Micah, sitting on the wide stone below, turned, his eyes flashing in the moonlight. “What happened?” He bounded toward her and met her, breathless, halfway up the slope.

  She skidded to a halt and stared into his starlit eyes. “It was amazing,” she breathed.

  “I was worried. You were gone so long.” His gaze flitted over her pelt, as though he was checking that she wasn’t hurt.

  “I’m fine,” she reassured him. She shuddered, realizing how cold she was. The dampness of the tunnel had reached to her bones. She fluffed out her pelt.

  Micah began to steer her gently down the slope. “There’s still a little warmth from the sun left in the rock.” Nudging her up onto the wide stone where he’d been waiting, he joined her.

  A dead mouse was lying in the middle. “I thought you might be hungry.”

  “Thanks.” Moth Flight blinked at him gratefully. “But I don’t think I could eat anything right now. I’m too excited.” She could feel faint warmth beneath her paws and crouched, pressing her belly to the rock. Micah crouched beside her, his fur barely brushing hers, just close enough for her to feel the heat from his pelt.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Micah asked softly.

  Moth Flight stared at him. “Of course. It was the most amazing thing that ever happened to me!”

  Micah gazed at her eagerly.

  “There was a cave at the end of the tunnel. Just like the one I saw in my dream. It has a big rock at the center and a hole in the roof and when the moonlight hit the rock, it blazed like a fire! And then the spirit-cats appeared.”

  “You saw them for real?” Micah widened his eyes.

  Moth Flight nodded. “Even Gray Wing this time.”

  Micah gazed at her blankly.

  “He was part of our Clan until he died a moon ago,” she explained. “It was good to see him again.”

  “Were all these spirit-cats once alive?” Micah asked.

  “Yes!” Moth Flight could still hardly believe she’d spoken with them. “I didn’t recognize many.” The memory of Morning Whisker and Emberkit burned brightly in her mind. “I saw my dead littermates.”

  Micah blinked. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you’d lost—”

  Moth Flight interrupted him. She didn’t need sympathy. “I’m glad I saw them. They were so wise. They looked like kits still but they acted like grown cats.”

  “You spoke to them?”

  “They told me not to be scared of Wind Runner. She’s only stern because she cares about me.”

  Micah’s breath stirred her cheek fur. “Didn’t you know that already?”

  Moth Flight hunched her shoulders. “I always thought she was disappointed in me because I couldn’t hunt as well as Dust Muzzle.”

  Micah’s eyes flashed teasingly. “I guess she wishes you’d bring prey home instead of plants,” he joked. “But how could she not love you?”

  Moth Flight shifted self-consciously. Micah’s stare seemed suddenly too intense to bear. Was he just humoring her? Did he think she was crazy? She was talking about dead cats! “You believe me, don’t you?”

  “I’ve dreamed about you since I was a kit.” Micah’s ears twitched. “Now that I’ve met you for real, I can believe anything.”

  Moth Flight felt relief sweep over her. She was lucky to have someone to share this with, someone who believed her. She suddenly pictured her Clanmates. What would they say when she told them that the spirit-cats had told her she was special? But you’re a featherbrain! She imagined Swift Minnow’s scornful mew.

  “Tell me what they said.” Micah’s voice jerked her from her thoughts.

  “They told me I was to become a medicine cat and learn about herbs and healing and that they would send me omens and I had to explain the omens to Wind Runner.” Moth Flight’s chest tightened. “They said it was my destiny.” She gazed deep into Micah’s eyes, expecting uncertainty, but he stared back solemnly. “Do you think I can do it?” she asked anxiously.

  “You have dreams about moths and spirit-cats and you love to collect plants instead of prey.” Micah sat up and stretched. “You’ll do it brilliantly.”

  “Do you really think so?” She jumped to her paws.

  “Do you want to do it?”

  Moth Flight imagined herself treating cats, collecting herbs, advising Wind Runner and searching the stars for omens. Anticipation prickled beneath her pelt. “Yes!” Her tail quivered. “But it’s not just me,” she went on. “They want Cloud Spots to be a medicine cat too. And Pebble Heart and Dappled Pelt and—” She stopped herself. Was Micah ready to be told of his destiny? He’d only agreed to follow the moth with her, not to give up his life on the farm to live with the Clans. “I have to tell them. I have to tell all of them what I’ve seen.” She felt her paws begin to tremble again.

  “Of course!” Micah swished his tail, excitedly. “They’ll want to know.”

  Moth Flight dropped her gaze, feeling suddenly small beneath the wide starry sky. Could she really do this? As she tried to imagine telling her Clan that she’d spoken with Gray Wing and Half Moon and Emberkit, her paws pricked with alarm. “They already think I’m a birdbrain. This will just prove it.”

  “Why?” Micah frowned, puzzled.

  Hopelessness swamped Moth Flight. “I’ve done so many dumb things,” she confessed. “They won’t believe me.”

  “They have to believe you!” Micah puffed out his chest. “I believe you.”

  “You don’t know how dumb I can be.”

  Micah padded around her, impatiently. “You’re not dumb.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Yes, I do!” Micah stopped and stared at her. “I’ve never met a cat who goes off chasing moths or disappears into strange tunnels in the middle of the night or tells me that she’s going to learn how to heal and read omens.” He paused, his gaze sparkling so intensely that her heart seemed to miss a beat. “You’re wonderful!”

  Moth Flight shifted her paws nervously. Would he think she was so wonderful when she told him about his destiny? “You’re part of it,” she blurted.

  Micah stiffened. “Part of what?”

  “You’re meant to be a medicine cat too.”

  “On the farm?” He tipped his head, puzzled.

  “No!” Moth Flight paced across the stone and looked over the trees to the distant moor, curving like a cat’s spine against the glittering sky. “You’re to be SkyClan’s medicine cat.”

  “That’s your Clan, right?” Micah stopped beside her.

  “No.” Moth Flight steadied her breath. “I’m from WindClan. SkyClan is Clear Sky’s group. They live in the forest, not on the moor.” She felt Micah shift uneasily beside her.

  “So I’ll live there, and not with you?”

  Her heart lifted. He hadn’t said no. She turned sharply and faced him. “Do you mean you’ll do it? Become a medicine cat for the Clans?”

  Micah returned her gaze, but she could read nothing in his eyes. “The leader of SkyClan,” he began. “He’s a tom, right? Fierce. He likes bossing other cats around.”

  Moth Flight’s mouth grew dry as he went on.

  “Is he suspicious of other cats? And proud? Gray with blue eyes?”

  Moth Flight backed away, startled. He was describing Clear Sky exactly. “How do you know?”

  “I’ve dreamed of him,” he murmured. “I dream I’m bringing him catmint to help a sick kit.”

  “Catmint?” Moth Flight pricked her ears.

  “It’s an herb that grows behind the barn. It looks a bit like nettles but the leaves are smaller and they don’t sting. You’ll know if you ever see some. It smells great. And it helps coughs.” Micah whisked his tail impatiently. “I keep having the same dream. The kit’s always sick and the gray tom’s ordering me to hurry with the catmint.” He blinked at her. “But I can see now—it wasn’t a dream! None of my dreams have been dreams. I’ve been seeing my destiny!” His fur rippled with surprise. He lifted his gaze toward the moor.

/>   Moth Flight shifted her paws nervously. He’d just discovered that the life he’d planned was not the life that had been planned for him. “Do you mind?”

  “Why should I mind?” Micah shrugged. “It’s pointless to mind your own destiny. You just have to face it.”

  Moth Flight wondered how he could be so calm. Fear hollowed her belly as she tried to imagine the moons that lay head of her. “Aren’t you scared?”

  “No,” he meowed softly. “One path is as good as another. It’s not knowing which one to take that’s scary. Now that I know where I’m meant to be going, there’s nothing to fear.” He looked at her. “For either of us.”

  “Do you promise?” Her mew quavered.

  “I promise.” His green gaze was steady. Starlight sparkled in its depths.

  Moth Flight reached out her muzzle and touched his. Her heart slowed as his nose brushed her cheek. She felt soothed by his stillness, aware of the moonlight washing their pelts.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Wake up.”

  Moth Flight felt a muzzle nudging her shoulder. She lifted her head, blinking at the bright sunshine. Where am I? Confused for a moment, she saw Micah, standing beside her on the smooth, wide rock at the foot of Highstones.

  Memories flooded her. The night before! The spirit-cats! The moonlit stone!

  Heart leaping, she scrambled to her paws. “We have to get back and tell Wind Runner!” They’d talked until dawn had crept over the moortop, and then slept. Now the sun was sinking behind them. “Come on!”

  “There’s no hurry. We can eat first.” Micah jumped off the rock and sniffed for prey underneath.

  “There isn’t time. It’s full moon tonight. We have to get back and tell her before the Gathering. Then she can let the others know.” Moth Flight leaped from the rock and headed across the stony ground, toward the fields. If she could convince Wind Runner that the Clans needed to have medicine cats, then Wind Runner could explain everything to the other leaders. They might not believe me, but they’ll believe the WindClan leader.

  She heard Micah’s paw steps hurry after her. “What’s the Gathering?”

  “The Clans meet every full moon to share tongues,” Moth Flight explained quickly, her eyes fixed on the meadow ahead. “They swap information about dangers, like Twolegs or dogs, and how the prey’s running. It helps keep the peace.”

  “Do the Clans fight?” Micah sounded surprised.

  “They did once,” Moth Flight told him. “Now we meet and share so that we’ll never fight again.”

  She quickened her pace. The moor looked a long way off. They’d be lucky to get there before dusk.

  “We’ll travel faster on full bellies,” Micah scanned the land around them as stones gave way to grass beneath their paws.

  Moth Flight kept her gaze firmly ahead. “If you see prey as we travel, then catch it. But I’m not stopping.”

  Evening was flooding the valley by the time they neared the steep hill that climbed to the moor. Micah had caught a shrew he’d spotted as they leaped a ditch. He’d killed it and they’d quickly shared it between them. It hadn’t stopped Moth Flight’s hunger. Her belly was rumbling as she caught sight of the Thunderpath, but she ignored it. She must concentrate on crossing. The wide strip of black stone cut across their trail and Moth Flight stopped at the edge. Her ear fur tingled, picking up the distant roar of a monster. Stale monster scent soured her tongue.

  “Come on.” Micah hurried onto the flat stone. He stopped in the middle and turned as she hung back on the verge. She remembered the last time she was here. Fear wormed in her belly. She’d nearly got Gorse Fur killed. What if he’d died? I was so rabbit-brained! Had Wind Runner forgiven her?

  You’re a danger to your Clan.

  Moth Flight stared at the Thunderpath, her mouth suddenly dry. Spotted Fur had promised everything would be fine by the morning. That had been two days ago. Would it really be fine?

  It has to be! I’m going to be a medicine cat. She forced herself to remember Morning Whisker’s words. If she’s strict, it’s because she worries about you, not because she thinks you’re useless. A spirit-cat couldn’t be wrong, could she?

  “Moth Flight!” Micah’s yowl made her jump. She blinked, focusing on him. The roaring of the monster was louder. Its silhouette loomed on the horizon. Glaring eyes blazed through the twilight, blanching Micah’s yellow pelt.

  I’m not risking another cat’s life!

  Moth Flight pelted forward, whisking past Micah. “Come on!” She glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see him hare after her as she made for the far side of the Thunderpath. She skidded to a halt, grass snagging between her claws. Micah slowed beside her. Foul wind tugged her fur as the monster roared past, honking like a goose.

  “That was close!” Micah panted.

  Moth Flight blinked at him anxiously. His pelt was bushed. “I didn’t expect you to wait for me in the middle.”

  “I didn’t expect you to stand daydreaming at the side!”

  “Next time, don’t wait for me,” she told him. “I get distracted.”

  Micah’s ears twitched uneasily. “Are there any Thunderpaths on the moor?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  They climbed the slope in silence. As they reached the top, the setting sun warmed Moth Flight’s back for a moment before it slipped behind Highstones. She stopped and blinked through the dusky half-light. She could smell WindClan scents clinging to the gorse ahead. And the heather, fragrant with evening dew. Her paws pricked with happiness. She was home!

  She glanced at Micah. It was strange to have him beside her. She was used to crossing this grass with her Clanmates. Was he nervous? He was entering unknown territory. “Are you ready?”

  Micah gazed across the moor sloping away in front of them. The forest stood beyond, no more than a shadow against the purpling sky now. He lifted his tail. “I’m ready.”

  “Follow me.” Moth Flight headed toward the gorse, weaving between the thickly clustered bushes. Flower buds had begun to unfurl since she’d left and their sweet perfume filled her nose. She quickened her pace as they reached an open stretch of grass.

  “How long have the Clans lived here?” Micah trotted at her side.

  “Not too long. We were one big group once,” Moth Flight explained. “But we split into Clans moons ago. Some preferred the pine forest, some preferred the oaks. Some wanted to live beside the river.” She glanced sideways at Micah. “They swim.”

  “They swim?” Micah’s ears twitched. “Why?”

  “Only the stars know.” Moth Flight had never understood any cat who enjoyed getting their fur wet. “Wind Runner and Gorse Fur have always been moor cats. So that’s where we live.” She pointed her muzzle toward the shadowy dip in the hillside that enclosed the camp.

  Micah narrowed his eyes. Moth Flight wished she could tell what he was thinking.

  She broke into a run. She didn’t want him to lose his nerve. “Come on.” The full moon was rising into a clear sky. “They’ll be heading to Fourtrees soon. I have to speak to Wind Runner before she leaves.”

  She smelled Spotted Fur’s scent as she ducked into a swath of heather. The golden-brown tom had followed this path through the bushes earlier and, by the smell of it, Dust Muzzle had been with him. Their scents rose from the earth. Wait till I tell them where I’ve been! Excitement buzzed beneath her pelt. Wind Runner will have to believe me! She suddenly felt sure that she could convince her mother she’d spoken to Half Moon. She may think I’m a featherbrain but she knows I wouldn’t lie. She could hear Micah panting behind her and the heather swishing against their pelts as she led him zigzagging through it.

  “Are we nearly there?” he puffed.

  “It’s not far.” She burst out onto open grass and saw the gorse wall of the camp ahead. Circling around it, she led Micah to the entrance.

  Above them, stars were beginning to glitter as the sky darkened. Is Half Moon up there watching? Moth Flight’s paws
prickled. She was determined to prove that the spirit-cats had put their faith in the right cat.

  She ducked through the camp entrance, Micah on her tail.

  Storm Pelt was sitting among the tussocks, Dew Nose at his side. They leaped to their paws as they saw Moth Flight.

  “You’re back!” Joy sparked in Storm Pelt’s eyes. Then he saw Micah and raised his hackles. “Who’s he?”

  “He’s a friend.” Moth Flight pulled up in front of the mottled gray tom. “He saved me from a dog two days ago.”

  Micah stiffened as Dew Nose sniffed him, suspicious, but kept his hackles smooth.

  “What’s he doing here?” she demanded.

  “I’ll tell you later.” Moth Flight scanned the camp, her heart thumping. Where’s Wind Runner? Unease fluttered in her belly. Slate was playing with her kits at one edge of the camp while Rocky lay nearby, watching lazily. No one else was in camp.

  “Moth Flight! You’re back!” Silver Stripe spotted her and came bouncing across the grass. Black Ear chased after his sister excitedly.

  Slate looked up from White Tail, who was rolling on his back trying to swipe her mother’s tail. “You’re safe!” she called happily. “Wind Runner will be relieved.”

  “Where is Wind Runner?” Moth Flight’s heart quickened.

  Rocky heaved himself slowly to his paws. “She’s left with the others.”

  Dew Nose was still watching Micah warily. “They’ve gone to the full-moon Gathering.”

  “Already?” Moth Flight stared at him, her heart dropping like a stone. “But I wanted to speak to her.”

  Micah padded to her side, ignoring Dew Nose’s curiosity. “When did she leave?”

  “Not long ago,” Storm Pelt told him.

  Dew Nose stalked around her brother and glared at Micah. “We stayed behind to guard the kits.”

  Silver Stripe raced around Micah and Moth Flight. “You smell funny!” she squeaked.

  “Where have you been?” Black Ear stared at her with wide eyes. “You’re all dusty!”

  Micah looked at the kit, his whiskers twitching with amusement. “We’ve been to Highstones.”