Sign Of The Moon

Jayfeather jerked awake to darkness and the endless dripping of water in the Cave of Pointed Stones. Scrambling to his paws, he ran into the main cavern and down the tunnel that led into Stoneteller’s den. The old cat’s scent wreathed around him as he halted, panting. Jayfeather could hear Stoneteller’s breath bubbling as he tried to speak.

“I see them now!” Every word was a struggle. “My ancestors! They have not abandoned us! I am so sorry…”

His voice faded. Jayfeather waited for the hoarse breathing to start up again, but there was only silence. He stood with his head bowed. “Rest well, Stoneteller,” he murmured. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting is waiting for you.”

He padded out into the cavern and picked up Wing’s scent as the she-cat approached. “Is everything okay?” she mewed.

“No,” Jayfeather replied. “Stoneteller has died.”

Wing let out a wail of grief and terror; disturbed by the noise, the rest of the Tribe began to stir. Their dismay churned around Jayfeather like waves: grief and loss and the fear of being without a leader.

“Did Stoneteller name his successor before he died?” Wing asked.

A tense silence slammed down in the cave. Jayfeather realized that the whole Tribe was waiting to hear his answer. He took a deep breath.

“Yes,” he meowed. “Yes, he did.”

With the tumble of the waterfall beside him, Jayfeather led the way out of the cavern and up to the top of the cliff. The Tribe followed him. Some of the cats carried Stoneteller’s body from his den, and laid him on the stones next to the river.

Bird padded up and stood beside Stoneteller’s body. “Farewell, Teller of the Pointed Stones. May you hunt endlessly among the stars with those who watch over us.”

She stepped back, and an expectant silence fell. Jayfeather could feel that the gaze of every cat in the Tribe was fixed on him. He knew what he had to do, but his mind was whirling. He had lied to every one of these cats. Stoneteller had died too soon.

How can I choose the new Healer?

Then he gathered himself. The Tribe of Endless Hunting had known that this would happen. They had faith in him to make the right choice—for the second time. The Healer mustn’t be too young, he thought; the Tribe needed a cat with experience and courage, who had seen these cats through their darkest times and had faith that they could survive. A cat who would put his Tribe before himself, and work tirelessly to keep them safe.

“Crag Where Eagles Nest, stand forward,” he meowed.

“Me?” The shocked exclamation was followed by Crag’s paw steps as he approached Jayfeather; astonishment and doubt flooded from him.

“From this moment on,” Jayfeather declared, “you will be known as the Teller of the Pointed Stones.” His heart twisted with pain as he remembered the last time he had spoken these words. “Others will come after you, moon upon moon upon moon. Choose them well, train them well, and trust the future of your Tribe to them.”

“I am honored to have been chosen.” Crag’s voice was solemn. “I will serve my Tribe until the end of my days.”

Bird padded forward. “Greetings, Stoneteller,” she mewed. “May the Tribe of Endless Hunting watch over you and send you their wisdom.”

She headed down the cliff, her paw steps growing fainter as she jumped from rock to rock, and Talon took her place, acknowledging the new Stoneteller with the same words. Jayfeather waited until all the Tribe had spoken and filed away, back to the cave.

At last, Stoneteller and Jayfeather stood alone on the cliff top.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” the Teller of the Pointed Stones admitted. “Stoneteller—the last one—said nothing to prepare me. But I cannot doubt his choice. I will do my best to honor him, and the rest of the Tribe of Endless Hunting.” He took a deep breath. “It’s so beautiful up here,” he murmured. Jayfeather realized that he must be looking out at the vista of mountain peaks. “But I guess I won’t be seeing it for a while—not until those to-bes finish their training, anyway.”

He sighed faintly and Jayfeather heard his paw steps recede as he headed toward the cave. Suddenly, Jayfeather felt a slight stirring in the air beside him. An achingly familiar sweet scent wreathed around him.

“Half Moon?” he whispered.

He couldn’t see the white she-cat, but he knew that she was there beside him. Her muzzle lightly touched his ear; it felt as if lightning crackled through him.

“You chose well,” she murmured.

Jayfeather swallowed. “I won’t forget you,” he promised.

“And I never forgot you,” Half Moon replied. “Not through all the moons since we last met. Go well, return to your Clan now. Find the fourth.”

As her scent faded away, Jayfeather realized that Squirrelflight, Foxleap, and Dovewing had joined him on the cliff top.

“Can we go home now?” Squirrelflight asked.

“Yes,” Jayfeather told her. “We have done what we had to.”

He waited for the two she-cats to climb back down the rocks and prepared to follow them. But as he cautiously lowered himself over the edge, he heard Half Moon’s voice calling after him.