As they climbed the slope that led to Fourtrees, Leafpaw began to pick up the scent of other cats. “ShadowClan,” she murmured. “That must be Littlecloud.”
Cinderpelt nodded. “He usually waits for me.”
Leafpaw knew that Cinderpelt had saved Littlecloud’s life when sickness raged through ShadowClan; because of that, Littlecloud had chosen to follow the path of a medicine cat, and ever since there had been a bond of friendship between him and Cinderpelt, beyond even the common loyalty shared by all medicine cats.
When they reached the top of the hollow, Leafpaw spotted the ShadowClan medicine cat sitting at the base of the Great Rock. The small but dignified tabby figure was alone, as he had no apprentice. He leaped to his paws as soon as he saw them, calling out a greeting. At the same moment the bushes further around the hollow rustled, and Mudfur from RiverClan stepped into the clearing with his apprentice, Mothwing.
Leafpaw was pleased to see the RiverClan apprentice. She bounded down the slope to join her as Cinderpelt and the other two medicine cats met in the centre of the clearing and began to exchange their news.
“Mothwing!” she meowed. “It’s good to see you.”
The sun had risen fully above the trees, and Mothwing’s golden fur glowed amber. Leafpaw thought again how beautiful she was, but she was disconcerted when her friendly greeting was not returned.
Instead, Mothwing nodded coolly. “Greetings. I wondered if Cinderpelt would bring her apprentice.”
Something about the way she spoke made Leafpaw feel small, as if Mothwing were trying to put her in her place. Of course, Mothwing was already a warrior, so perhaps she expected respect and not friendship from an apprentice. Disappointment stabbed Leafpaw like a thorn; she dipped her head and fell back a pace to follow the other cats as they made their way up the side of the hollow and across the border into WindClan territory.
Her spirits rose again as they began to cross the moorland; the bright, early leaf-fall sunlight, the breeze ruffling the grass that felt springy under her paws, the scents of gorse and heather were all so different from the lush, shady forest of ThunderClan. Seeing that Mothwing was padding behind her mentor without joining in the talk of the medicine cats, Leafpaw went over to join her.
“I didn’t think you would be here,” she mewed. “I thought that Mudfur would have taken you to Mothermouth already.”
Mothwing swung around to look her full in the face, her amber eyes smoldering as if Leafpaw had said something to offend her. Leafpaw flinched. “I’m sorry . . .” she began.
Suddenly Mothwing relaxed and the hostile light died out of her eyes. “No, I’m sorry,” she meowed. “It’s not your fault. You heard what Mudfur said at the last Gathering, about waiting for a sign from StarClan that I would be the right medicine cat for the Clan?”
Leafpaw nodded.
“The sign didn’t come.” Mothwing paused and began to tug at the tough moorland grass with the claws of one forepaw. “There was nothing! I thought that meant StarClan had rejected me—and the other cats were quick enough to start talking about it! Just because my mother was a rogue, and I’m not Clan-born.” The fierce light shone briefly in her eyes again, and then faded.
“Oh, no—I’m so sorry!” Leafpaw exclaimed, eyes wide with sympathy.
“Mudfur just told me to be patient.” Mothwing’s lips twisted wryly. “He may be good at that, but I’m not. I tried, but still the sign didn’t come. I was ready to leave the Clan, but Hawkfrost—you remember my brother, Hawkfrost?—told me not to listen. He said I didn’t have to prove my loyalty to jealous cats, only to StarClan, and he was sure they would send the sign eventually.”
“And he was right,” mewed Leafpaw, “or you wouldn’t be here now.”
“Yes, he was right.” Relief sparkled in Mothwing’s eyes. “It was only two dawns ago. Mudfur came out of his den and found a moth’s wing at the entrance. He showed it to Leopardstar and all the other Clan cats. He said you couldn’t have a clearer sign than that.”
“And did Leopardstar—” Leafpaw was interrupted by a distant yowling and looked up. The three medicine cats had paused at the top of a distant rise and were looking back toward the two of them.
“Are you coming with us or not?” Mudfur’s voice came faintly on the wind.
Leafpaw exchanged a startled glance with Mothwing and let out a mrrow of laughter. The sign had been sent from StarClan, so Mothwing could have nothing to worry about. The Moonstone awaited them both, ready to let them into the mysteries of their warrior ancestors. At that moment, Leafpaw couldn’t imagine anything better than being an apprentice medicine cat. “Come on,” she mewed excitedly to her companion. “We’re being left behind!”
At sunhigh, they met up with Barkface, the WindClan medicine cat, beside the source of one of the moorland streams. Leafpaw watched Barkface and Mudfur greet each other with friendly meows, in spite of the tension between their Clans over WindClan’s determination to drink at the river until the next Gathering. Usual Clan rivalries did not exist between medicine cats—their loyalty was to StarClan, which stretched across all forest boundaries.
After a while, Leafpaw noticed that Cinderpelt was beginning to limp badly, and guessed that her old injury was bothering her. But the ThunderClan medicine cat would never admit that the pace was too much for her, so Leafpaw decided to slow the cats down herself. “Can’t we have a rest?” she begged, flopping down on a patch of soft heather. “I’m really tired!”
Cinderpelt gave her a keen glance, as if she guessed what Leafpaw was thinking, and then meowed agreement.
“Apprentices,” Barkface muttered. “No stamina.”
“He hasn’t travelled as far as us,” Mothwing whispered as she settled down beside Leafpaw. “And he doesn’t have an apprentice, so what does he know?”
“He’s not really unkind,” Leafpaw murmured back. “I think he just likes to sound grumpy.” She lay on one side and began to give herself a thorough wash, wanting to look her best when she stood before StarClan.
Mothwing started to do the same, and then paused. “Leafpaw, will you test me?” she begged.
“Test you—on what?”
“Herbs.” Mothwing’s eyes were wide and anxious. “In case Mudfur expects me to know all of them. I don’t want to let him down. We use marigold to stop infection, and yarrow leaves to expel poison, but what’s best for bellyache? I can never remember.”
“Juniper berries, or chervil root,” Leafpaw replied, mystified. “But why are you getting so worked up? You can always ask your mentor. He won’t expect you to know everything already.”
“Not when I meet StarClan!” Mothwing was almost wailing in distress. “I have to show them that I’m fit to be a medicine cat. They might not accept me if I can’t remember the things I ought to know.”
Leafpaw almost burst out laughing. “It’s not like that,” she meowed patiently. “StarClan won’t ask you questions. They . . . Well, it’s difficult to explain, but I’m sure you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“It’s easy enough for you.” To Leafpaw’s surprise, there was a hint of bitterness in Mothwing’s tone. “You were born a forest cat. I have to be better than any other cat, just to be accepted in the Clan.”
Her eyes were huge, shining with a mixture of anger and determination. Pity for her squeezed Leafpaw’s heart, and she swept her tail around to touch Mothwing’s shoulder.
“That might be true of RiverClan,” she meowed, “but it isn’t true of StarClan. You don’t earn StarClan’s approval—they give it as a gift.”
“Well, they might not give it to me,” Mothwing muttered.
Leafpaw stared at her friend in amazement. She was so strong and beautiful, she had all of a warrior’s skills as well as the chance to learn those of a medicine cat, but she was still afraid that she would never belong in the forest.
Moving closer to her, Leafpaw pressed her muzzle comfortingly into Mothwing’s side. “You’ll be fine,” she murmured. “Lo
ok at Firestar. He’s not Clan-born, but now he’s ThunderClan leader.” When Mothwing still looked uncertain, she added, “Trust me. When you stand in front of the Moonstone, you’ll understand everything.”
The sun was beginning to sink as the medicine cats approached Highstones. The rough moorland grass gave way to a steep slope of bare soil, with here and there a clump of heather. Outcrops of rock poked through it, blotched with yellow lichen.
Barkface, who had taken the lead, paused on a flat rock and gazed upward. Just below the peak a dark hole gaped in the hillside beneath a stone archway.
“There’s Mothermouth,” Leafpaw explained to Moth wing, and then remembered that her friend would have seen it before, when she made her apprentice journey during her warrior training. “Sorry,” she added. “I know this isn’t your first time.”
Mothwing’s eyes widened as she gazed up at the yawning gap. “This is as far as I went,” she replied. “I wasn’t chosen to go inside.”
“It is frightening, I know—but it’s wonderful, too,” Leafpaw reassured her.
Mothwing drew herself up. “I’m not afraid,” she insisted. “I’m a warrior. I’m not afraid of anything.”
Not even rejection by StarClan? Leafpaw didn’t dare put words to her thought, but as she settled down beside her friend to wait for nightfall she couldn’t help noticing that Mothwing was trembling.
At last the half-moon floated above the peak and Mudfur rose to his paws. “It’s time,” he rasped.
Leafpaw felt tension in her belly as she followed her mentor up the slope and underneath the stone archway. Cold, damp air flowed toward them, and it almost seemed as if a river of darkness flowed out too, blacker than the night that surrounded them. Leafpaw took her place at the back of the line of cats, just behind Mothwing.
The tunnel sloped down, winding back and forth until Leafpaw lost all sense of direction. The air seemed thick, as if they were underwater as well as underground. She could see nothing, not even Mothwing padding no more than a rabbit-hop in front of her, though she could hear the RiverClan cat’s shallow breathing and smell the fear-scent that came from her.
At last Leafpaw felt a cool ripple in the air around them, and her fur tingled with excitement as she recognised the first sign that they were coming to the heart of the hill. Fresh scents of the world above came faintly to her as she stepped into a large cavern; a glitter of starshine through a hole in the roof showed her soaring walls of stone, and underneath her paws the floor was smooth, well-worn stone. In the centre of the cave stood a rock three tail-lengths high. Leafpaw’s eyes widened in awe as she gazed at it, though as yet it was dark, a formidable sleeping presence.
Mothwing’s fur brushed her lightly. “Where are we?” she whispered. “What’s happening?”
“Mothwing, come before the Moonstone,” Barkface announced from further in the cavern. “We must all wait until the time comes to share tongues with StarClan.” He and the other medicine cats sat around the stone, about a foxlength from it.
Leafpaw heard a shuddering sigh from her friend, and pressed reassuringly against the RiverClan apprentice’s shoulder. “It’s ok for us to sit, too,” she breathed into Mothwing’s ear. As she took her place a tail-length behind Cinderpelt, she felt Mothwing hesitantly sit down beside her.
In the darkness, time stretched out until Leafpaw almost believed that they had been waiting there for seasons. Then, within a heartbeat, brilliant white light flashed into the cave as the moon appeared through the hole in the roof. She heard Mothwing gasp. The Moonstone woke into dazzling life in front of them, glittering in moonlight as if the whole of Silverpelt had swirled down into its crystal surface.
As Leafpaw’s eyes became used to the brilliant light she saw Mudfur rise to his paws, turn, and pace slowly across the cavern floor to stand in front of his apprentice. The white light flooded over his fur so that he looked as if he were covered in ice.
“Mothwing,” he meowed solemnly, “is it your wish to enter into the mysteries of StarClan as a medicine cat?”
Mothwing hesitated. Leafpaw saw her swallow before she replied, “It is.”
“Then come forward.”
Mothwing rose and followed her mentor back across the cavern until both cats stood close to the stone. In its light Mothwing looked unearthly, her golden fur pale as ash and a glint of silver in her eyes—almost as if she had already joined the ranks of StarClan. Leafpaw shivered. That could not be a good thought; she pushed it out of her mind, reluctant to believe that it might be an omen.
“Warriors of StarClan,” Mudfur continued, “I present to you this apprentice. She has chosen the path of a medicine cat. Grant her your wisdom and insight so that she may understand your ways and heal her Clan in accordance with your will.”
He waved his tail and spoke to Mothwing. “Lie down here, and press your nose against the stone.”
As if she moved in a dream, Mothwing obeyed. Once she was settled, all the medicine cats moved forward to lie in the same position around the Moonstone, and Cinderpelt gestured to Leafpaw to join them. Her fur crawled with anticipation; she knew what was about to happen.
“It is time to share tongues with StarClan,” Barkface murmured.
“Speak with us, warrior ancestors,” Littlecloud meowed. “Show us the destiny of our Clans.”
Leafpaw closed her eyes and pressed her nose against the surface of the stone. At once the cold gripped her body like the talon of a hawk, or as if she had fallen headlong into dark water. She couldn’t see or hear anything, or feel the stone floor of the cavern underneath her; she was floating in a dark night without even the light of Silverpelt.
Then a series of rapid scenes began to flash across her vision. She saw Fourtrees, but the great trees were bare, with only a few ragged leaves still clinging to the branches. One of the trees was shaking back and forth, more violently than in the strongest wind, while the others stood still around it. Almost at once, the picture was replaced with a view of monsters speeding by on the Thunderpath, and a long line of cats trekking through snow, a dark line against the endless white landscape. There were no trees here, and nothing to suggest that it was anywhere in the four territories.
The last scene of all showed her Squirrelpaw, and though Leafpaw knew she was forbidden to speak, she could barely hold back a cry of relief and delight. Her sister was trotting over a broad green field, and Leafpaw had the impression of several other cats with her before the vision was gone, and she was left in darkness once more.
Gradually the cold stone beneath her seeped back into her fur, and the endless space inside the dreams of StarClan dwindled to the ordinary freshness of a night in leaf-fall. Leafpaw opened her eyes, blinking, and drew away from the Moonstone, before shakily rising to her paws. She felt oddly comforted, as though she were a kit again, protected by her mother while she slept. StarClan had preserved her link with Squirrelpaw, even though they were so far apart.
The other medicine cats were getting to their paws around her, ready to return to the surface. Mothwing stood among them, her eyes blazing with a mixture of triumph and wonder at the things StarClan had shown her. Leafpaw felt a sharp pang of relief as she realised that their warrior ancestors must have accepted Mothwing. Whatever she felt about her Clan mates, the RiverClan cat didn’t have to doubt StarClan’s approval anymore.
Mudfur touched Mothwing’s mouth with his tail-tip, a sign for silence, and led the way out of the cavern. Once again Leafpaw brought up the rear, padding along the twisting underground tunnel, back toward the everyday world.
As soon as they reached the entrance, Mothwing leaped to the top of a jutting spur of rock. She flung back her head and let out a yowl of pure triumph.
Mudfur watched her, shaking his head indulgently. “Not so bad after all, then, was it? Well,” he went on as Mothwing sprang down to his side again, “you’re a true medicine cat apprentice now. How does it feel?”
“Wonderful!” Mothwing replied. “I saw Hawkfrost leading a pa
trol, and—” She broke off as Leafpaw widened her eyes at her, trying to signal that medicine cats did not share their dreams until they had some idea of what they meant.
Leafpaw padded over and touched noses with the RiverClan apprentice. “Congratulations,” she murmured. “I told you it would be all right.”
“Yes, you did.” Mothwing’s eyes shone. “Everything will be all right now. RiverClan will hear that StarClan approve of me. They’ll have to accept me now!”
She bounded off down the slope, leaving the others to follow more slowly. Leafpaw watched her with her heart full of questions. What had Mothwing seen? And what visions had StarClan sent to Cinderpelt? The ThunderClan medicine cat was looking thoughtful, but her expression gave nothing away.
Suppressing a shiver, Leafpaw remembered her own visions. What was powerful enough to shake one of the great oaks at Fourtrees? And why were cats travelling in the bitter cold of leaf-bare? If StarClan had sent her signs of what the future would bring, how was she supposed to interpret them?
Yet for all her uncertainty, Leafpaw was full of hope. Even though Squirrelpaw was a long way from the forest, StarClan had shown her that she was safe.
Send her back soon, Leafpaw prayed as she followed the other cats down the hill. Wherever this journey leads them, please bring them safely home.
CHAPTER 16
Brambleclaw raced back to the hedge with Feathertail right behind him. All his instincts told him to dash into the garden and rescue the other cats, but the memory of what happened when they had first crossed the Thunderpath warned him to be more careful. Instead, he pushed his way through the branches until he could peer out while still remaining hidden.
What he saw made his belly flip over. Near the Twoleg nest, two huge kittypets had cornered Stormfur and Crowpaw. The WindClan apprentice was crouched close to the ground, his ears flattened and his lips drawn back in a snarl. Stormfur had one paw stretched out in front of him, threatening the kittypets with unsheathed claws. Bramble claw could see that they wouldn’t get away without a fight, and there was nowhere for them to retreat except through the half-open door of the Twoleg nest.