by Erin Hunter
“Why should they be? There are no borders in StarClan,” Cinderpelt reminded her. “Cats roam where they please. Bluestar lives with Oakheart now. They can be the family they never were in life.”
Squirrelflight wondered what it was like to live without borders. She tipped her head to one side. “How can the Clans live in peace here but not beside the lake?”
“I told you.” Sandstorm flicked her tail. “There’s less to fight about.”
Cinderpelt got to her paws. “I promised Yellowfang I’d hunt with her this afternoon.” She blinked at Leafpool. “Do you want to come too?”
“Of course.” Leafpool blinked at Squirrelflight. “Do you want to join us?”
“No thanks.” Squirrelflight wanted to make the most of the time she had here in StarClan. She could wake up at any moment and find herself in the ThunderClan medicine den. “I’ll stay with Sandstorm and the kits.” She watched Leafpool and Cinderpelt hurry toward the gorse tunnel, their pelts fluffed with excitement. Cinderpelt seemed happier here, and Leafpool happy to be with her again.
Firestar closed his eyes, and Sandstorm began to wash his ears as though he were a kit. Mousefur rolled onto her side, clearly relishing the sunshine. How comforting it was to know that those who’d left them would never truly be gone.
Hollyleaf caught Squirrelflight’s eye. “Can I show you around?”
“What about Sandstorm and the kits?” Dandelionkit, Juniperkit, and Flickerkit chased one another’s tails on the other side of the clearing.
“They can come too,” Hollyleaf told her. “Don’t forget, kits aren’t confined to camp here. They can go wherever they like in StarClan. There’s nothing to hurt them here.”
Squirrelflight glanced at her father. He was dozing now, gently snoring. “Should we wake him?”
“He likes to have a nap in the afternoon,” Sandstorm told her. “He’ll be fast asleep until sunset.”
Squirrelflight got to her paws. “Dandelionkit! Juniperkit!” They stopped playing and looked at her eagerly. “Do you want to come look around with us?”
“Yes!” Dandelionkit raced toward her, Juniperkit on her tail.
“Can we come too?” Larksong and Flickerkit hurried after them.
“Sure!” Hollyleaf shook out her pelt. “Maybe we’ll catch some squirrels while we’re out.” She headed for the thorn tunnel. “Tree hunting is the best.”
“Tree hunting?” Squirrelflight pricked her ears nervously. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Not here.” Hollyleaf ducked through the entrance.
Juniperkit lifted his tail happily. “You can’t hurt yourself, even if you fall.”
“It’s like flying without wings.” Dandelionkit pushed past her and raced through the gorse tunnel, Juniperkit at her heels.
Squirrelflight hurried after them, her belly tightening. Even in StarClan, she didn’t like the idea of her kits falling.
“Don’t worry.” Sandstorm must have seen her pelt prickling. She ran her tail along Squirrelflight’s spine. “They’re perfectly safe.”
Squirrelflight raced along the oak branch. A ginger tail bobbed just ahead. As the ground blurred far below, she felt no fear. She reached the end and leaped. Air streamed through her fur. The tree beyond seemed to reach toward her, and she landed among its branches, breathless at the thrill. She hesitated, scanning the tree for the squirrel. There it was, swarming up the trunk! She hauled herself upward, her claws digging easily into the soft bark, and scrambled onto a crooked branch as the squirrel doubled back.
Hollyleaf was watching from the branch above. As the squirrel neared her, she slithered down, blocking the squirrel’s path. It turned, eyes widening as it saw Squirrelflight. She leaped for it and hooked it up, then killed it with a single bite. Its blood sang on her tongue, and she sat back on her haunches, satisfaction pulsing beneath her pelt.
Hollyleaf stopped beside her. “Good, huh?”
Squirrelflight purred. “Very.” She peered down through the leaves. She could see Juniperkit and Dandelionkit running along a branch below. It was strange to see kits so young climbing trees. They weren’t fast enough to catch squirrels, but they moved with such nimbleness they looked like tiny warriors.
“Let’s take this down and rest,” Hollyleaf mewed. The sky was darkening as the sun dipped in the sky. “Firestar will be awake soon.”
She picked the squirrel up between her jaws and scrambled down the trunk.
Squirrelflight followed, the forest floor soft as she landed.
Leaves rustled above her head, and Juniperkit and Dandelionkit dropped down beside her. They sniffed the squirrel excitedly.
“Can we taste it?” Dandelionkit asked.
“Aren’t you too young to eat fresh-kill?” Squirrelflight pricked her ears with surprise.
Juniperkit rolled his eyes. “This is StarClan,” he told her. “We can eat anything we like.”
“Okay, then.” As they padded around the squirrel, searching for the best place to take a bite, Squirrelflight looked around the woods. “Where’s Sandstorm?”
“I’m here.” Her mother padded from between the trees, Larksong at her tail. Flickerkit followed them, dragging a mouse by its tail. His catch was almost half his size.
“Did you catch that yourself?” Juniperkit sounded impressed as he hurried to sniff the mouse.
Flickerkit let the mouse flop onto the ground. “Larksong flushed it out and I killed it.”
Larksong stopped beside his son and puffed out his chest. “He learns quickly.”
Squirrelflight’s belly felt suddenly hollow. How would Sparkpelt feel when she heard that Flickerkit was learning warrior skills without her? She blinked at Larksong. “Should I tell Sparkpelt that you’re happy here?”
Larksong’s gaze darkened. “I’m not happy, exactly.,” he murmured. “I still miss her.” Grief glittered in his eyes.
Flickerkit looked at him. “Will Sparkpelt be joining us soon?”
“Not yet.” Larksong touched his nose to Flickerkit’s head.
Guilt pricked Squirrelflight’s pelt. She’d forgotten about Sparkpelt and Bramblestar while she was hunting. They’d be sick with worry. She should be with them, not here. “I need to see my Clanmates. Take me to the pond.” She stared at Sandstorm. If there was a way to see her living Clanmates, perhaps she could send them a message. “I need to go back.”
Sandstorm frowned. “I don’t know if you can.”
“I have to try.” Squirrelflight padded past her mother and headed for the meadow where she’d woken. Sandstorm followed, Larksong, Hollyleaf, and the kits at her heels. Even the kits kept up as she broke from the forest and crossed the meadow to the pond. The surface shimmered in the fading light as she stopped beside it. She peered in, anxiety sparking in her belly as she saw nothing but her reflection. “How do I see them?”
“See who?” Leafpool’s mew took her by surprise. Her sister was hurrying toward her, Cinderpelt at her side.
“I want to see Sparkpelt.” Squirrelflight touched her paw to the water. As ripples spread around it, she glimpsed the ThunderClan camp. She dropped into a crouch and peered harder into the pond. The medicine den opened before her. Alderheart hadn’t moved. He was still huddled beside her nest. Leafpool lay next to her, Jayfeather at her side. In the hazy shadows she could make out Bramblestar. His eyes were hollow with grief. Her heart twisted inside her chest. “I must get to them. I have to tell them I’m coming back.”
“You can only watch.” Sandstorm’s flank brushed hers softly.
“There must be some way to send them a message.” Squirrelflight looked again, her heart lurching as she realized that she couldn’t see her daughter. “Where’s Sparkpelt?”
“She’s probably with her kits,” Sandstorm murmured.
“Or she could be grieving,” Larksong mewed. “I can never see her when she’s really upset. It’s like she’s swallowed by shadows.”
Foreboding trickled like ice water through Squirrelflight’
s pelt. “She needs me.” Her words felt thick. She sat up. “They all need me.”
Leafpool padded closer. “There’s nothing we can do,” she mewed gently.
“But you hear from StarClan all the time,” Squirrelflight insisted. “There must be a way to reach them. How do you share with StarClan when you’re at the Moonpool?”
Leafpool shrugged. “I just touch my nose to the water and I’m there with them.”
Squirrelflight jabbed her nose into the pond. Water raced up her nose and made her sneeze.
Leafpool ran her tail along Squirrelflight’s spine. “They’ll be okay,” she soothed.
“No, they won’t!” Panic fluttered at the edge of Squirrelflight’s thoughts. “I have to reach them.” She stared urgently at Leafpool. “Perhaps if you try too. We have two paws here and two paws beside the lake. If we try hard enough, we have to be able to find our way back.”
Leafpool shook her head. “I don’t want to go back yet. It’s been so long since I’ve seen Hollyleaf, Sandstorm, and Firestar. I want to stay with them while I can.”
“But Sparkpelt needs us.” Squirrelflight blinked at her.
“Sparkpelt needs you,” Leafpool murmured softly. “Not me.”
Squirrelflight saw calmness in Leafpool’s gaze. She’s happy to be here. She shook out her pelt. Well, I’m not! “I’m going to find my way back.” She turned toward her kits.
Dandelionkit was chasing Flickerkit around her brother. She stopped as she saw Squirrelflight padding toward them. “Have you seen all your Clanmates in the pond?”
“Not yet.” Squirrelflight ignored the guilt pricking beneath her pelt. “I have to go back.”
“Now?” Juniperkit’s eyes widened.
“But you only just got here,” Dandelionkit mewed.
“I’ll return,” Squirrelflight promised. “You just have to be patient a little while longer.” She glanced at Flickerkit and Sandstorm. “And you have friends here, and kin. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Don’t you want to stay?” Sadness glistened in Juniperkit’s gaze.
“I can’t stay yet,” Squirrelflight told him. “There are cats I left behind. They still need me. More than you do.”
“Okay, then.” Dandelionkit lifted her chin bravely. “I can wait,” she mewed.
Juniperkit glanced at his sister uncertainly. “So can I, I guess.”
Squirrelflight touched her muzzle to his head, then nuzzled Dandelionkit’s ears. “Be good,” she murmured softly. “Keep practicing your hunting skills.”
Juniperkit flicked his tail. “By the time you get back, we’ll be able to catch whole squirrels.”
“I’m sure you will.” Squirrelflight’s chest tightened as she turned back toward the pond.
Larksong padded closer. “If you reach Sparkpelt, tell her I love her. Tell her not to be unhappy. I’ll take care of Flickerkit until she can join us. But she has to be happy. She has to make a life without me. I don’t want her to grieve.”
Squirrelflight nodded solemnly. “I’ll tell her if I can.” She turned to Sandstorm. “Say good-bye to Firestar for me.” She ignored the grief tugging at her belly. She knew what she had to do. The pond was her link to ThunderClan. It must be the only way to reach them. Taking a gulp of air, she leaped. As she plunged into the water, her breath caught in her throat. Cold pierced her fur. Eyes stinging, she ducked beneath the surface and fought her way down into the shadowy depths.
CHAPTER 26
Squirrelflight’s thoughts raced as darkness enclosed her. What if the pond was bottomless? Would she drown? She glanced back toward the surface, but it was hidden in shadow. She forced herself on. If she could see ThunderClan in these waters, there had to be a way through. The weight of the water crushed her fur. Blood roared in her ears. Panic shrilled in her pelt as her lungs screamed for air. I must go back! She floundered, jerking her muzzle around, looking for escape. In the shadows, she glimpsed an opening. She pushed toward it, but tangled roots blocked the way, and only deeper shadow lay beyond. She spun around, the weight of the water tugging at her limbs. Was there any way out?
Hope flashed in her chest as she spotted a light in the distance. She kicked out, pushing herself toward it, and pressed her mouth tighter shut, fighting the urge to breathe. Sparkpelt! Bramblestar! She had to get back to them. Dizzy with fear, she fought on.
Slowly, as though she were waking from a nightmare, the chill eased and the water loosened its grip. She felt weightless. Her hunger for breath vanished as the water around her seemed to dissolve into air. She pushed faster toward the light glittering ahead, feeling its warmth as it embraced her. The shadows melted away, and she felt earth grow solid beneath her paws.
She looked around. The ThunderClan camp! She was standing in the clearing. Afternoon sunshine washed her pelt as she watched her Clanmates move around her. Berrynose picked a shrew from the fresh-kill pile. Bristlepaw and Thriftpaw dragged old bedding from the elders’ den, while Leafshade pawed fallen leaves into a pile at the edge of the clearing. They worked quietly, and Squirrelflight could sense sadness like rain in the air, ruffling fur and shadowing gazes.
She stood still, expecting at any moment to be seen, but her Clanmates seemed unaware of her presence.
“Do you want the rest?” Stormcloud pushed a half-eaten mouse toward Hollytuft. “I’m not very hungry.”
“Neither am I.” Hollytuft gazed dully at the mouse.
Squirrelflight felt suddenly far away. Loneliness rang like an echo in her chest. She pushed it away and hurried to the nursery.
Inside, Sparkpelt lay in her nest while Daisy played with the kits. Sorrelstripe and her kits were outside.
“Come on, Flamekit.” Daisy ducked down and encouraged the black tom-kit to climb onto her back, where Finchkit was already sitting.
Finchkit puffed out her chest. “I got here first.”
“Only because you pushed me out of the way!” Flamekit flicked his tail indignantly and scrambled up beside her.
Finchkit tried to bat him away as he barged past her. “Hey! I want to go in front.”
“No fighting!” Daisy scolded. “There’s enough room for both of you.”
Squirrelflight glanced at Sparkpelt. Wasn’t she going to tell her kits to behave? Sparkpelt didn’t move, her gaze blank as though she was hardly aware of Daisy or her kits. Squirrelflight hurried across the den and crouched beside her. “Sparkpelt! Your kits need you!” Flamekit and Finchkit had a Clan to take care of them, but they still needed their mother. Didn’t Sparkpelt realize what she was missing? “Don’t give in to grief.” Squirrelflight remembered the closeness she had felt with her kits—it had always made her heart sing. “Sparkpelt!”
Sparkpelt’s ear twitched, but her gaze didn’t change. She doesn’t even know I’m here! Frustrated, Squirrelflight backed away as Daisy rolled, purring, to the ground, and sent Finchkit and Flamekit tumbling into the soft depths of her nest.
They squealed with delight and scrambled out.
“Do it again!” Finchkit clawed her way back onto Daisy’s shoulders. Flamekit clambered after her.
Sparkpelt didn’t move.
Heart pounding, Squirrelflight ducked out of the den. I have to live. Sparkpelt needs me. She hurried to the medicine den and pushed through the brambles. The small hollow was gloomy despite the sunlight seeping down from the opening above the pool. Alderheart leaned into one of the nests, and as Squirrelflight padded closer, she could see him press his ear to the flank of the she-cat inside. Unease wormed through her pelt as she saw her body, unmoving. Leafpool lay beside her, and Jayfeather crouched with his chin resting on the edge of the nest. His blind blue gaze seemed empty of hope. If only he knew that Leafpool was probably chasing Cinderpelt across meadows in StarClan now, energy pulsing through her paws.
“Is there any herb we haven’t tried?” Alderheart blinked at Jayfeather expectantly.
Jayfeather stared ahead. “We’ve tried everything. We can only hope now.”
<
br /> Squirrelflight wondered if prayers were any use. StarClan seemed as helpless to change destiny as any living cat. Her heart filled with love for Jayfeather and Alderheart. It seemed that they hadn’t moved for days. She’d been a mother to both of them, and her heart broke to see their sadness. She padded to Jayfeather’s side, the memory of StarClan’s judgment still fresh in her thoughts. Why should such a deceitful cat have a place in StarClan? How must it have felt for Jayfeather to discover that she wasn’t his mother? She’d lied to him since birth. Leafpool had too. Was that why he was so sharp with his Clanmates? Had bitterness hollowed out his heart? And yet she knew there was warmth there. His harshness was like snow in leaf-bare, hiding buds that would blossom when greenleaf returned. I have to live! She had so much still to share with him. “I’m sorry we deceived you,” she whispered, wondering if there was any way he might hear. He is a medicine cat, after all. “It was wrong of us. But I hope that one day you will let go of the hurt we caused you.” She swished her tail along his spine, hope sparking in her chest as she saw his pelt smooth a little.
Movement in the shadows at the edge of the den made her stiffen. Bramblestar had been there all along! She could taste his scent, but it was faint, as though he were far away. He padded to the nest where her body lay and sat beside Alderheart. “I wish I’d listened to her.” Bramblestar’s mew was husky with grief. Alderheart glanced at him, his pelt ruffling self-consciously as Bramblestar went on. “I ignored how strongly she felt. I didn’t want to hear about the Sisters. It made things too complicated. It was easier just to think about the Clans. But Squirrelflight could see beyond that. She knew that honor doesn’t mean anything if it can’t reach beyond our borders. Any cat can respect those they know and love. But respecting cats we don’t understand is truly being a warrior.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Alderheart murmured. “You were fighting for your Clan.”
“But Squirrelflight was my deputy,” Bramblestar argued. “And my mate. I should have taken her opinion seriously instead of brushing it aside.” His shoulders drooped. “If she dies, I don’t know if I can carry on being leader. I will be responsible for her death. I am not fit to lead my Clanmates if I don’t listen to them fairly.”
