Moth Flight’s Vision

Moth Flight knew that Turtle Tail was Pebble Heart’s mother. She’d been killed by a monster while trying to rescue her kits. She died the day I was born. Moth Flight felt weak with anguish as she saw joy and grief glisten like sunshine through rain in the tortoiseshell’s green gaze.

Turtle Tail touched her nose to her kit’s head. “I always knew you were special,” she murmured. “Take care of them all, my dear.”

Pebble Heart stirred, his ear twitching as his mother’s muzzle grazed it. Then he huffed and turned in his sleep, and the vision faded.

Gray Wing moved to Turtle Tail’s side and guided her away, his tail curled protectively across her spine.

Moth Flight watched the pair take their place among their companions. Who next? Medicine cats had been chosen for every Clan except SkyClan. She looked back at the stone and blinked as yellow fur shimmered into view. There’s no yellow cat in SkyClan. She stiffened as she recognized the slender shoulders and smooth back of the tom. “Micah!”

Shock pulsed through her. Unlike the others, Micah wasn’t asleep. He sat, alert, gazing ahead, as though waiting.

He’s waiting for me.

A small tabby she-cat brushed in front of Half Moon.

“Petal.” Half Moon purred fondly as she passed.

Moth Flight stared as Petal approached the vision of Micah.

“How can he be a medicine cat?” she gasped. “He doesn’t belong to any Clan!”

“Nor did I, once.” Petal blinked at her, her eyes glittering in the light from the stone. She leaned forward and brushed her muzzle against Micah’s cheek. “Protect your Clan as though they had raised you.”

Micah didn’t flinch, but carried on staring, serenely unaware that spirit-cats were watching him. Moth Flight wanted to call out to him that she was safe and she could see him. But she knew he wouldn’t hear.

As Micah faded away, Half Moon stepped forward once more. “You must return to your Clan now, Moth Flight. Tell the cats what we have shown you.”

Moth Flight stiffened. “All of them?” She’d have to convince every cat that what she’d seen was real. How would she make them believe her?

“Just speak your truth, Moth Flight.” Half Moon’s mew was firm. “Have faith in who and what you are.”

I am a medicine cat. Moth Flight lifted her chin as the white cat went on.

“Next half-moon, and every half-moon after that, you and the other medicine cats must return here and we’ll speak again.”

“Next half-moon? I’ll need more time that that!” Moth

Flight spluttered. She pictured Tall Shadow sitting sternly in her bramble den, and Clear Sky’s thick tail flicking scornfully. And Thunder! He was the most powerful tom she’d ever seen. She’d never even spoken to the mysterious River Ripple. And Wind Runner…

Her paws felt suddenly hot against the icy stone. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to convince my own mother! “I can’t do it!”

Her heart pounded in her chest. “I’ll never be able to do it!”

Chapter 12

Half Moon whisked her tail irritably. “Have faith in yourself!”

Moth Flight’s hackles lifted. That was easy for her to say!

You’re dead! What do you have to lose? “My Clan thinks I’m feather-headed enough,” she snapped. “If I go back with stories about talking to spirit-cats and telling them that they’re supposed to have medicine cats and I should be one, they’ll think I’m a complete birdbrain!”

“The moonlight will be gone soon. We don’t have long,” Half Moon warned. “This is your destiny, whether you want it or not. You have no choice but to follow it. Every Clan’s destiny depends on you, though they don’t know it yet. But they will.

And there will come a time when they will listen to you and you alone. I can tell you this, but it’s up to you to earn their respect.”

“How?” Moth Flight felt frantic. At any moment the moon might pass over the hole and the cave would be plunged into darkness. She’d be alone, to face the Clans by herself. “I haven’t managed to earn any cat’s respect so far! Wind Runner told me I was a danger to my Clan. I lost Slate’s kits. I nearly got Gorse Fur killed by a monster. I’m useless!” Her mew broke as hopelessness overwhelmed her. She dropped her gaze to the moon-washed stone.

Downy fur moved in front of her. She lifted her head to see a tom-kit nosing past Half Moon. He was tiny, and looked hardly more than a day old, although his eyes were open and bright. A she-kit stopped beside him, a little bigger, but less than a moon old. Moth Flight blinked at them, shocked to see kits among the spirit-cats, but then her nose twitched. She recognized their scent. For a moment she was back in Wind Runner’s nest, nuzzling for milk at her mother’s belly beside Dust Muzzle.

“Morning Whisker? Is that you?” She stared at the she-kit.

Morning Whisker had died in the sickness that swept the Clans.