth was showing her something.

But what? She paused as she reached the high moor, the ground sloping away ahead of her, rolling down into the valley toward Highstones.

The moth flitted on and Moth Flight followed it over the crest of the slope and raced downhill. It wants me to go to Highstones again! Her heart lifted. Perhaps StarClan was waiting there with advice. Were they going to tell her how to cure Wind Runner?

The moth stopped, hovering on the breeze. Then it ducked past Moth Flight, heading back toward the moor.

Moth Flight turned in surprise, skidding on the grass.

“Where are you going?” She raced after it and watched it bob downslope toward the camp. It halted again and shivered in midair while she caught up.

Frustration surged beneath Moth Flight’s pelt. “Where do you want me to go?” she demanded.

The moth bobbed once more toward Highstones. Moth

Flight turned to follow but, the moment she did, the moth headed back toward camp. There, it hung in the air, letting the wind toss it one way, then the other.

“Make up your mind!” Moth Flight froze, her anger melting.

Around her the wind grew stronger, sharp with the scent of rain.

Her dreams of the Moonstone flashed in her mind. The cats she’d seen there had all been accompanied by a Clanmate. And when they arrived, StarClan had given them something. Moth

Flight plucked impatiently at the grass, thinking hard. She knew it must mean something. Something that mattered now! That’s why StarClan had sent the moth to fetch her.

Not just me! Moth Flight understood. As the first drops fell from the darkening clouds, she blinked at the moth. “You want me to bring Wind Runner!” The moth fluttered closer to the camp, as though agreeing. Moth Flight hurried after it. “You want me to lead her to the Moonstone!”

As she yowled into the wind, the moth fluttered higher, its green wings bright against the gray sky. Deep in her belly, Moth

Flight knew she was right. StarClan was waiting to give Wind Runner the same gift they’d given the other cats in her dreams.

Would it save her life?

She had to try. Narrowing her eyes against the thickening rain, Moth Flight raced for camp.

Spotted Fur, Fern Leaf, and Dust Muzzle were carrying fresh prey toward the prey pile. They stared in surprise as she passed them. Swift Minnow was nosing Slate toward the shelter of the camp wall, while Reed Tail slid into Rocky’s den, a wad of comfrey in his jaws.

Black Ear sat proudly beneath the tall rock, ignoring the rain battering his muzzle. A freshly killed rabbit lay beside him.

Honey Pelt, Bubbling Stream, and Spider Paw crowded around him, their pelts soaked. “Look what I caught!” he called to Moth

Flight as she bounded past.

She slowed, glancing at the rabbit.

Bubbling Stream was sniffing it, her ears twitching with excitement. “I’m going to catch a rabbit soon,” she mewed.