Moth Flight’s Vision

Behind her, the kits mewled while Raven Pelt and Juniper

Branch purred. The happiness Moth Flight had felt as the kit had come to life beneath her paws disappeared like mist in the wind. Oh, Micah. I miss you so much. Loss hollowed her heart once more. She longed to stop grieving, but how could she? She could never have the life she’d planned with Micah—only emptiness and long days alone. She felt as though all her dreams had died with him.

Chapter 25

Moth Flight scanned the nettle patch. She loved this part of the pine forest. Gaps in the canopy let narrow strips of sunshine reach the mossy forest floor and nettles thrived in the rare light.

Pebble Heart was waiting for her between the ditches that rutted the ground beyond the rise. She’d been with ShadowClan for nearly a moon now and lately had begun helping him gather herbs for his store. She was used to the gloom, although the tang of pinesap had begun to make her queasy.

But she wasn’t ready to go home.

She stretched her muzzle forward and nipped through the base of a fat-looking nettle stem. Then she dragged it over the rise, careful to stay clear of the shivering leaves.

“I think we have enough.” Pebble Heart stepped out of the way as she neared the ditch, leaving room for her to drop it over the edge.

It landed on top of the others and began to wilt slowly into the muddy water.

“Are the ones we soaked yesterday finished?” she asked.

Pebble Heart leaped the next ditch and reached his paw into the next. “Yes,” he called over his shoulder. “No sting left.”

Moth Flight shook out her fur. “I wonder if drying the nettles would get rid of the sting?”

“Drying herbs is easy on the moor,” Pebble Heart hauled up a dripping stem and laid it on the ground. “There’s plenty of wind and sunshine up there. It’s too damp to dry herbs here.”

“How are you going to get through leafbare without a store of dried herbs?”

“Dappled Pelt asked me the same question last night.”

Pebble Heart glanced at her as he hooked another stem from the ditch.

Moth Flight felt a flash of guilt. She’d missed the half-moon gathering at the Moonstone. “What did you tell her?”

“I asked if she could dry some herbs for ShadowClan.” She realized that he was looking at her hopefully. “Would you dry some too? When you return to the moor?” There was a question in his eyes.

Do you want me to leave?

Pebble Heart must have seen worry darken her gaze. “I mean, when you’re ready.”

Will I ever be ready? The ShadowClan cats asked nothing of her. They brought her prey and dipped their heads respectfully, and talked about everyday things, like how the prey was running, or how soon greenleaf was coming this year. Being among them was easy.

Her own Clanmates would be more inquisitive. They’d ask about Micah. And they’d expect her to return to her medicine cat duties. Moth Flight’s belly tightened. She wasn’t ready to look after anyone yet.

When she didn’t answer, Pebble Heart glanced down at the nettle stems. “We missed you at the Moonstone last night.”

“I wanted to come with you.” She had. She knew deep in her belly that being a medicine cat was her destiny. And helping the ShadowClan medicine cat was renewing her confidence. She had a sense of purpose once more, and satisfaction in her work had distracted her from her grief. Since Juniper Branch had kitted, she’d kept a close eye on the kits. She’d taken Pebble Heart to the edge of the oak forest to gather borage to make sure that Juniper Branch had enough milk for them. But she’d felt so weary in the past moon; she crept, exhausted, to her nest every night. The thought of the long trek to Highstones had been daunting. And, if she was being honest with herself, perhaps she wasn’t ready to see Micah among the StarClan cats. That means he’s really gone. “I was tired.”

“I understand.” Pebble Heart’s gaze flickered over her belly.

Had he noticed that her days of resting—eating prey, which other cats had caught—had begun to show in her swollen flanks? Perhaps it was time she pulled herself together and went back to her Clan. Her grief had lost the raw power that had silenced her for days at a time, but she still woke trembling in the night, her longing for Micah so strong that her heart roared in her ears.

“I’m not going to stop being a medicine cat,” she reassured him.

“I didn’t think you would.” He began to straighten the nettle stems.

“The other medicine cats know that, don’t they?”

“Of course.” He plucked a stringy old grass stem from the edge of the ditch and threaded it under the bundle he’d made.

“They told me to tell you not to worry about missing the meeting. They understood.”

“Did StarClan visit with you?” Moth Flight had been avoiding the question since Pebble Heart returned at dawn. Had