by Erin Hunter
It clawed at Squirrelflight’s heart, but she forced her pelt to stay smooth. “Say whatever you want, Jayfeather.”
Jayfeather flicked his tail. “She was a good medicine cat. She trained me well and I loved her for it.” He frowned. “Then I discovered she was my mother and that she’d lied to me since I was born. Hollyleaf died defending her lie even though Leafpool had abandoned us.”
On the other side of the clearing, Lionblaze bristled. He glared at Jayfeather. “What else could she do?”
“Tell the truth?”
“Then what?” The golden warrior’s eyes flashed. “Did you want her to give up being a medicine cat for you? Would you give up being a medicine cat for anyone?” He flattened his ears when Jayfeather didn’t answer. “No. I thought not.”
Jayfeather eyed him angrily. “You didn’t give me chance to finish. I was about to say that I forgave her eventually. Even though I could never love her as a mother after what she’d done, I respected her as a medicine cat and loved her as a Clanmate.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t pretend you loved her any more than I did.”
Lionblaze’s eyes glittered with grief. “I wish I’d loved her more.” His mew was husky. “She deserved to be loved. She was loyal and good and kind.”
Squirrelflight’s eyes pricked. “She was loved.” She got to her paws, wincing at the pain. “I loved her. Her final act was to save a litter of kits. They were the kits of an outsider—a stranger to our land, and to our code. But Leafpool saw every life as important, and she died saving something she cherished most of all—kits.” She glanced at Jayfeather and Lionblaze. “She told me to tell you that she always loved you as your mother and she always will. She only lied to protect you.” Lionblaze looked at his paws. Jayfeather gazed blindly into the gathering darkness as Squirrelflight went on. “She said that she’d never forgive herself for the pain she caused you, but I hope she finds peace in StarClan, because she deserves to be happy.” Night hid her Clanmates in shadow, but she could see their eyes glistening in the moonlight. “Leafpool was the best littermate I could have had. I will miss her so much, but I know that she will always be with me, watching from StarClan.”
As she finished, a breeze sent leaves showering into the clearing. They drifted down, as pale in the moonlight as Leafpool’s amber eyes. Is she sending me a message? Squirrelflight looked at the stars, her heart pricking with hope. Even though Leafpool was in StarClan, Squirrelflight knew she wasn’t very far away.
CHAPTER 29
Squirrelflight nosed her way into the nursery. It had been a long night, and she was stiff from sitting vigil beside Leafpool’s body. Bramblestar had sat with her, pressing close to protect her from the chill. It had felt good to spend the time with Leafpool, to breathe in her scent for the last time and honor her memory with their Clanmates. Bramblestar was helping to bury her now. Squirrelflight had chosen the spot, in a quiet grove where Leafpool had loved to gather thyme.
Daisy sprawled near the nursery entrance, letting Flamekit clamber over her. Quivering with excitement, Finchkit pressed her belly to the ground and, like a warrior stalking prey, watched Daisy’s tail flicking back and forth.
“Squirrelflight!” Flamekit’s happy mew jerked her from her thoughts. The black tom-kit raced toward her and rubbed around her legs, purring.
Finchkit looked up, pricking her ears. “Are you better now?” she asked.
“I am,” Squirrelflight told her.
Flamekit sniffed at the splint on her hind leg. “Why have you got this?”
“It’s to support my leg while it heals.”
“Does it hurt?” Finchkit sniffed the splint too.
“It’s sore, but it’ll improve in a few days.” Squirrelflight glanced across the den. Sparkpelt lay in her nest, her chin hanging listlessly over the edge.
Stormcloud was with her, pushing a mouse a little closer to her muzzle. “Just try a bit,” he murmured. “It might help you feel better.”
Sparkpelt didn’t look at him. “Why would I want that?”
“Your kits need you,” Stormcloud edged the mouse a little nearer.
“I’m feeding them, aren’t I?” Sparkpelt pushed the mouse away.
“Which means you need more food, not less.” Stormcloud’s eyes darkened with worry. “You must be hungry. You hardly ate yesterday.”
Daisy sat up. “He’s been coming every day,” she whispered to Squirrelflight. “Trying to persuade her to eat and cheer her up.” She sighed softly. “I’m beginning to think he’s wasting his time.”
“Does she ever play with the kits?” Squirrelflight asked quietly.
“She only gets out of her nest to make dirt.” Daisy shook her head sadly. “If she doesn’t take an interest in the kits soon, they’re going to think I’m their mother.”
Squirrelflight lifted her chin. What could she say to help Sparkpelt out of her grief? She crossed the den and stopped beside Sparkpelt’s nest. “I thought you might come to the vigil,” she mewed softly, trying to catch Sparkpelt’s eye.
Sparkpelt stared at the ground. “I’ve had enough of vigils,” she growled.
“Let’s hope it’s the last for a while,” Stormcloud meowed darkly.
“Vigils are a part of a warrior’s life,’” Squirrelflight told him briskly. “You can’t wish them away. You have to deal with them as they come.” She looked sternly at Sparkpelt. “You can’t let grief spoil what you still have.”
Sparkpelt didn’t react.
“Your kits are a blessing,” Squirrelflight went on. “You should enjoy them while you can. They’ll be grown before you know it.”
Sparkpelt stared ahead blankly as Flamekit and Finchkit chased each other between Daisy’s legs.
“I saw Larksong,” Squirrelflight mewed softly.
Sparkpelt jerked up her head. “Where?”
“When I was hurt,” Squirrelflight told her. “I saw him in StarClan.”
“You were never in StarClan,” Sparkpelt grunted. She circled in her nest, tramping the bracken into a fresh hollow before slumping heavily into it. “You’re making it up to make me feel better.”
“He had Flickerkit with him,” Squirrelflight pressed.
“Flickerkit?”
“That’s what he named your kit.” Squirrelflight searched her daughter’s gaze, searching for a glimmer of happiness.
Sparkpelt lifted her chin. Interest sparked in her emerald eyes. “That’s the name we chose for him. No one knew it but me and Larksong.”
“Larksong told me to tell you he loves you and he’s okay. He’s going to look after Flickerkit until you join them, and he wants you to be happy. He wants you to make a good life without him. He doesn’t want you to grieve.”
Sparkpelt stared at her mother, her gaze suddenly far away.
Squirrelflight’s heart ached as her daughter’s eyes glistened. She wished she could make her pain go away, but she knew Sparkpelt must face it alone. Time would help, and love. She called to the kits. “Come play with your mother.”
Flamekit looked at her, puzzled. “But Daisy likes playing with us. Sparkpelt just wants to sleep.”
Sparkpelt sat up. “No I don’t,” she mewed earnestly. “Not anymore.”
Squirrelflight pricked her ears. It was the first flash of energy her daughter had shown since Larksong’s death. She hurried to Flamekit and scooped him up by his scruff.
“Hey!” Flamekit churned his paws in the air as Squirrelflight carried him across the den. “I was playing with Finchkit.”
Squirrelflight dropped him in front of Sparkpelt. “Finchkit can come too.” She beckoned his sister over.
Sparkpelt blinked nervously at her kits, as though she didn’t know what to do.
“Here.” Stormcloud quickly tore a lump of moss from her nest and rolled it into a ball. He bowled it past the kits
Flamekit leaped after it instantly, his pelt fluffing with excitement. Finchkit’s eyes rounded with determination. She lunged for the ball and knocked it away.<
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Squirrelflight nodded to Sparkpelt. “Go on,” she encouraged.
Sparkpelt hesitated, then reached out a paw and scooped the moss ball away from the kits. They turned on her, pelts prickling with indignation.
“That was ours!” Finchkit told her.
“Then you’d better catch it!” Sparkpelt knocked the moss ball across the den floor.
Squeaking happily, Flamekit and Finchkit chased after it. Sparkpelt’s eyes glowed. She hurried after her kits and hooked the ball away again, this time tossing it high above their heads. Flamekit leaped for it, spinning as he jumped.
“Great catch!” Sparkpelt mewed as he snatched the moss ball from the air.
“Throw it again!” Finchkit stared eagerly at her mother. “I want to catch it too!”
Sparkpelt purred and threw the moss ball high, watching proudly as Finchkit batted it away before it hit the ground. “You’re going to be great hunters,” she told them.
“Can we go and practice on real prey?” Finchkit blinked at her.
“Not yet.” Sparkpelt’s eyes were bright now. “But we can go outside if you like.”
“It’s a perfect day for chasing leaves,” Stormcloud told her.
“Outside the den?” Flamekit’s pelt bushed with excitement.
Finchkit stuck her tail in the air and marched to the den entrance. “I’m going first.”
“No you’re not!” Flamekit hared after and tried to barge past as she reached the opening in the brambles. Finchkit pushed him away and scrambled out of the den.
“Be nice!” Purring now, Sparkpelt hurried after them. “And fluff out your fur properly! It’s chilly outside.”
Stormcloud watched her go. “Do you think she’s going to be okay?”
“It will take time.” Hope glimmered in Squirrelflight’s chest. “But with the help of her kits and her Clan, she’ll find a way to get over Larksong’s death.” She ducked out of the den. Flamekit and Finchkit were already chasing across the clearing as the wind whisked a leaf ahead of them. Sparkpelt bounded after them, her tail fluffed with excitement as a fresh flurry of leaves showered down and the kits leaped for them, squealing with delight.
Squirrelflight sat down to rest her leg. Why had she wanted kits of her own so much? There would always be kits in the Clan. It didn’t matter that they weren’t hers. The Clan was like kin, and their kits would be her kits too. The Sisters weren’t the only cats to believe that a kit belonged to every cat. Had she forgotten that warriors had been helping to raise one another’s kits for moons? She purred to herself. That would never change.
A brisk wind swished through the branches above the camp. Fluffing out her fur, Squirrelflight headed toward the entrance. For the first time since she’d left the medicine den, her hind leg felt strong enough for her to make the journey to SkyClan’s camp. She wanted to see how Moonlight was doing. Had the Sisters moved on? She quickened her pace. She hoped not. She wanted to speak to them one last time before they left.
She waited at the border until she spotted Hawkwing, Sparrowpelt, and Blossomheart moving through the undergrowth a tree-length away. “Hawkwing.” Her mew rang between the trees.
Hawkwing turned his broad face toward her. He pricked his ears. “Hi, Squirrelflight.” He hurried over while Sparrowpelt and Blossomheart sniffed at the roots of an alder. “It’s good to see you.” His gaze flitted over her. “Are you well?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“I’m sorry about your loss.”
His reminder sent fresh tremors of grief through her heart. “She’s in StarClan now.” It was a reminder to herself as much as him. She’s happy. “I’ve come to see the Sisters.”
“They’ve moved to a temporary camp on the edge of our territory.” He nodded between the trees.
Squirrelflight followed his gaze. “Do you think they’ll mind if I visit? I want to see how Moonlight is doing.”
“Moonlight is dead.”
Squirrelflight’s breath caught in her throat. “But Frecklewish and Fidgetflake were taking care of her.”
“They did their best.” Hawkwing’s gaze was dark. “But she was too badly injured in the battle.” His tail twitched angrily. “Four Clans against a small group of loners. I’m just glad SkyClan wasn’t involved.”
Shame washed Squirrelflight’s pelt. She wanted to apologize for her Clan’s part in the attack, but she knew Bramblestar had only done what he thought was right at the time. “I hope next time, ThunderClan won’t be involved either.”
“Let’s hope there isn’t a next time.” Hawkwing looked toward his camp. “The Sisters will be moving on once Moonlight’s kits are weaned. Violetshine is feeding them since none of the Sisters can. We’ll probably be in our new camp by the time they leave.”
“Then the battle was for nothing.” Squirrelflight blinked at him. “We could have waited until they left, and Moonlight would still be alive.” Anger surged beneath her pelt.
“You want to see them? Tempest and Snow are in our camp right now.”
“I’d like to talk to them before they go,” Squirrelflight told him. “I want to tell them I’m sorry for their loss. Moonlight will be missed.”
Hawkwing nodded her across the border. “You can speak to them there, and meet Moonlight’s kits. They’re growing fast.”
Squirrelflight blinked at him gratefully. “Thanks.”
He called to Blossomheart and Sparrowpelt. “Carry on hunting,” he told them. “I’ll catch up with you once I’ve seen Squirrelflight to the camp.”
Blossomheart flicked her tail without looking up. She was stalking something between the brambles.
Hawkwing led Squirrelflight toward the camp.
“Do you think you’ll like your new territory?” Squirrelflight asked.
“Yes.” Hawkwing ducked under a low branch. “It’s fine land and there’s good hunting there. I’m looking forward to getting out of the forest. I never could get used to living in the dark.” He purred teasingly. “You and ShadowClan live like owls.”
“We’ll be warm in leaf-bare,” she told him.
“So will we.” Hawkwing shook out his pelt. “That valley seems pretty sheltered. I can see why the Sisters chose it.”
They were nearing the camp now; SkyClan scents washed Squirrelflight’s muzzle. She could smell the Sisters too. Snow’s scent hung in the air at the entrance. Squirrelflight ducked through it after Hawkwing and padded into the SkyClan camp.
Leafstar was sharing a rabbit with Harrybrook and Sandynose at the far end of the clearing. She looked up as Squirrelflight crossed the camp. “Welcome.” She got to her paws.
“Hi.” Squirrelflight dipped her head politely as Leafstar reached her. “Hawkwing told me about Moonlight.”
“I was sorry that she died.” Leafstar glanced toward the nursery. Violetshine was tugging old bedding outside while Rootkit and Needlekit chased after the trailing bracken. Snow was outside, curled around two gray, fluffy kits while Tempest washed a third gray kit, who mewled in complaint.
“I’m not dirty!” the kit wailed indignantly.
“You’ve got moss stains behind your ears,” Tempest told him between laps.
“Can I speak to Snow and Tempest?” Squirrelflight’s heart quickened.
“Of course.” Leafstar nodded and turned back toward her meal. “Take as long as you like.”
Snow looked up as Squirrelflight neared, her eyes shining. The gray, fluffy kits clambered over her flank and charged away. They flung themselves onto the bedding Violetshine was dragging.
“Don’t make a nuisance of yourselves!” Snow called after them.
“It’s okay!” Rootkit began to help Violetshine haul the bracken to the edge of the clearing, while Needlekit bounced around it, making faces at the two younger kits.
“I want to play too!” The third kit ducked away from Tempest and raced toward the others.
Tempest watched him go, her eyes shining. “He’s going to be trouble,” she mewed affectiona
tely.
“He’s a tom,” Snow joked as she got to her paws. She nodded to Squirrelflight. “I’m glad to see you looking so well.”
“You too.” Squirrelflight felt a surge of fondness for the white she-cat. “Moonlight’s kits look happy here.”
“They are,” Snow told her. “It’s good of Violetshine to feed them.”
“But we want to leave as soon as we can, to make sure they don’t become warriors,” Tempest mewed.
Squirrelflight understood. Warriors had killed their leader. “I’m sorry to hear about Moonlight.”
Snow’s gaze glistened with sadness. “She died defending her kits,” she mewed. “It was an honorable way to die. Besides, we still see her.”
Of course. Squirrelflight’s pelt prickled. The Sisters could see the dead. “Do you talk to her?”
“Yes.” Snow brightened. “She wanted me to thank you for saving her kits from the landslide. And for trying to save us from your Clanmates. It was a courageous thing to do.”
“I’m sorry it turned into a battle.” Squirrelflight blinked at her earnestly. “I wish I could have persuaded the Clans to wait.”
“You did what you could.” Tempest shrugged. “They have our land now, which is what they wanted. I just hope it brings them the peace that they’re looking for.” She looked doubtful.
Snow shook her head. “Toms never want peace,” she sniffed. “We’re better off without them.”
“Some toms like to fight,” Squirrelflight mewed quickly. “But Bramblestar never wanted it to go so far. He was outnumbered by the other Clans.”
“At least you stood up for us,” Tempest mewed.
“Even though you were outnumbered too.” There was an edge to Snow’s mew. “We know what it cost you.” Her gaze darkened. “Tree told us about Leafpool. We’re sorry she died. Our kits owe her their lives. Sunrise does too.” She glanced toward the kits, who were chasing Rootkit and Needlekit across the clearing. “Moonlight will always be grateful.”
“Where will you go?” Squirrelflight asked.
“Moonlight says we should head across the lake,” Snow told her. “Beyond the moors. We haven’t been there before.”
