Moth Flight’s Vision

Tall Shadow’s expression was unreadable as she gazed at Sun Shadow. “May Moth Flight have your den?”

“Of course.” Sun Shadow glanced over his shoulder toward the brambles. “Should I fetch some fresh moss for the nest?”

“Don’t bother.” Moth Flight brushed past him. She didn’t care where she lay, just so long as it was away from the prying gaze of the other cats. She ducked into the shadows, relieved to find the den cozy. Its bramble walls encircled a nest woven from pine sprigs. She climbed into it, feeling silky needles beneath her paws. It was surprisingly soft to curl into and she settled deep inside, letting the pine and bramble muffle the murmuring of the cats outside.

“Will she be here long?”

“Why did she come here?”

Then everything fell quiet. Moth Flight imagined that Tall Shadow had silenced her Clanmates with a stare. “She came here for kindness.”

A moment later, Pebble Heart nosed his way into Moth

Flight’s den. He was carrying a leaf bundle in his jaws. As he dropped it beside Moth Flight’s nest, it unfurled to reveal a few tiny poppy seeds. “Dappled Pelt brought these for you. She says they’ll help you rest.”

“She’s here?” Moth Flight peered toward the den entrance.

“She didn’t stay,” Pebble Heart told her. “She says you need peace more than sympathy right now.”

“How did she find me?”

“She was taking these to the moor and met Wind Runner and Gorse Fur.”

Moth Flight felt her heart prick with gratitude for her medicine cat friends. Except Micah isn’t one of us anymore. She closed her eyes, frightened even to think. Each thought seemed to remind her of Micah. She wanted to block out every memory and pretend that he was still alive in the forest, tending to his Clanmates and thinking of her. She leaned over the side of her nest and lapped up the poppy seeds.

Pebble Heart stiffened. “She said just two or three.”

“I want to sleep until the pain stops.” Moth Flight gazed at him wearily.

“I’ll sit with you.”

“No. I need to be alone.”

“Then I’ll check on you in a while.”

Moth Flight tucked her nose onto her paws and closed her eyes. Blackness came as a relief. She flattened her ears, blocking out the calling of the birds overhead and the sound of paw steps outside the den. She wished the darkness would swallow her completely and quench the pain blazing in her heart and scorching deep in her belly.

Her thoughts began to slow as the poppy took hold. She heard Pebble Heart’s fur brush the den entrance as he left, then felt herself drifting into sleep.

She opened her eyes to find herself back at the Moonstone.

No! Not again. Weariness dragged at her bones. Grief weighed in her heart like a stone. I don’t want to dream.

Paw steps brushed rock as two cats entered the cave. A small dark gray she-cat whose brilliant blue eyes sparkled in the gloom, and a flame-pelted tom.

Moth Flight stared at them blankly. She didn’t even try to speak. They’d never hear her. This was just another dream, like the dream of the other blue-gray she-cat, and the dark tom who’d shown such scorn for his ancestors. She glanced up at the hole in the roof, unsurprised to see the edge of the moon nudging into view. In a few moments the Moonstone would light up and the spirit-cats would come. The flame-pelted tom crouched before the Moonstone and touched his nose to it. The gray she-cat stepped away and Moth Flight narrowed her eyes, preparing for the explosion of moonlight.

When it came, she hardly flinched as the light blinded her.

As it faded, she gazed around. Trees had replaced the stone walls of the cave; but this wasn’t ShadowClan’s forest. She was in the Fourtrees clearing. The flame-pelted tom stood at the foot of the great rock, his gray companion hanging back as stars swirled overhead.

Moth Flight watched them whirl against the night sky, spiraling down toward the clearing.

The flame-pelted tom backed away, his pelt bristling with alarm. Didn’t he know that these were the spirit-cats come to share with him?

The stars spun, melting into one another as they neared the ground, until they blazed like white fire.

Moth Flight blinked as cats emerged from the silver flames, their starry pelts more brilliant than ever. As they padded across the clearing, the white fire faded behind them.

The flame-pelted tom blinked at them, his eyes lighting in recognition. He lifted his tail and Moth Flight saw joy warm his gaze.

A golden tom padded forward, his thick fur like a mane around his head.

The flame-pelted tom greeted him. They exchanged words

Moth Flight could not hear. Then the golden tom reached out his starry muzzle and touched the tom’s head.

The tom jerked as though fire seared him.

This is just like the others.

Moth Flight frowned. Why did she keep dreaming this, and always with different cats?