Moth Flight's Vision Page 13

  She paused, remembering their journey to Highstones. It was still so vivid in her mind: the sun setting behind the stones; the meal Micah had caught for her before she’d gone into the tunnel. She’d been so nervous, and he’d been so reassuring. That had been the best night of her life. She suddenly tasted the scent of damp stone and imagined the spirit-cats shimmering into view around her. Joy warmed her belly as she pictured how kindly they’d greeted her. You’re special—

  A loud yelp broke into her thoughts. She jerked her muzzle around. A Twoleg burst from its nest and raced toward her. It was barking like an angry dog.

  Moth Flight’s heart seemed to burst. Blind with panic, she snatched up the catmint between her jaws and hared for the wooden wall. Twoleg paws grabbed for her, their clammy flesh pulling her fur as she twisted free. A growl rumbling in her throat, she leaped up the wall and clung to the top. The Twoleg was yowling in rage, its red face only a tail-length away.

  Fighting terror, Moth Flight leaped along the wooden ridge, her claws stretched as it wobbled beneath her. In a moment, she was beyond the Twoleg’s reach. Another wall blocked its way, and it was clearly too clumsy to climb over. She slowed, finding her balance and made her way shakily back toward Dust Muzzle.

  Her brother was already hurrying toward her, his pelt bushed, his gaze flashing toward the barking Twoleg. “Did it hurt you?”

  Moth Flight’s mouth was too full to speak. Instead she jumped down into the forest. She spat out the catmint and sucked in a deep breath.

  Dust Muzzle landed beside her, darting around her anxiously. “Are you okay?”

  “Just scared!” she panted. “I didn’t see it coming until too late.”

  Spotted Fur scrambled down the wall. “What happened?”

  Dust Muzzle rolled his eyes. “My dreamy sister nearly got caught by a Twoleg.”

  Moth Flight glared at him furiously. “I can’t help being dreamy!” she hissed. Be yourself. Half Moon’s words flashed in her mind. “It’s just the way I am.”

  “One day it’s going to get you into trouble,” Dust Muzzle fretted.

  “I escaped, didn’t I?” Moth Flight lashed her tail. “And don’t tell Wind Runner! She’ll just worry about me!”

  Spotted Fur nosed between them and sniffed the catmint. “It does smell good!” A purr rumbled in his throat. “Can I chew some?” He was already rubbing his cheek against the stems.

  Moth Flight nosed him away sharply. “That’s medicine for Rocky!” she snapped, still angry with her brother. “He doesn’t want your drool all over it.” She snatched up the stems and marched back into the forest.

  Paws aching from the journey home, Moth Flight left Dust Muzzle and Spotted Fur to hunt on the moor and hurried back to camp. Holding her head high so she didn’t trip over the stems, she scrabbled over the tussocky clearing and headed for her den.

  Jagged Peak looked up as she passed. “That smells mouthwatering!”

  She dipped her head to him, unable to answer.

  Storm Pelt and Eagle Feather fell in beside her, leaning close to sniff the leaves.

  “What’s that?” A purr rumbled in Storm Pelt’s throat.

  “Is it for Rocky?” Eagle Feather asked.

  Moth Flight dropped the stems at the entrance to her den. The heady scent clouded her thoughts and she shook out her pelt, hoping to clear them. “It’s catmint,” she told them.

  Eagle Feather was crouching, sniffing at the leaves. “Where did you find it?”

  “Twolegplace.” Moth Flight could hear Rocky coughing inside her den.

  “It’s a shame it doesn’t grow on the moor.” Storm Pelt’s blue eyes shone. “It smells great.”

  “It’s for curing coughs.” Moth Flight shooed Eagle Feather away with a flick of her tail. “It’s precious.” She glanced toward the sandy dip beside the big stone. Sunlight pooled at the bottom. If she dried the leaves, they wouldn’t rot. She hooked two stems from the pile and pushed the rest toward Storm Pelt. “Will you spread these in the hollow so that they dry?” She glanced around. Swift Minnow and Reed Tail were lounging in the late-afternoon sunshine at the edge of the camp. Slate sat blinking at the entrance to her den while Silver Stripe, Black Ear, and White Tail skittered around her, chasing one another’s tails. Wind Runner stretched beside the big stone, her belly turned toward the sun and her eyes closed. Moth Flight blinked at Storm Pelt. “Sit and guard them while they dry,” she ordered. “I don’t want everyone in camp sniffing the leaves. They’re for sick cats.” She wouldn’t blame her Clanmates for wanting to taste the tempting leaves. She’d wanted to try one herself, but she worried that, if cats ate catmint while they were healthy, it might not work when they were ill. Besides, she didn’t want to travel to Twolegplace every few days to fetch more!

  Storm Pelt nodded, grabbing the stems between his jaws. Eagle Feather followed eagerly as he hopped into the hollow and began spreading them over the sandy earth.

  Moth Flight ducked into her den. She laid the stems beside Rocky’s nest. Heat was still pulsing from his damp pelt.

  “Rocky?” She touched him gently with a paw and he blinked his eyes open. “How are you feeling?”

  He coughed in reply.

  “I’ve brought you something that might help.” Moth Flight tore off a leaf with a claw and placed it beside Rocky’s muzzle. “Eat this.”

  Rocky sniffed the catmint, his eyes brightening. “It smells nice!” He blinked at her gratefully and lapped up the leaf.

  She tore off a few more, dropping them beside him. He lapped them up as quickly as she could shred them, until both stems were plucked clean. Was that enough? She leaned closer, wondering how long the catmint would take to work.

  Rocky purred happily, though he still wheezed with every breath.

  “Moth Flight!”

  She lifted her head sharply. A familiar voice was calling outside.

  Micah! Pelt pricking with excitement, she ducked out of her den. The yellow tom was crossing the clearing, the late sunshine turning his fur golden. She hurried to meet him, hoping her pelt didn’t look too dusty after her long trek through the forest. Her heart leaped as she saw him.

  He stopped as he reached her, his eyes shining. “How’s life as a medicine cat?”

  “You should know!” Moth Flight met his gaze, joy surging in her chest. “What’s life like with SkyClan?”

  Micah swished his tail. “Okay, I guess.” He didn’t sound sure.

  “How’s Tiny Branch? Did you cure him?”

  “He’s charging around camp with his littermates, as healthy as a lark.” Micah puffed out his chest proudly.

  “Clear Sky and Star Flower must be happy,” Moth Flight commented.

  “Star Flower is,” Micah told her. “I think Clear Sky’s wishing he hadn’t promised I could stay if I cured his kit.”

  Worry rippled through Moth Flight’s fur. Clear Sky could be cruel. “Is he giving you a hard time?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle. He meows loudly, but he keeps his claws sheathed. I think—”

  “Micah.” Wind Runner’s mew cut him off. “What are you doing here?”

  Moth Flight turned to see her mother approaching. Her fur was still flattened where she’d been lying. Sleepiness clouded her gaze. But Moth Flight recognized her tone of voice. She stiffened, wondering whether the WindClan leader was going to find fault with her or with Micah. “He came to see me,” she told Wind Runner. Then she paused, glancing anxiously at Micah. “You did, right?”

  Micah purred. “Of course! I’ve missed you.”

  Wind Runner’s gaze darkened. “I really don’t think you should be here,” she told the yellow tom. “Clear Sky’s not too happy with WindClan at the moment. Not since we accused Red Claw of prey-stealing.”

  Or since I told him to take a farm cat into his Clan, Moth Flight thought.

  Wind Runner narrowed her eyes. “You smell like the forest, Moth Flight,” she meowed sharply. “Where have you been?”

  “I
went to Twolegplace to fetch catmint for Rocky.”

  Wind Runner bristled. “Did you cross Clear Sky’s territory?”

  “It’s the quickest route.”

  Micah blinked at her. “I wish I’d known,” he told her earnestly. “I would have escorted you.”

  “It’s okay,” Moth Flight reassured him. “Dust Muzzle and Spotted Fur came with me.”

  Wind Runner’s tail twitched. “Three of you crossed Clear Sky’s land?”

  Moth Flight faced her. “So what? We weren’t hunting. And Rocky needed the leaves.”

  “But what if—”

  Micah cut Wind Runner off, his eager gaze fixed on Moth Flight. “Did you find some?”

  Moth Flight nodded. “It was just like you said. Once I smelled it, I knew it was catmint.”

  “It makes your mouth water, doesn’t it?” Micah purred.

  “Stop it!” Wind Runner pushed in front of Micah. “You can’t come into our camp whenever you want to gossip about herbs!” She turned on Moth Flight. “And you can’t go wandering into SkyClan territory without telling me.”

  Moth Flight blinked at her. “But it was for Rocky! You’re always going on about the good of the Clan. Well this was for the good of the Clan.”

  Wind Runner’s gaze darkened. “It’s not for the good of the Clan if it starts a battle.”

  Moth Flight’s pelt pricked. “Surely there wouldn’t be a battle over something as dumb as crossing each other’s land.”

  “Clear Sky’s started one before,” Wind Runner muttered.

  Micah’s ears twitched. “I think Clear Sky is more interested in being a good father at the moment than fighting battles.” Before Wind Runner could reply, he caught Moth Flight’s eye. “I’d better go.”

  “Yes.” Wind Runner stared at him. “You’d better.”

  Moth Flight sniffed indignantly. “I’ll walk you to the border.”

  Wind Runner shot her a look. “Don’t cross it.”

  “I won’t!” Moth Flight whisked her tail as she headed for the entrance. Then she paused. “I’d better check on Rocky before I go. I want to see if the catmint’s working.”

  Wind Runner stalked away, growling. “Don’t be long. I want Micah back in his own territory by sunset.”

  Micah glanced at Moth Flight, his eyes glittering with amusement. “She’s even sterner than I imagined.”

  “I warned you.” Moth Flight headed for her den, stifling a purr.

  Inside, Rocky stretched in his nest, spreading his belly happily. A loud purr throbbed in his chest. He wasn’t coughing. Moth Flight blinked at him. “It sounds like the catmint worked.”

  “I feel great!” Rocky lifted his head and stared blearily at Moth Flight.

  Micah padded past her and smelled the old tom’s breath. “How much did you give him?” he asked Moth Flight.

  “Two stems.” Moth Flight hurried to the nest anxiously. “Was that too much?”

  Before Micah could answer, Rocky reached out a paw and gave her a playful shove on the muzzle. “It was just the right amount.” His tail flicked over his belly. As it flashed past his nose, he grabbed it between his forepaws. “Got you!” Delight shone in his eyes. “Look! I caught my tail!”

  Moth Flight stiffened. She’d never seen him act like a kit before. “Have I poisoned him?”

  “He’ll be fine,” Micah reassured her. “He might just be a little playful for a while. But his cough should improve.”

  “It already has.” Rocky flopped onto his side, his head lolling over the edge of his nest.

  “Come on.” Micah steered Moth Flight toward the entrance. “Let him sleep it off.”

  “I’m not sleepy,” Rocky called after them.

  “Stay in your nest,” Micah told him firmly. “We don’t want you wandering off and getting lost in the heather. You might feel better but you still need to rest.” He nosed Moth Flight from the den.

  Outside, in the sunshine, Moth Flight blinked at him. “How much should I have given him?” she asked.

  “Two or three leaves are enough.” Micah headed toward the camp entrance.

  Moth Flight hurried to catch up. “Did Tiny Branch act like that when you gave him some?”

  “I only gave him one leaf,” Micah weaved between the tussocks and headed out of camp.

  Moth Flight’s pelt prickled hotly along her spine as she followed him. Rocky had been the first cat she’d ever treated. “I’m such a featherbrain,” she mewed crossly.

  Micah looked at her, surprised. “Why?”

  “I should have known it was too much.”

  “How?” Micah padded at her side. “You’d never seen it before. I’m impressed that you even found some.”

  “Really?” Moth Flight blinked at him.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Micah told her. “We’re all learning.”

  “Have you made any mistakes?” Moth Flight asked.

  “Not yet.” Micah gazed across the heather. “But there’s so much I don’t know yet. Clear Sky seems to think I should have the answer to everything. Most of the time, I’m just guessing.”

  The breeze tugged Moth Flight’s pelt, chilly now as the sun began to set. But she hardly noticed. She was relieved to hear that Micah was feeling overwhelmed by his duties too. “I thought it was just me,” she meowed softly.

  Micah’s flank brushed hers. “It’s not just you,” he assured her. “I bet Dappled Pelt, Cloud Spots, and Pebble Heart are struggling too.”

  “Not Pebble Heart,” Moth Flight sighed. “Everyone says he’s a natural healer.” She glanced at her paws. “I wish I was.”

  “How do you know you’re not?” Micah challenged. “Rocky seemed very happy just now.”

  Moth Flight purred, picturing the old tom. “A bit too happy.”

  “There’s no such thing as ‘too happy.’” Micah broke into a run, swerved around a patch of heather and bounded down the slope as it steepened.

  Moth Flight chased after him, purring as she ran. She caught up as they neared the border. “Wait!” She didn’t want him to go home yet.

  He skidded to a halt as he neared the brambles spilling from among the trees. “What?”

  “You don’t have to get back to camp already, do you?” Moth Flight gazed into his amber eyes.

  Micah glanced at the border. “I guess not.” He didn’t sound sure.

  Moth Flight tipped her head. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Micah swished his tail breezily. “Of course not. I just promised Acorn Fur I’d help her mix some herbs.”

  “Acorn Fur?” Moth Flight frowned. “But you’re SkyClan’s medicine cat.”

  “Clear Sky wants me to have a helper.” Micah avoided her gaze. “I think he wants her to keep an eye on me.”

  “Clear Sky’s never been too trusting.” Moth Flight padded closer. “I’m sure he’ll get used to having you as a medicine cat soon.”

  “Yeah.” Micah shrugged. “Besides, Acorn Fur’s nice. We get along fine. And she’s bright. I quite like having her around.”

  Moth Flight pushed away the jealousy pricking in her belly. “Acorn Fur’s okay,” she conceded.

  “We found a way to treat scratches,” Micah told her. “If you chew dock leaves and horsetail stems into a paste, you can smear it deep into a wound.”

  Moth Flight pricked her ears. “I’ll try that next time one of the kits grazes a paw.”

  “It stings,” Micah warned. “They’ll make a fuss. But it will stop the wound from getting infected.”

  The brambles shivered. “Micah!” Acorn Fur padded into the evening sunshine. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Micah dipped his head to the chestnut brown she-cat. “I was just on my way back to camp.”

  “Clear Sky wants you there now.” Acorn Fur eyed Moth Flight warily. “He says Tiny Branch needs more catmint.”

  Micah frowned. “Tiny Branch is fine.”

  “Just come!” Acorn Fur glared at him. “Clear Sky is in one of his
moods.”

  “Let me say good-bye to Moth Flight first.”

  Moth Flight felt Micah’s soft breath on her muzzle as he leaned toward her.

  “Hurry up!” Acorn Fur crossed the border and padded to Micah’s side.

  Micah caught Moth Flight’s eye, his gaze apologetic. “I’ve got to go,” he whispered.

  “See you at half-moon,” Moth Flight murmured back.

  “Yeah.” Micah followed Acorn Fur into the trees.

  Moth Flight watched the shadows swallow him, her pelt pricking uneasily. Acorn Fur was treating him more like a hostage than a Clanmate. Was Micah okay in SkyClan? She tore her gaze away, already longing to see him again, and headed back to camp.

  CHAPTER 17

  Moth Flight glanced at the moon. It rose, a perfect half circle, among the stars. The days since full moon had passed quickly. Moth Flight had been busier than she’d ever been before. Now she was on her way to Highstones.

  She paused, her paws chafed from the stony farm tracks.

  Micah halted beside her. “Tired?”

  “A little,” she admitted. She’d normally be curled in her nest by now.

  They’d left WindClan as the sun sank toward the horizon. Micah and Cloud Spots had met Moth Flight on the moortop where she’d been waiting, the wind rippling her fur, heart racing in anticipation of their journey to the Moonstone.

  Now she glanced at Highstones, looming ahead of them. “We’ve made good time.” Cloud Spots had hurried ahead. She could see him, no more than a shadow tracking back and forth at the bottom of a beech hedge, as though looking for the easiest way through. “What if the spirit-cats don’t come?”

  Micah touched his muzzle to her shoulder. “You worry too much.”

  Cloud Spots glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve picked up Dappled Pelt’s trail!”

  “At last!” Moth Flight was beginning to wonder whether the RiverClan medicine cat had forgotten the meeting.

  “Pebble Heart’s with her,” Cloud Spots called.

  Moth Flight hurried to catch up with the ThunderClan medicine cat. “Is the trail fresh?”

  “Yes!” Cloud Spots ducked under the hedge and disappeared.

  Moth Flight squeezed after the long-furred black tom, the beech twigs scraping her pelt. Micah wriggled through at her tail.