Mistystar's Omen (7 page)

Chapter 9

Mistystar bunched her hindquarters beneath her,
ready to spring down, but Robinwing held her back.

“Wait! Mallownose has him!”

The brown warrior had dug his claws into the top of the fence and lowered himself down until he could sink his teeth into Reedwhisker's scruff. He hauled the barely moving cat out of the dogs' reach and carried him along the wood, with Hollowpaw and Rushpaw stumbling in front of him. The dogs sprang and snapped at them from below, but Mallownose kept going, his eyes bulging from the effort of holding his Clanmate.

Mistystar pushed the apprentices out of the way as they stood trembling on the wall, and stretched out to take her son from Mallownose. The black tom was moaning softly, and a huge gash stretched across his flank. The wound was so deep that Mistystar could see the white gleam of bone at the top of his hind leg.

“Oh, StarClan,” she whispered.

“We're so sorry,” Hollowpaw whimpered. “We were just looking for food.”

“Kittypet food,” Rushpaw added. He hung his head. “We found some here before, and it didn't taste too bad. We thought if we got enough to eat here, we wouldn't have to take anything from the fresh-kill pile.”

Mistystar stared at the apprentices, resisting the urge to claw their ears off until they screamed as loudly as Reedwhisker had.
They never meant for any cat to get hurt. They thought they were helping.

Robinwing stepped alongside Mistystar. “Let's get Reedwhisker back to the camp,” he meowed. He and Mallownose stood at the foot of the wall while Graymist and Mistystar lowered Reedwhisker onto their shoulders. The warriors stumbled a little under the deputy's weight, then braced themselves and began the slow trek back through the grass. Mistystar walked at Reedwhisker's head, trying to stop it from bouncing against Mallownose's elbow. Graymist followed, with the apprentices on each side of her. The young cats were too dazed and miserable to speak.

They kept to the top of the bank, not wanting to risk Reedwhisker falling into the still-swollen stream. Once they reached the bushes inside RiverClan territory, Graymist and Mistystar went ahead to hold branches out of the way. Reedwhisker's body was still whipped by stray twigs, though, and Mistystar whimpered every time he was lashed by another loose branch.

As they entered the camp, Graymist yowled, “Mothwing! Quick!”

Mothwing's golden head poked out from the elders' den. “What is it?” Scraps of moss clung to her fur, and Mistystar guessed she had been building herself a nest.

“Reedwhisker is hurt!” Mallownose told her, but Mothwing was already pushing her way out of the branches and running across the clearing. The warriors let Reedwhisker slip gently to the ground.

Mothwing stared at the gaping wound. “We need cobweb, comfrey, marigold, watermint,” she began. “Robinwing, fetch some soaked moss. Do I smell
dog
?”

“Yes,” mewed Mallownose. “He was bitten by at least one, if not two.”

“In that case, we need to get this wound as clean as possible.” Mothwing ran her paw lightly along Reedwhisker's spine. “I don't think anything's broken, but let's keep him still anyway.”

Mistystar stepped forward. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hardly speak. But she reached out with one paw and moved Mothwing away from Reedwhisker. “Let Willowshine do this,” she mewed.

Her Clanmates stared at her. “Mistystar, what are you doing?” Graymist exclaimed. “Mothwing is our medicine cat!”

“Not anymore,” Mistystar replied softly.

Mothwing blinked. “Are you sure you mean this? Reedwhisker is very, very sick.”

“Willowshine knows what to do,” Mistystar whispered. “StarClan will help her.”

Mothwing flinched, then turned away. “I'll get her,” she mewed.

“I don't understand!” growled Robinwing. “What's going on?”

“I know what I'm doing,” Mistystar insisted.

Willowshine raced up. “Mothwing said Reedwhisker was hurt!” She stopped and stared down at the deputy, whose wound was staining the earth beneath him as scarlet as a sunset. “Great StarClan!”

Mistystar lifted her head high. “I know you can heal him, Willowshine. Please, help him.”

Willowshine opened her mouth to protest, then shut it with a snap and began examining the injury. Mistystar gazed down at her son.
I won't lose you too,
she vowed.
I know you need StarClan's help to survive this, and Mothwing can't give you that. I'm doing the right thing; I must be.

A crowd of cats gathered around Reedwhisker. Mothwing brought herbs to Willowshine, then left. Mistystar heard murmurs ripple around the Clan, ranging from puzzled to angry.

“Where's Mothwing going?”

“How can she turn her back on an injured Clanmate? Surely that's breaking the medicine code!”

“Mistystar said she wasn't the medicine cat anymore.”

“What? In the name of StarClan, why not?”

Because to Mothwing, StarClan doesn't exist!
Mistystar thought desperately. She watched as Willowshine carefully rinsed Reedwhisker's wound, then packed it with cobwebs and freshly pulped herbs. Reedwhisker's eyes remained closed, and his breathing was so shallow his flank barely moved. Mistystar couldn't bear to see him suffer any longer. She padded out of the camp and headed into the densest part of the territory. She crawled into a patch of brambles and curled up, wrapping her tail over her nose.

StarClan, we need you now! Guide Willowshine's paws; help her to heal Reedwhisker's injuries and make him strong again. Please don't take my last kit from me!

The air stirred beside her, and a faint scent drifted through the thorns. Mistystar lifted her head. “Stonefur?” She could just make out a shape against the brambles, gray-furred and broad-shouldered. “Stonefur! Have you come for Reedwhisker? Please don't take him to StarClan yet!”

Her brother leaned toward her until she felt his breath on her cheek. “Reedwhisker's life hangs by the thinnest fish scale,” he whispered. “He needs all the help he can get.”

“Then speak to Willowshine!” Mistystar begged. “Tell her what she should do!”

Stonefur shook his head, almost in sorrow. “The lake is not the only source of prey,” he mewed, echoing what he had said before. “RiverClan has another medicine cat.”

“But Mothwing doesn't believe in you! How can she be a true medicine cat? She has lied to the whole Clan, and she will be forever blind to what you tell her.”

“Did StarClan tell you how to give birth to your kits?” Stonefur queried.

Mistystar gazed at her brother in astonishment. “No, of course not.”

“So you trusted your instincts, and acted alone?”

“Well, I had Mudfur to help me, but yes, I guess my instincts told me what to do,” Mistystar admitted. She had no idea where this was leading. Beside her, Stonefur was starting to fade. Mistystar reached out with her front paw, trying to hold the vision where it was.

“Perhaps you should trust Mothwing to act alone,” came the last whisper.

Dazed, Mistystar shoved her way out of the brambles. On the last tendril, a pale green pod balanced, so delicate that Mistystar could almost see through it. Something made her pause, and as she watched, the pod began to split open. A damp, folded brown creature emerged, not much thicker than a twig. The sides of the pod fell away, leaving the creature clinging to the bramble. Mistystar watched, entranced, as the tiny shape stretched out first one wing, then the other. They gleamed in the pale light, thinner than gossamer and lifted by the softest breeze. As the wings dried, bolder colors appeared: rich fox-colored brown, bright circles of blue edged in white, and specks of black that looked like the opposite of stars. It was a moth!

Does it know what it is?
Mistystar wondered.
Fly, little one! That's what your wings are for!

The moth clung to the tendril, its wings trembling. Then, with a twitch of its hair's-breadth legs, it flexed its wings and let the breeze lift it into the air. It hung for a moment above the bramble; then its wings folded and unfolded in a single heartbeat and the moth soared up through the brambles, flitting past the thorns and out into the cold, crisp sky.

Mistystar realized she had been holding her breath. Did the moth have its own StarClan? Or had it really emerged all on its own, known how to spread its wings and take flight purely by instinct? Stonefur's words came back to her, and Mistystar's fur started to tingle.
You sent this moth, didn't you, Stonefur? You meant this to be an omen—an omen for me that I should trust Mothwing's instincts, and not judge her for what she does not do.

Chapter 10

Mistystar raced back to the camp
and burst through the entrance. The clearing was empty and quiet. There was no sign of Reedwhisker or Willowshine or the cats who had clustered around them. Surely Reedwhisker hadn't died! Was she too late? She spotted Graymist emerging from the dirtplace and called over to her.

“Where is he? Where is Willowshine?”

Graymist looked at her, and Mistystar flinched from the judgment in her gaze. “They are in the medicine cats' den,” she meowed.

Mistystar couldn't bear to ask how Reedwhisker was. She fled to the rocks and peered in. Willowshine was bent over the deputy's still, black shape. “Is . . . is he alive?”

“Just,” mewed Willowshine without looking up. “I'm doing everything I can.”

Mistystar stepped forward. “Where is Mothwing?”

Anger prickled from Willowshine's fur. “In the elders' den. Where you sent her.”

Mistystar swallowed. “I made a mistake,” she whispered. Then she turned and ran out of the den. She went over to the bush that sheltered the elders in their twilight moons and ducked her head into the den. “Mothwing?”

There was a faint stirring in the shadows. “Yes?”

“Mothwing, Reedwhisker needs you.” Mistystar paused. “
I
need you. Please don't let me lose my son.”

Mothwing padded across the den and pushed her way out as Mistystar stepped back. Her blue eyes were wary and watchful.

“I was wrong,” Mistystar confessed. “You are still the RiverClan medicine cat. It is not up to me to take that away from you.” She pictured the moth, proud and strong and utterly confident that it could fly without any help. “Please forgive me, Mothwing.”

Mothwing stretched until her muzzle rested on top of Mistystar's head. “I will do everything I can for Reedwhisker,” she promised. Then she brushed lightly past Mistystar and vanished into her old den.

Mistystar forced herself not to follow. Reedwhisker was in the best place to recover; she would only get in the way. Suddenly she knew where she had to go. She turned and trotted toward the entrance. She met Beetlewhisker just outside. “Is Reedwhisker okay?” the warrior asked.

“Mothwing and Willowshine are with him,” Mistystar replied. When she saw his look of surprise, she added, “RiverClan is blessed by StarClan to have two medicine cats. You can tell the rest of the Clan that, if you wish.”

Beetlewhisker held her gaze for a moment, then nodded. “As you say, we are very lucky,” he meowed.

Mistystar began to move off. Beetlewhisker called after her, “Do you want some company?”

Mistystar shook her head. “No, thank you. I'll be back later; I promise.”

She jumped over the stream and ran across the marsh, bouncing from tussock to tussock to keep her paws out of the mud. As she trotted along the shore, she looked across the ruffled water to the RiverClan camp, hidden among its sheltering bushes. “StarClan, help Mothwing and Willowshine,” she prayed.

At the stream that divided WindClan from ThunderClan, she started to climb. She didn't meet any patrols, though she saw a group of WindClan cats racing over the moor in the distance. She still couldn't figure out how they managed to move so fast. Up and up she climbed, until her paws ached. At last the circle of bushes appeared above her, and she found herself at the top of the paw-dented path that led down to the Moonpool.

She settled down with her nose just touching the ice-cold water, and closed her eyes. She wanted to dream herself into StarClan, find Stonefur, and let him know that she had seen his sign. A soft breeze ruffled her fur and she opened her eyes expectantly. To her disappointment she was still beside the Moonpool. Bare walls of stone encircled her, and the gray sky above was empty of stars. Mistystar felt a faint tremor of alarm. Was it a bad omen if StarClan wouldn't let her in?

Then she noticed a cat walking down the path toward her. For a moment she didn't recognize the sturdy shape and long brown pelt; then she realized it was Mudfur, the medicine cat who had stayed behind in the forest because his bones were too old for the Great Journey. Mistystar scrambled to her feet.

Mudfur padded closer until he was facing her, barely a fox-length away. He dipped his head in greeting, then gestured with his tail. “Let's sit,” he suggested. Still stunned by his appearance, Mistystar folded her haunches underneath her. Mudfur took a long breath. “I realized that Mothwing didn't believe in StarClan quite quickly,” he began, staring out over the pool. “But I never saw any reason to challenge her. I could tell she was going to be a good medicine cat. She was smart and calm, and kinder than I was to cats in pain! Being a medicine cat is first and foremost about serving your Clan, and I knew that Mothwing would do that with every beat of her heart.”

“But what about the rest of her responsibilities?” Mistystar argued. “Seeing signs from StarClan, performing ceremonies?”

“StarClan can speak to any cat they want,” Mudfur replied. “We all have dreams, not just medicine cats. As for ceremonies, if Mothwing said the right words, how would any cat know what she thought in her own mind?”

“But there was a sign! You chose her because you found the wing of a moth!”

Mudfur looked down at his paws. “Ah, yes, so I did. At least, that's what made my mind up. Maybe it was a real sign; maybe it wasn't. If it was, then it meant StarClan saw her skills before any of us did. And if it wasn't, well, I figured they'd find a way to tell me something different before too long.”

“But they never did, did they?” Mistystar whispered. “StarClan allowed Mothwing to become our medicine cat even though they knew she would never listen to them.”

“I've had a long time to think about this,” Mudfur meowed. “Faith is not just about believing in warrior ancestors. It means being loyal to whatever is most important to you. For Mothwing, this is her Clan and her Clanmates. What else does a medicine cat need?”

Mistystar looked at the Moonpool, gray and lightless beneath the sky. What else, indeed? Mothwing had not stopped caring for her Clan since the moment she became Mudfur's apprentice. Like the moth, she had taught herself to fly alone.

“Mistystar?”

Mistystar jerked around. Mudfur had vanished, and Mothwing was standing behind her. Why was she here, and not with Reedwhisker? The breath suddenly caught in Mistystar's throat. “Reedwhisker. . . ?” she rasped.

“Is sleeping peacefully,” Mothwing finished for her. “There are no signs of infection, and as long as he stays still for a while, the wound will heal.”

Mistystar sagged with relief. “Oh, thank StarClan,” she breathed. Then she straightened up. “And thank
you
, Mothwing. For . . . for everything. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn't,” Mothwing replied. “But I often come here when I need some time to think. All the wisdom of the medicine cats that have come before me must have rubbed off on these stones somehow!”

“And yet you don't believe in anything that they do,” Mistystar murmured.

Mothwing looked sharply at her. “I believe in the importance of learning from what has been discovered before. And in how precious health is, and how hard I must work to preserve it in all my Clanmates. The fact that the world of signs, omens, and dreams that have hidden meanings is closed to me doesn't feel like something is missing, Mistystar. I respect what you believe. You must respect what matters to me.”

Mistystar nodded. “Who would have thought that a moth would have so much to teach me?” she whispered, half under her breath.

“What did you say?”

Mistystar let her tail rest on her friend's shoulder. “Just something for me to remember,” she purred. “Now, shall we let our old bones rest for a while before we go back to our Clan?”