“Of course they’re important!” Moth Flight snapped. “But StarClan won’t tell me why. They just keep making me dream the same dream.” She lapped at the moss crossly.
“Perhaps, if you describe the dream exactly, we can work out what it means,” Pebble Heart urged.
Moth Flight swallowed back her anger. “I wake up at the Moonstone. And two cats come into the cave.”
“Do you recognize them?”
“No.” Moth Flight narrowed her eyes as the dream grew more vivid in her mind. “One of the cats sits at the Moonstone and, when the moonlight strikes it, the spirit-cats come.”
“StarClan?”
“I guess,” Moth Flight told him. “They have starry pelts but I don’t recognize any of them.”
“Go on.” Pebble Heart’s pelt twitched along his spine.
“The starry cats approach the living cat and, one at a time, they touch his head with their muzzle.” She shuddered. “It seems to hurt a lot. The real cat jerks like he’s been hit by lightning, but he doesn’t flinch away. He’s not scared. He just lets the spirit-cats touch him, one after another and at the end, he looks stronger. Kind of proud, like he’s been given a special gift.”
“Is it always a tom?”
Moth Flight shook her head. “The first time, it was a she-cat.
I’d seen her before in a different dream. She was dead and then she came back to life.”
Pebble Heart shifted his paws, his gaze clouding with thought. “What gift could StarClan give a living cat?”
Moth Flight shrugged. “I just know it looks painful. I don’t think
“Really?” Pebble Heart’s ear twitched. “But
Moth Flight returned his gaze, her heart twisting. “I can’t endure losing Micah.” Her mew cracked.
Pebble Heart got to his paws. “Why don’t you come and visit Juniper Branch with me? She’s expecting Raven Pelt’s kits and I promised to check on her. She’s been having pains.”
“When are the kits due?”
“Not for another half moon.” Pebble Heart flicked his tail.
“Join me. This will be the first litter I’ve helped with. We can both learn a lot.”
Moth Flight frowned. Pebble Heart was clearly trying to distract her from her grief. “No.” She dug her paws deeper into the nest. “I’m staying here.”
“Some fresh air might help you feel better.”
“I don’t
Pebble Heart tipped his head sympathetically. “Okay. You rest. I guess there’s no rush.”
Moth Flight watched him duck out of the den, uncertain whether she wanted to be alone.
She opened her eyes into another dream. She was standing in a wide meadow. The grass was wilting and the flowers had died. Mist swirled across the ground and swallowed the sky. She glanced around, anxiety creeping beneath her fur as she strained to see through the murky fog. What was hiding there? Her heart quickened as she saw a shape. Broad shoulders, pricked ears, a long tail. It was a tom.
“Hello?” Moth Flight tasted the air warily.
Micah’s scent washed her tongue.
“Micah!” She raced toward the shadowy figure in the mist, the scent growing stronger as she neared. “It’s me! Moth
Flight!”
The tom didn’t turn but kept moving, swinging his head from side to side as though searching.
“Micah!” She was only a tail-length away. Surely he could hear her! She caught up with him and dodged in front of him, trying desperately to catch his eye.
He walked through her as though she were part of the mist.
Her heart dropped like a stone. “No!” Rage swept through her. Why was she so powerless in her dreams? Helplessly, she watched Micah move through the mist, heading one way, then the other, his ears pricked, his mouth open.
She woke, trembling, and jerked up her head.
Sun Shadow was sitting beside her nest. “You were dreaming.”
Moth Flight blinked at him, the mist from her dream still fogging her thoughts. “What are you doing here?” She pushed herself to her paws. “Do you want your nest back?”
“No.” His whiskers twitched. “I thought you might want something to eat.”
“Pebble Heart brought me something earlier.” She scanned the edge of the nest but the mouse had gone.
“I gave it to Mouse Ear,” Sun Shadow told her. “He likes mice best.”
Moth Flight’s belly rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since Micah died. “Did you bring me something?” She looked hopefully over the side of her nest, surprised to feel hungry. Guilt flickered beneath her fur. Her stomach was acting like nothing had changed.
“Come hunting with me.” Sun Shadow nodded toward the den entrance where afternoon sunlight was turning the brambles golden. “You can catch your own prey.”