Mistystar's Omen (3 page)

Mothwing appeared beside her. “Are you ready to name your deputy? The moon is rising.”

The cats closest to them pricked their ears, and Mistyfoot felt their gazes prick her pelt. She nodded and stood up. “Let all cats old enough to swim gather to hear my words!”

At once the line of cats stopped moving and turned to face her. They all knew what was coming. Would they approve of her choice? Mistyfoot wondered. Once more she felt her legs tremble beneath the weight of new duties, and she took a step toward Mothwing so she could draw strength from the warmth of the medicine cat's fur.

“It is time for me to name my deputy,” Mistyfoot announced, her voice sounding sharp and high-pitched in the cool night air. “Reedwhisker, I invite you to walk beside me and help me to lead this Clan. May StarClan hear and approve my choice.”

There was a moment of silence; then the cats broke into cheers. “Reedwhisker! Congratulations!”

Mistyfoot's son stepped forward, his dark gray eyes shining. “I am honored to be chosen,” he purred. “And I will lay down my life to protect you and my Clanmates.”

“Hopefully it won't come to that,” Mistyfoot told him. She stretched out her neck to rest her muzzle on top of his head. Reedwhisker's fur still smelled as it had when he was her kit.

There was a cross-sounding mutter from the shadows at the edge of the clearing: “I bet she only chose him because he's her son!”

“Hush, Mossypaw!” snapped Minnowtail. “Reedwhisker is a loyal and brave warrior, and will make a great deputy.”

I hope so,
thought Mistyfoot. She had expected some criticism for naming her son as her deputy, but she wanted to believe that wasn't the reason behind her decision.

“A brave choice,” murmured Mothwing in her ear. “But the right one, I think.”

Mistyfoot felt a bit better, but she would have been more comforted if Mothwing had mentioned some sign of approval from StarClan, or even an omen that foresaw her announcement.

“Excuse me, Mistyfoot?” Duskfur was standing in front of her. “Is it okay if I take my little ones off now? They're getting tired.”

Mistyfoot looked at the two kits, who were yawning and blinking their huge, round eyes. “Of course,” she purred.

As Duskfur herded her family across the clearing, the line of cats started moving again.

“Farewell, Leopardstar. May you have good hunting in StarClan.”

“We'll meet again, old friend. Save me a place to enjoy the sun.”

“Wow! I've never seen a dead body before! What's all that green stuff on her fur?”

“Rushpaw, go to your den if you can't behave properly. And put that watermint down!”

Finally Mistyfoot was alone in the clearing with Leopardstar and the elders, who would stay beside their former leader all night. Mistyfoot bent and touched her muzzle to Leopardstar's cool, leaf-thin ear. “May the sun warm your back and the fish leap into your paws,” she murmured.

“I haven't heard that said for a long time,” rasped Pouncetail. “Not since we lived in the forest.”

“Graypool used to say it when Stonefur and I were going to sleep,” Mistyfoot mewed. “It was her way of wishing us good dreams.”

“Ah, Stonefur,” sighed Pouncetail. “I still miss him.” He looked at Mistyfoot, narrowing his eyes through the gloom. “You had much to forgive Leopardstar for, didn't you?”

Mistyfoot swallowed. “She was a good leader for most of her life,” she replied. “That is what she should be remembered for.” She lay down with her nose pressed against Leopardstar's fur.
I promise to be the strongest, wisest leader I can be. I will do my best to echo your loyalty to RiverClan and your courage to speak out on our behalf, and I will learn from your mistakes. I know that I don't need to prove to the other Clans that RiverClan is the strongest or most powerful. I just want my Clanmates to be happy and at peace.

“And that is the best ambition of all,” murmured a voice behind her.

Mistyfoot sprang up and spun around. A gray cat stood behind her, this thick fur glowing with starlight. “Stonefur!”

The cat nodded. “Did you think I would miss this night?” he meowed. “I have been watching you all this time, and I am so proud that you are going to lead our Clan.”

Mistyfoot's tail drooped. “It should have been you.”

Stonefur shook his head. “That was not my destiny. I wish you well, Mistyfoot. You will need great courage for what lies ahead, but remember that you are not alone. I will always walk beside you. We will meet again soon.”

His fur began to fade, until Mistyfoot could see the dark leaves on the bushes behind him. “Wait!” she called. “What do you mean? Why will I need great courage? Is there a battle coming?”

But there was no answer, just a muffled snore from Pouncetail, who was sleeping beside her. Mistyfoot stared wildly around the clearing, but her brother had gone. Had he been trying to warn her that something dreadful was on the horizon? There was no chance that Mistyfoot would be able to sleep now. She padded carefully past the sleeping elders and went to the entrance of the medicine cats' den.

“Mothwing!” she called in a loud whisper.

There was a faint murmur from behind the boulders; then the medicine cat appeared. She looked wide-eyed and ruffled, as if she hadn't been able to sleep either. “What it is?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

“I need to go to the Moonpool now!” Mistyfoot told her. “Stonefur visited me in a dream, and there are things I need to ask him.”

Mothwing looked alarmed. “Why? What did he say?”

“Nothing that made sense!” Mistyfoot hissed. “Come on, we have to go!”

“It would be safer to wait until dawn,” Mothwing hedged. “Since we have to cross WindClan territory.”

“No, we have to leave now,” Mistyfoot insisted. “If trouble is coming, RiverClan cannot be without a leader any longer! There is so much I have to learn!”

Mothwing padded out from her den and shook a few clinging scraps of herb from her fur. “Yes,” she murmured. “There is more to learn than you know.”

Chapter 3

The first light of dawn was
beginning to appear on the horizon when Mistyfoot and Mothwing reached the top of WindClan's ridge. It had been too early for any patrols, so they had crossed the moor unchallenged, traveling in silence apart from the soft brush of their paws on the grass. Mistyfoot paused to catch her breath at the crest of the hill and looked back down at the lake. The water looked thick and almost black from here, pushing against the curls and points of the shoreline. The RiverClan camp was a dark smudge on the far side; Mistyfoot pictured the cats in the clearing, and she wondered if any of them were looking up at the ridge at this moment, spotting her silhouetted against the milky sunrise.

Beside her, Mothwing shifted her paws. “We should keep going,” she meowed. Mistyfoot was surprised that she didn't seem more excited about the nine lives ceremony. Was visiting the Moonpool and sharing tongues with StarClan just a matter of routine for medicine cats?

Their pace slowed as they began the long, steep scramble over the rocks. Mistyfoot had only traveled this way once before, and she had forgotten how hard it was—or perhaps her legs had just grown older.

“Is it much farther?” she panted after losing her grip on one boulder and almost falling off backward.

“No,” Mothwing replied over her shoulder. “See those bushes up there? The path that leads down to the Moonpool is just behind them.”

Mistyfoot's head was spinning by the time they pushed their way through the thorny branches and started to follow the spiraling path downward. Her paws slotted into the imprints left by generations of cats before, and for a moment she felt their pelts brush past her, bathing her in musky scent.
Welcome, welcome.
Did she hear their voices, too, or was it just her imagination?

Mothwing led her to the edge of the pool. It gleamed under the pale sunlight, reflecting the clouds and the swift flight of a bird across its surface. Mistyfoot's heart started to beat faster. This was it! She was actually going to be the leader of RiverClan! She glanced at Mothwing and was surprised to see that the medicine cat looked nervous too. The tip of her fluffy tail was twitching, and she seemed reluctant to meet Mistyfoot's gaze. Perhaps she was feeling anxious about the unfamiliar ceremony after all.

“You'll be fine,” Mistyfoot reassured her old friend. “It's the first time for both of us, but we'll get through it together.”

Mothwing just blinked. “Lie down at the edge of the pool,” she instructed, “and let your muzzle touch the water.”

Mistyfoot settled down with her paws tucked under her. The stone was cold beneath her belly, but the water was colder still, sparkling like ice against her nose. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Good luck,” she heard Mothwing say softly, as though she were very far away.

There was a rush of stars around her, and then a dizzying blackness swallowed her up. Mistyfoot fought the urge to cry out.
Am I falling?
There were whispers and cries in her ears, but none of them clear enough to hear, and the scents of many cats, some half-recognized, some strange and sharp. Just as Mistyfoot was about to shriek in terror, she felt firm sand underneath her paws. She opened her eyes and looked around. She was standing on a gently sloping shore beside a broad, shallow river that splashed over pebbles and carried the scent of fish. Above, the sky was bright and the sun blazed down, warming her fur. Mistyfoot felt an urge to wade into the water and let fish swim onto her claws; somehow she knew there would be no difficulty in catching a haul of prey.

The bushes behind her rustled, and a pale gray cat appeared. For a moment Mistyfoot thought it was her brother, Stonefur, but then she recognized the scent and knew it was Graypool, the RiverClan she-cat she had called mother for so long. Mistyfoot purred loudly, and in two strides Graypool was beside her, licking her fur and nuzzling her head with her chin. Mistyfoot buried her nose in Graypool's feather-soft chest, suddenly feeling like a kit again.

“I'm so worried I'll make a mistake in the ceremony,” she confessed.

“Hush, little one,” Graypool soothed her. “You'll be fine. There's nothing to get wrong; I promise. Are you ready?”

Mistyfoot straightened up and nodded. She was startled to realize that the shore was crowded with cats now, their fur lit by stars and their eyes shining with warmth. She wondered for a fleeting moment where Mothwing was, but then Graypool stepped forward and lifted her voice above the splashing of the river.

“My precious Mistyfoot, beloved nearly-daughter, I give you a life for loving your Clanmates as if each cat were your kit, borne of your body and your pain.” She rested her muzzle against Mistyfoot's, and a bolt like lightning shot through Mistyfoot's pelt. She squeaked and leaped back in pain, but Graypool's eyes glowed at her, giving her strength, and Mistyfoot dug her claws into the sand to hold her ground. The fire beneath her skin passed and she gasped for breath.

“Thank you, Graypool,” she whispered. The she-cat nodded and stepped back.

Then a familiar shape loomed over Mistyfoot, and she basked in her brother's scent. “I told you we would meet again,” Stonefur purred. “I give you a life for treating all cats equally, for fighting against injustice and unfairness wherever it comes.”

Mistyfoot braced herself, but the shock from this life was less severe, feeling instead like a wave of strength building inside her, swelling from nose to tail-tip until she felt as if she could leap over mountains.

The next cat was a slender, soft-furred gray tabby with eyes that reflected the blue of the sky. “Feathertail!” Mistyfoot cried. “I have missed you!”

Feathertail's gaze softened. “I have missed you too, Mistyfoot. I haven't forgotten the lessons I learned as your apprentice. The life I give you is for accepting your destiny, however hard that may seem. Some things are beyond our control; that doesn't mean they should be fought against.”

This life was uncomfortable, prickling like thorns and choking her like a fishbone caught in her throat. Mistyfoot struggled to keep still and not spit out the invisible bone. Perhaps this was a warning of how difficult her destiny was going to be? Mistyfoot felt a tremor of unease.

“Welcome, Mistyfoot,” purred a deep voice. She opened her eyes to see Crookedstar, leader of RiverClan before Leopardstar, looking down at her. Mistyfoot bowed her head. “You don't have to do that now,” Crookedstar reminded her. “We are equals here. I give you a life with the wisdom and strength to carry the burden of leadership. It will weigh heavy, but remember that every problem is nothing more than a challenge to be overcome.”

Mistyfoot's legs buckled as she felt a huge, invisible pressure crushing her. She forced herself to stand straight, and felt the pressure transform into a soft, powerful warmth.
I am strong enough to carry this burden,
she told herself.

The next life came from the broad-shouldered brown tabby Oakheart, who had been Crookedstar's brother and deputy. But Mistyfoot knew him now as something else: her father. “My beautiful daughter,” he murmured, resting his muzzle against her ears. “I am so sorry I could not be a true father to you. Live well, believe in yourself, and we will walk in StarClan together one day. I give you a life with the courage to follow your heart,” he purred, and Mistyfoot braced herself against the jolt of feeling that seared through her. She felt a flash of sorrow as her father stepped away from her, but almost at once another cat was close beside her, breathing warmly into her ear.

“Oh, my daughter,” Bluestar whispered. “If only you knew how much I missed you.”

Mistyfoot lifted her head and studied the dark gray she-cat. Bluestar looked young and lithe and strong, very different from the soaked and battered cat she and her brother had dragged from the river.

Bluestar let her tail-tip rest on Mistyfoot's flank. “The life I give you is for doing what is right, however hard that might be.” The regret in her voice almost broke Mistyfoot's heart. She forced out a purr, in spite of the fire that was scorching through her blood.

“I know you only ever tried to do the right thing,” she rasped.

Bluestar leaned forward until her muzzle was touching the tip of Mistyfoot's ear. “Thank you,” she breathed.

A beautiful she-cat with delicate silver markings came forward. Mistyfoot tipped her head on one side. “Silverstream? Is that you?”

The she-cat purred. “Well met, Mistyfoot. I am so proud of what you have become. I give you a life for finding happiness, even in the most unlooked-for places. Whatever happens, never forget how to be joyful.” When she touched Mistyfoot's nose, a bright silver light flashed, making Mistyfoot blink. Her fur tingled and she felt the hair stand up along her spine.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

A dark gray tabby took Silverstream's place. Mistyfoot's heart ached as she gazed at him. “Oh, Rippletail. I'm so sorry you didn't return. You saved the lake, you know? The water came back!”
If not the fish,
she added silently, though she wasn't going to tell her former Clanmate that.

Rippletail dipped his head. “I only ever wanted to help my Clan,” he meowed. “My life was worth that. The life I give you is for curiosity, for the courage to find out what lies beyond the horizon. Never turn down a chance to learn something more.”

“I won't; I promise,” Mistyfoot whispered as the heat burned through her once more. She was beginning to feel dizzy and weak, and her vision was blurred.

At first she thought no cat had come up after Rippletail. There was an empty space in front of her. She had one more life to come, didn't she? Then there was a tiny squeak below her, and Mistyfoot looked down at a small black kit with piercing green eyes.

“Perchkit! My baby!”

The tiny cat bounced on his paws. “I knew I'd see you again,” he chirped. “They said I could give you a life, too. So mine is for bravery, even when you are walking into shadows. There will always be light, even in the darkest night.”

He stretched up to press his nose against Mistyfoot's chin. She inhaled his precious kit scent and drank in the energy that flowed from him.
I never forgot you, not for a single moment
.

“Mistystar! Mistystar!”

The cats on the shore raised their voices, sending her new name echoing up to the sky. Two more cats pushed through the throng and wound around Mistystar's legs. “Pikepaw! Primrosepaw!” She felt a rush of love for her kits who hadn't lived long enough to become the warriors they should have been.

“We will be waiting for you,” Pikepaw promised earnestly.

“We are so proud of you!” Primrosepaw added, pressing her cheek against Mistystar's shoulder.

Mistystar opened her mouth to tell her kits how much she missed them, but the light was turning gray and misty, and the shore vanished to be replaced by curved cliffs of stone. Mistystar was lying beside the Moonpool once more, her ears ringing and her fur still ruffled from the agony of the nine lives.

Mothwing padded up to her. “Are you all right?”

Mistystar blinked. She pictured the cats by the shore again, and knew there had been one missing. “You weren't there!”

Mothwing winced, then relaxed as if a weight had been lifted off her. “No.” She held Mistystar's gaze without flinching. “You will always visit StarClan alone. They don't exist for me in the way that they do for you.”

Mistystar stared at her friend in dismay. What was Mothwing saying? She was a medicine cat! How could this be true? She fought to speak, even though the ground was lurching under her feet.

“You . . . you don't believe in StarClan?”