“Has Featherwhisker looked at your wound?” Bluepaw asked. She was surprised by how steady her voice was.
“It can wait till we get back to camp.”
They fell into silence once more as they entered the shelter of the forest and followed the trail back to camp.
By the time Bluepaw entered the clearing, Windflight and Fuzzypelt were circling their battered and injured Clanmates, pelts bristling with alarm. Speckletail came running from the nursery and greeted Smallear with a worried mew, sniffing his pelt to check his injuries.
Goosefeather padded from the medicine den, yawning. “How’d it go?” His eyes widened in surprise as Pinestar laid Moonflower on the ground in front of him and stepped back.
“I don’t know if she managed to destroy their supplies before she died,” he growled.
Goosefeather opened his mouth but no words came out.
“You killed her!” Swiftbreeze’s screech took Bluepaw by surprise, and she flinched as the she-cat lunged at Goosefeather and knocked him to the ground, hissing in his face. “This time one of your ridiculous omens has killed one of your Clanmates!”
“Stop!” Pinestar called.
But Swiftbreeze had already raised her paw, claws unsheathed.
Adderfang and Tawnyspots streaked from the clearing and dragged Swiftbreeze off the shocked medicine cat. They held her back as Goosefeather scrambled to his paws and shook out his ruffled pelt.
Larksong, Mumblefoot, and Weedwhisker had ventured from the tangled branches of the fallen tree.
“You lost?” Larksong sounded as though she could hardly believe her eyes.
Pinestar nodded. “We had to retreat…and Moonflower is dead.”
A wail of grief came from outside the nursery. Poppydawn raced to Moonflower’s body and crouched over her, burying her nose in her pelt.
“What’s wrong?” Thistlekit, Sweetkit, and Rosekit came scampering after her, slithering to a halt when they saw their mother grieving over Moonflower’s lifeless body.
Sweetkit turned her big, round eyes on Bluepaw. “Is she really…dead?” she breathed.
Bluepaw stared back, words stuck in her throat. She glanced at Snowpaw, but her sister was staring at the ground.
Stonepelt stepped forward and glared at Goosefeather. “We should never have been sent into battle!”
“I was only interpreting the signs from StarClan,” Goosefeather defended himself calmly.
“Perhaps you should learn to interpret weather rather than prey.” Robinwing pushed ahead of Pinestar to join Stonepelt. “Would StarClan have blessed a battle with a storm like that?”
Sunfall narrowed his eyes, his gaze flicking to Adderfang and Stormtail. “Perhaps Goosefeather was more eager to satisfy his Clanmates’ wishes than those of StarClan.”
Pinestar shouldered his way to the front. “Enough!” he growled. “Goosefeather is not to blame for our defeat. All warriors risk their lives for the sake of the Clan. It’s part of the warrior code. Our wounded need attention. Arguing won’t help them!”
Featherwhisker hurried forward. “I’ll get more supplies.” He disappeared down the fern tunnel, followed quickly by Goosefeather.
“You can hide from your Clanmates,” Swiftbreeze muttered under her breath. “It’ll be StarClan that judges you.”
Bluepaw felt her paws trembling. She couldn’t shake the lingering suspicion that Goosefeather had caused her mother’s death. As the wounded cats limped to the medicine clearing, Speckletail and Poppydawn collected mint from a patch beside the nursery and plucked rosemary from beside the warriors’ den. Bluepaw watched, cold to the bone, as the two queens began to rub her mother’s body with the herbs. Larksong and Weedwhisker joined them, tucking Moonflower’s paws under her and lapping her pelt.
“Will you sit vigil?” Speckletail’s soft mew roused Bluepaw from her grief-stricken trance.
The queens and elders had finished their task, and Moonflower’s body lay in the center of the clearing, as sleek and peaceful as if she were only sleeping. The rain clouds were clearing now, and the sun rested on the tops of the trees, turning them pink. Moonflower’s pelt shone silver. With a pang of grief so strong she had to fight for breath, Bluepaw remembered the first time she’d opened her eyes and been startled by her mother’s beauty. How she wished she were back in the nest now, listening to Moonflower’s steady breathing, waiting for her to wake up.
“Will you sit vigil?” Speckletail repeated.
Rage exploded in Bluepaw’s belly. “Why did you have to make her look like she’s asleep? She’s dead!” She stared at Snowpaw, but Snowpaw’s eyes were dull with grief.
Sunfall padded from the shadow beneath Highrock and laid his tail on Bluepaw’s shoulders. “No one’s trying to pretend Moonflower’s still alive. She walks with our ancestors now, in StarClan. But she’s still watching you, as closely as she ever did. She’ll never leave you, Bluepaw.”
Bluepaw wrenched herself away from him. “She has left me. I don’t want her to be in StarClan. I want her to be here, where I can see her and talk to her.”
Sunfall gazed steadily at her. “You’ll see her in your dreams, I promise.”
Stifling the wail that rose in her throat, Bluepaw crouched beside Moonflower’s body. Snowpaw joined her, nestling so close their pelts touched. Together they pressed their noses into their mother’s fur. The mint and rosemary had stolen her familiar scent, and the ache in Bluepaw’s heart grew sharper. The shadows lengthened around them as one by one her Clanmates joined the vigil. Bluepaw sensed the warmth of their bodies, even more noticeable next to the coldness of Moonflower’s. She pressed her muzzle harder against her mother’s flank, wishing she could find a little remaining warmth in her fur. But Moonflower was as cold as the earth.
You said you would always be here with me. Why did you have to die?
Chapter 10
Mouse dung!
Bluepaw released her grip on the bark and slid backward down the trunk of the birch tree. The squirrel had been too quick for her and was already disappearing into the topmost branches, sending flurries of snow showering onto the hunting patrol.
Sunfall ducked. “Don’t worry,” he called up. “Squirrels are always going to be faster in thick snow because it supports their weight.”
Well, obviously! Bluepaw wished Stonepelt were still her mentor. He had never treated her like a mouse-brain. But he had retired to the elders’ den when his injury from the battle with WindClan didn’t heal properly, and now she was stuck with Sunfall. Poppydawn and Swiftbreeze kept telling her that it was an honor to be mentored by the Clan deputy, but Bluepaw wasn’t convinced he was such a great mentor.
If I’d stalked that squirrel better I would have caught it.
It was the only sniff of prey they’d had all morning, and she’d let it get away. As she dropped backward into the thickly piled snow around the tree’s roots, Snowpaw’s mew rang through the muffled forest.
“I know how we can get the prey out of their burrows!”
“By calling to them?” Bluepaw mewed sarcastically. Hadn’t her sister learned to keep her voice low yet?
“How?” Sparrowpelt beckoned his apprentice closer, and Snowpaw lolloped like a hare through the snow to his side, her belly leaving a trail in the soft white powder.
Lionpaw leaped up onto the root beside Bluepaw. He’d been an apprentice for only half a moon, but he was already as big as her and had the typical cockiness of a fresh ’paw. He’d caught two mice, never seen battle, and acted like being an apprentice was the best thing in the world.