“Of course I’ll wait for you!” He looked up from his mouse sharply. “Why would I leave?”
She shrugged. “It’s cold. I thought you might want to find shelter.”
“We’ll find shelter together, once you get back.”
Moth Flight felt her throat tighten with gratitude. “Thank you,” she croaked.
She took longer to finish her second mouse. She wanted desperately to see inside the cave, but fear was tugging her back. Her heart pounded in her chest.
Swallowing her final mouthful, she tried to steady her breathing.
Micah was washing beside her, his mouse long gone. She felt soothed by the easy, rhythmic strokes of his tongue.
“Are you ready?” His mew made her jump.
Moth Flight nodded, her eyes wide.
“You’ll be fine,” Micah promised. They stood up together and he padded beside her as she climbed up the slope.
Scrabbling the last few tail-lengths, she leaped onto the lip of the cave. The stone was smooth beneath her paws. Micah jumped up next to her and peered inside. “It’s a good thing you’ve got whiskers,” he muttered. “You’re going to need them to tell where you’re going.”
She glanced into the darkness. “I’ve got a nose too, and ears,” she murmured, trying to reassure herself. “I’ll be okay.”
“I know.” Micah caught her eye, his gaze solemn. She felt his breath on her muzzle as he leaned forward and touched his nose to hers. “But be careful.”
“I will.” Turning away, Moth Flight padded into the cave.
It felt huge—high and wide enough for a Twoleg. She sniffed the air tentatively, but there was no living creature in here except her. All she could smell was stone and stagnant water. She padded deeper into the gloom, straining to see how far it reached into Highstones. Blackness lay ahead and, as she padded onward and the weak starlight faded behind her, she realized that this was a tunnel, not a cave. As darkness swallowed her, she waited for fear to flare in her belly, but none came. She felt curiously calm, her paw steps steady on the smooth stone floor.
A chill reached through her pelt. This sunless place felt colder than a snowbound night on the moor. She opened her mouth and let the damp air bathe her tongue, tasting the tang of stone as freezing air filled her chest.
The ground sloped beneath her paws. Stone touched her whiskers on one side and she let it guide her as the tunnel began to bend. She was blind here, though her eyes were wide open, straining to see any glimpse of light. But, with blackness on every side, she could only follow the twists and turns by touch as the tunnel spiraled down into the earth. She was surprised to feel peace spread from her belly through every hair on her pelt.
It was as though the stone welcomed her and was leading her deeper into its heart. She listened, ears stretched, and heard a distant drop of water resound on hard rock.
She looked up and saw the hole in the roof. Stars flickered beyond and she could see the moon sliding into sight.
Moth Flight glanced expectantly at the rock. She knew what would happen next.
As the moon lifted higher, the rock suddenly sparked into light.
Moth Flight narrowed her eyes against the glare.
The great stone was glittering like countless dewdrops sparkling in sunlight. The cave shimmered in its glow.
Pushing away disappointment, she padded to the spot where the gray she-cat had lain, and pressed her belly to the icy floor.
Tucking her paws beneath her, she tried to imagine the she-cat’s warmth still lingering in the stone. Her pelt tingled with excitement.
Chapter 11