by Erin Hunter
“No!” Squirrelflight darted to his side. “ThunderClan is more important than I am. Who else can lead it like you do?” She stared at him, willing him to hear, her heart aching with love for him, but he stared hopelessly at his paws.
“How did we lose sight of what mattered?” His mew was barely a whisper, but Squirrelflight could hear it as loudly as the wail of a kit. “Now I can feel it as strongly as ever. How did I forget how much I loved her?”
Squirrelflight pressed her muzzle against his. It felt like no more than air. But his scent was stronger now. It filled her mouth, bathed her tongue, flooded her chest. “Our love will always be there,” she breathed urgently. The ache in her heart seemed to draw his scent deeper. “Even when we lose sight of it, our love will still be there.”
Bramblestar slumped as though defeated.
Alderheart shifted his paws anxiously. “I’m sure she knew that you still loved her.” But he looked away, as though uncertain of his words. He got to his paws and headed for the entrance. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”
Squirrelflight hurried after the young tom as he nosed his way through the brambles. “I’m coming back!” she called after him as he padded into the clearing. Jayfeather had seemed comforted by her presence. Maybe Alderheart, too, could sense her assurances in some way? He crossed the camp. “Don’t worry.” She ducked after him through the entrance tunnel. “I’ll find my way back, I promise.”
Outside camp, a warm breeze tugged leaves from the trees. Alderheart paused on the slope and looked up as they showered around him. He seemed to be searching the canopy. What was he hoping to see? Squirrelflight’s heart leaped. Was he looking for a sign from StarClan? A sign! That was how StarClan communicated with the medicine cats while they were awake—with an omen. Could she send him one? Something to tell him she was okay and was trying to get home?
She looked around frantically. Could she affect anything in the forest? She darted among the trees and pushed through ferns, hoping to stir them. They didn’t move, but a blackbird shrilled an alarm above her head. Could it sense her? She spotted it calling from the branch of an oak and raced toward the trunk. It fluttered away as she neared. She could scare prey! She spun around, her heart pounding. Alderheart was still standing outside the camp, gazing upward. She had to be quick. She zigzagged between the ferns, hoping to flush out a mouse. Bark splinters sprinkled her back. She looked up. A squirrel was bobbing along the branch above her head. A squirrel! It was perfect. If she could send it running across Alderheart’s path, he might see it and wonder what a squirrel was doing so close to the camp. Prey was usually wise enough to stay clear. He would have to realize it was a sign! She leaped for the trunk and hooked her claws into the bark. Not long ago she’d been chasing squirrels in StarClan. This was far more serious. She had to let ThunderClan know that she was trying to get home.
The squirrel looked over its shoulder as she hauled herself onto the branch. Confusion clouded its gaze, but its pelt fluffed in alarm. If it couldn’t see her, it could sense her. It raced to the end and leaped into the branches of the next tree. Squirrelflight chased after it, flinging herself from the oak, paws outstretched. Her heart leaped into her throat as she glided through the air. With a gasp, she caught hold of the flimsy twigs jutting from a branch and jerked herself forward, scrabbling onto the thicker wood beyond. The squirrel was near the trunk. It looked up. She couldn’t let it climb higher. She had to chase it toward Alderheart. She pushed hard against the bark, driving herself forward, and leaped for the trunk. Startled, the squirrel turned, fear-scent pulsing from it, and flung itself from the branch. It landed nimbly on the forest floor. Squirrelflight jumped after it, landing as softly as a shadow. She darted in front of it, startling it into turning, then chased it toward the camp.
Excitement fizzed through her pelt as it darted past Alderheart. His gaze flashed toward it, his eyes widening in surprise. She pulled up and blinked at him. Had he understood the message? It’s me, Squirrelflight. I’m coming home.
Alderheart seemed to freeze. He stared after the squirrel; then he shook out his pelt and padded back into camp.
Frustration knotted her belly. Please understand! Was this what it was like to be a StarClan cat—trying to communicate with the living, and never being sure if they understood? For the first time she wondered how many signs from StarClan they missed every day without knowing.
She sat back on her haunches. She’d done all she could. Her pelt prickled with unease. What if she could never get back? Would she be stranded in the forest forever, like the dead cats the Sisters saw? She shivered and pushed the thought away. What had happened to the Sisters? The battle seemed to have left the rest of ThunderClan unscarred. Had the Sisters escaped so lightly? What had happened to Moonlight’s kits?
As her thoughts quickened, the forest blurred around her. She blinked, suddenly dizzy, and found herself in the Sisters’ camp. Startled, she looked around. Hawkwing was yowling orders to a SkyClan patrol.
“We’ll build the warriors’ den over there.” He nodded toward a space between the birthing den and the den where Squirrelflight and Leafstar had slept. “And that gorse bush will make a good den for the elders.”
Macgyver and Plumwillow sniffed around the gorse. Macgyver slid beneath the branches and popped out a moment later.
“We can dig out a hollow around the stem,” he told Hawkwing. “The earth is dry and sandy. It won’t take long.”
Sandynose pushed through the fern entrance. “There are plenty of brambles and vines we can gather.” He padded toward Hawkwing. “We can get the camp weatherproof by leaf-bare.”
“Good.” Hawkwing looked pleased.
Squirrelflight tasted the air for faint signs of the Sisters. Where were they? SkyClan had clearly claimed this land as their own. Her heart quickened. Had they driven the Sisters away?
She hurried across the clearing and followed the trail of tattered bushes to the site of the last battle. Her tail twitched as she saw the cave where the Sisters had taken shelter. It was a pile of rubble and stone now, branches sticking out like bones from rotted prey. She could see where earth had been dug out. Was that where her Clanmates had pulled out her body and Leafpool’s?
“Hey!” A mew made her jump. She spun, unsheathing her claws, instinctively dropping into a defensive warrior stance. Then she realized—some cat could see her!
She blinked as she saw the ghostly shape of a tabby she-cat padding from beside the landslide. She could see through it. She shivered, her pelt spiking. This cat was dead.
The cat lifted her tail in a friendly greeting. “You’re new here.” She dipped her head as she neared. “Did you die recently?”
Squirrelflight bristled. “I’m not dead.” She lifted her muzzle.
“Really?” The tabby reached out a paw and swept it through Squirrelflight’s forelegs.
Squirrelflight leaped away. “Hey!” Energy buzzed through her paws like the sparks from dry grass.
“You look dead to me,” the tabby mewed.
“It’s just temporary,” Squirrelflight told her. “While my body mends.”
“Sure.” The tabby sniffed, clearly unconvinced. “My name’s Blade.”
“I’m Squirrelflight.”
“Hi, Squirrelflight.” Blade nodded politely. “How did you die—I mean”—she corrected herself—“get injured?”
Squirrelflight nodded toward the landslide. “I was in there when it collapsed.”
“I hope it didn’t hurt too much.” The tabby swished her tail. “I got hit by a monster. I was dead before I could feel anything.”
“Did you live around here?” Had this cat seen the Sisters?
“Close enough.” Blade shrugged. “I lived with Twolegs, beyond the hills there.” She nodded toward the cliff face.
“You’re a kittypet?” Squirrelflight blinked at her.
“Aren’t you?”
“I’m a warrior,” Squirrelflight told her.
“Really?
” The tabby’s eyes widened. “Is that why you have such a weird name?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “I’ve never met a warrior before. Especially not a dead one. I wondered where you went after you died. I’ve only seen the Sisters since I died.”
Squirrelflight pricked her ears. “Do you know the Sisters?”
“Quite well.” Blade sat down and began to wash her ears. “They can see dead cats,” she mewed between licks. “I used to chat quite often with some of them.”
“Who?”
“One was called Moonlight,” Blade told her. “And I think another was Tempest?” She looked unsure.
Squirrelflight leaned forward. “Do you know what happened to them?”
“Those other cats.” Blade jerked her muzzle toward the Sisters’ camp. “They’re warriors too, right?”
“Yes.” Squirrelflight’s pelt twitched.
“When they came to look at the mess after the battle, they took the Sisters away. They were pretty beaten up.”
“Did they take Moonlight away?”
“I guess.”
“And her kits?” Squirrelflight stared desperately at Blade.
“Yes.” Blade tipped her head.
But no cat died, right? Squirrelflight was too anxious to ask. She searched the kittypet’s eyes. She’d have said if any cat had died, surely? “Where did they go?”
Blade shrugged. “I heard the big gray tom tell his friends to take them back to camp.”
The SkyClan camp? Squirrelflight could hardly believe her ears. Of course—Leafstar hadn’t let her warriors take part in the battle. If they were to shelter with any Clan, it would be with SkyClan. Hope flashed beneath her pelt. Were the Sisters safe at last?
“Thanks, Blade.” She turned and began to head for the forest. She had to see for herself if the Sisters were okay. The valley became hazy around her, and the ground seemed to shift beneath her paws. A moment later she found herself in the SkyClan camp. She flicked her tail. This instant traveling was useful! She wished she could do it while she was alive.
Pain burst inside her head like burning ice. She winced, her paws trembling beneath her, as it hardened and grew sharper. Closing her eyes, she stood still, relief melting inside her as slowly it eased. What was that? Foreboding welled at the edge of her thoughts. She pushed it away. Perhaps Alderheart was trying a new treatment.
She forced herself to focus on the SkyClan camp, startled as Fidgetflake brushed past her, oblivious as he sent sparks fizzing through Squirrelflight’s fur. Squirrelflight shook her pelt out as Fidgetflake ducked into the medicine den. Quickly, she followed, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the shadows inside.
Moonlight was lying in a wide, bracken nest while Frecklewish sorted herbs beside her. The gray she-cat’s eyes were closed, and gashes crisscrossed her flank. Her muzzle was clogged with dried blood.
“Has she woken yet?” Fidgetflake asked softly.
Frecklewish shook her head. “I wish she were doing better.” She tore a bunch of dried marigold apart. “I’ve put new ointment on her wounds, but the infection is hard to get rid of”
“Her kits are doing well,” Fidgetflake told her. “They’re nursing happily, and Violetshine says she’s got plenty of milk now that her own kits are weaned. I’ve told Leafstar that she’ll need extra fresh-kill to keep her strength up.”
“Good.” Frecklewish crumbled leaves into a pile. “How are the other Sisters?”
“Quiet.” Fidgetflake glanced toward the entrance. “They wish they weren’t here, but they know it’s the best place for Moonlight.”
“I just hope we can heal her.” Frecklewish’s eyes glittered with worry as she glanced at the gray she-cat.
Fidgetflake stiffened and blinked suddenly at Squirrelflight.
Squirrelflight froze. Can she see me? Her breath caught in her throat. Then she realized that the young medicine cat wasn’t staring at her; she was staring straight through her.
“I can smell ThunderClan.” Fidgetflake frowned.
“It’s probably left over from the battle,” Frecklewish told her.
As she spoke, the entrance rustled. Tree poked his head in. “I’m going hunting. Does Moonlight need fresh-kill yet?”
“Not yet.”
As Frecklewish got to her paws, Tree’s eyes widened. Surprise flashed in his gaze. Squirrelflight’s pelt spiked with alarm. He’s looking straight at me! Hope flashed in her heart. Of course! He can see ghosts.
“Tree?” Frecklewish narrowed her eyes. “Are you okay?”
He blinked and shook out his pelt, snatching his gaze away from Squirrelflight. “Y-yeah,” he mewed. He ducked out of the den.
Squirrelflight followed him out. “You can see me, can’t you?” She followed him as he padded quickly across the camp.
“I can’t talk to you here,” he hissed under his breath. He led her out of camp and a little way into the forest. Scanning the trees, he halted. He stared at her, his eyes rounding with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Squirrelflight frowned. What was he sorry about?
“That you died,” he mewed. “I knew you got hurt, but we all hoped you’d survive.”
“I’m not dead yet.” Squirrelflight swished her tail. “I’m kind of . . . in between StarClan and ThunderClan at the moment.”
Tree’s ears twitched. “I didn’t know that was possible,” he mewed.
“Neither did I.” Squirrelflight sat down. “But apparently it is.”
“Is Moonlight with you?” He peered past her. “She’s been unconscious for days. Frecklewish isn’t sure she’s going to make it.”
“I haven’t seen her,” Squirrelflight told him, wondering suddenly if Moonlight’s spirit was roaming the forest nearby. As she glanced between the trees, another pain seemed to pierce her eyes and stab into her head. It burned along her spine, and she staggered, gasping at the intensity.
“Squirrelflight?” Tree stepped closer, alarm spiking through his pelt. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” She took a breath as the pain eased a little. She was trembling.
“You started to fade.” Tree sounded scared.
Squirrelflight’s blinked at him, her paws pricking. “I don’t think I can stay here.” Had Alderheart found a way to wake her at last, or was StarClan tugging her back? Am I dying? Her heart lurched. “If I don’t wake up,” she breathed urgently as the forest began to glitter around her, “you have to give Bramblestar a message.”
Tree leaned toward her. “What?”
“You must tell him to go on without me. He has to lead ThunderClan. They need him. Tell him I love him and I’m waiting for him in StarClan. Tell Sparkpelt that I’ve seen Larksong. He’s named their kit Flickerkit. They’re with Firestar and Sandstorm.” Starlight filled the forest, dazzling her. “Tell Alderheart . . .” Pain flared in her head once more, and before she could finish, darkness swallowed her.
CHAPTER 27
Squirrelflight struggled to open her eyes. Weak light surrounded her, and she felt stiff stalks of bracken beneath her. Her head throbbed. Pain scorched her hind leg as though a fox were tearing at it. She tried to look at it, and paws slipped beneath her head, cradling it like a kit.
“Where am I?” Was she home?
“In the medicine den.”
She recognized Jayfeather’s mew. She strained to make sense of the shadows moving around her. Scents flooded her nose—Alderheart, Jayfeather, Bramblestar, the tang of herbs, and a sickly, sweet scent that filled her with dread. The shadows shifted and became clear. She could see the roof of the den, and the gap where light filtered down to the pool.
The paws behind her head moved, and she saw Jayfeather leaning over her. She flinched as he dripped sap into her mouth, then recoiled as the bitter taste bathed her tongue.
“It will help.” Alderheart’s mew sounded close to her ear. She realized, as he gently lowered his head, that his paws were the ones supporting her. She struggled to sit up, but pain split her head, and the
fox seemed to tear more viciously at her leg.
“Don’t try to move.” Bramblestar was close. She felt his warm breath on her cheek and breathed in his scent, her heart aching with relief. She was home and she was with him. He loved her again.
An idea worried at the edge of her thoughts. Who was taking care of Leafpool? Alderheart and Jayfeather were both at her nest. Was her sister already awake? Squirrelflight craned to see. “Leafpool?”
Jayfeather moved and blocked her gaze.
“Leafpool!” Alarm sparked in Squirrelflight’s belly as she recognized the sweet, sickly scent for what it was. Flailing her paws, she pushed him away. She ignored the pain piercing her leg and struggled to the side of her nest. Leafpool lay limp in her nest. Horror hollowed her belly as she realized her sister’s blank, cloudy gaze could mean only one thing. Leafpool was dead.
“Leafpool!” She heard herself wail as though hearing an owl hoot way off in the forest. It couldn’t be true. Grief seemed to rise up like a flood from the earth and drag her once more into darkness.
“Leafpool!” She opened her eyes. Her pain was gone.
“Squirrelflight?” Leafpool was leaning over her. Sunshine sparkled around her. “You came back.”
Relief swamped Squirrelflight. She scrambled to her paws and pressed her cheek against Leafpool’s. “I thought I’d lost you. But you’re here.” Soft grass rippled around her paws. Meadows stretched away on every side, dazzling in bright daylight. She stiffened and pulled away as she understood. This was StarClan’s territory. She blinked at Leafpool. “Did I die too?”
“Not yet.” Leafpool’s eyes shone with love. Stars studded her pelt so that she glittered like the Moonpool.
Squirrelflight stared at her, grief tearing at her heart. “But you did.” Her words were no more than a whisper.
“I’m glad to be here.” Leafpool’s eyes glistened. “I have so many friends here.”
“But you have friends in ThunderClan.” Squirrelflight stared at her. Could she really be glad to be dead?
