Moth Flight’s Vision

A red bushy-tailed tom approached the flame-pelted cat next, sending another spasm through him as he touched his nose to the tom’s head. Then a beautiful silver-pelted she-cat took his place. A lithe tabby tom followed. His touch set the flame-pelted tom’s fur rippling as though he were running through wind.

Why do I keep seeing this? Moth Flight’s paws itched with frustration. What does it mean?

Four more cats approached, each one’s touch scorching through the tom as though it had sparked lightning. And yet, as each spasm ended, the tom stood stronger, his chin higher.

He met the gaze of the last cat with eyes suddenly misted with emotion.

Moth Flight froze as the pretty tortoiseshell padded closer.

Micah looked at me like that. She recognized love in the tom’s bright green eyes. The tortoiseshell’s amber gaze reflected it back with such intensity that Moth Flight’s breath stopped in her throat.

Grief swamped her. He’s in love with a dead cat! As shock jolted through her, she searched the starry ranks. Was Micah here? Would she have a chance to share such a look with him?

She recognized no cat.

Please come! Why couldn’t she make her dreams do what she wanted? She could only stand by, unheard and unseen, and witness what she could not understand.

It’s not fair!

Her throat tightened as she saw the tortoiseshell stretch her muzzle toward the flame-pelted tom.

He met her gaze, his eyes burning with joy and grief.

Her touch made his pelt glow, as though filling him with moonlight. He leaned in to her, unflinching.

Stop! Moth Flight backed away. She couldn’t bear to watch a moment longer. This all meant nothing! She didn’t know these cats! Why should she care? All she wanted was to see Micah, but she couldn’t!

Hissing, she lashed out a forepaw and slashed through the vision of the tortoiseshell. It was like raking starlit water. The light shattered into countless ripples and faded from view.

A wail welling in her throat, Moth Flight struggled into consciousness. Heart burning with loss, she blinked open her eyes into Sun Shadow’s hollow den.

Chapter 23

Moth Flight felt a paw push her shoulder. She struggled awake, her mouth dry, her eyes sticky with sleep.

“Moth Flight?” Pebble Heart sounded worried. “Are you okay?”

She lifted her head groggily and blinked at the dawn sunshine filtering into the den. “I’m…”

Pebble Heart’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m not used to giving poppy seeds,” he admitted. “I was worried you’d sleep for days.”

Moth Flight looked around, surprised by the dark brambles enclosing her nest. Where was the gorse?

A sick feeling hit her belly like rotten prey. “Micah’s dead.”

She stared at Pebble Heart, a tiny spark of hope flickering beneath her pelt. Perhaps she’d dreamed it all.

But the medicine cat’s amber eyes glistened with sympathy.

He leaned down and picked up a wad of dripping moss and laid it on the edge of her nest. “I thought you might be thirsty.”

Sadness swamped Moth Flight as she remembered the pool in Cloud Spots’s den. Micah had still been with her then. She lapped at the moss, her tongue welcoming the moisture.

“I brought you food too.” Pebble Heart draped a mouse over the side of her nest. It was still warm, freshly killed.

Moth Flight wrinkled her nose. “I’m not hungry.”

“But you must eat,” Pebble Heart reasoned.

“Why?” Moth Flight snorted rebelliously. “If I starve, I can join Micah in StarClan.”

“You mustn’t say that!” Pebble Heart’s eyes widened.

“Why not?” Anger rolled deep in Moth Flight’s belly.

“What about your Clanmates? And the other Clans?” Pebble Heart stared at her fiercely. “StarClan shared the secret of the Moonstone with you. You’re important!”

“And Micah’s not?” Moth Flight growled.

Pebble Heart stared at her sadly. “Perhaps he’s supposed to be with them.”

“His destiny,” she muttered bitterly. She pictured the rolling meadows of StarClan’s hunting grounds. Was Micah going to spend forever chasing spirit-rabbits while she worked her paws to the bone taking care of her Clanmates? “What about me?

Does StarClan want me to be lonely? Is that my destiny? Am I just here to carry out their orders? I can’t even get a good night’s sleep because they haunt my dreams! Can’t they give me any peace?”

Pebble Heart’s eye flashed with curiosity. “They haunt your dreams?” he echoed. “How?”

“I dream of spirit-cats doing some dumb ceremony,” Moth

Flight snapped. “The same thing, over and over again, but to different cats.”

Pebble Heart leaned closer. “What cats?”

“Why should I care?” Anger prickled beneath Moth Flight’s pelt.

Pebble Heart nudged the dripping moss with his paw. “Drink some more.”

“Stop trying to make me feel better, because you can’t!”

“I know,” he soothed. “But I want to know more about these dreams. They might be important.”