But he just blinked and pushed the herbs toward her. “Pinestar says he’s taking you to the Moonstone.”
Bluefur nodded. Was that curiosity flashing in his eyes?
“Eat these.” He turned and padded away. Had he mentioned something to Pinestar about the prophecy? Is that why the ThunderClan leader was taking her and not Snowfur? Did he know she was special?
“Hurry up!” Pinestar called across the clearing. “I want to be there by moonhigh.”
Bluefur quickly lapped up the pile of green leaves, gagging against the bitterness, and raced after her leader.
They followed the route to Fourtrees, retracing their steps to last night’s Gathering. Bluefur could smell lingering Clan scents as they padded past the Great Rock. It looked strange in daylight—dull and lifeless without the moon’s glow.
The grass became coarse beneath her paws as they climbed the slope to WindClan territory. “Remember,” Pinestar warned as the wind began to whip at their fur and the trees gave way to stunted bushes, “no hunting here.”
Of course not! Besides, Bluefur wasn’t hungry. Goosefeather’s herbs had squashed her appetite and made her paws itch to run, but she followed Pinestar’s steady pace as he led the way through the heather until the ground flattened out into a wide plateau. Bluefur scanned the horizon, looking for WindClan’s camp and the rock where she had sheltered during the battle. But only the sound of the wind streaming over the grass seemed familiar.
Suddenly the ground dipped down at their paws and the whole length of WindClan’s territory stretched out on either side. Pinestar stopped as the world unfurled in front of them. The moorland rolled down into a wide, deep valley, where Twoleg nests clustered in knots, small as grass seeds, and far in the distance rose a cliff of tall, jagged peaks.
“Are those Highstones?” Bluefur breathed.
Pinestar nodded.
The acid tang of the Thunderpath drifted from the valley. Bluefur could see a thin gray strip winding like a river below them. She had seen the Thunderpath that separated ThunderClan’s forest from ShadowClan territory, but had never crossed it. This Thunderpath looked busier. From there it seemed as though the monsters crawled along like insects, but Bluefur knew how huge they were and had heard of cats killed by them, traveling at such speed that even the fastest warrior could be caught.
“Come on.” Pinestar started down the slope.
Bluefur could smell the scent markers lining the WindClan border and see the lush grass coating the slopes below. Her paws ached for its softness.
“Halt!”
A WindClan yowl made them freeze. Bluefur stiffened as Pinestar whipped around to greet the WindClan patrol. Bracing herself, she turned to see Talltail and Reedfeather, the WindClan deputy, bounding through the heather, their hackles raised and teeth bared, three more warriors at their heels.
“Let your fur lie flat,” Pinestar hissed.
Bluefur tried to calm herself, taking deep breaths. We’re allowed to cross to Highstones, she told herself as the WindClan warriors pulled up a tail-length away.
Reedfeather narrowed his eyes. “Are you going to Highstones?” he challenged.
Pinestar nodded.
The WindClan deputy circled them, opening his mouth to taste their scent.
“We haven’t hunted,” Pinestar meowed evenly.
Reedfeather snorted. “With ThunderClan, it’s always best to make sure.”
Pinestar dug his claws into the peaty soil but said nothing.
“Go, then!” Reedfeather snapped. “And hurry. We don’t want you stinking up our land and scaring off prey.”
Pinestar turned. Wasn’t he going to respond? Bluefur struggled to keep her fur from bristling with anger, but Pinestar just padded heavily down the slope, head and tail down. There was no fear-scent on him. But the weariness in his step made Bluefur wonder what was driving him to share dreams with StarClan. Perhaps he was more worried about the kittypets than he would admit.
Bluefur could feel the stares of the WindClan patrol burning her pelt as she headed downhill. She relaxed only when they crossed the border, her paws sinking into the soft grass. From there, Pinestar kept to quiet pathways, winding far from Twoleg nests. Bluefur ached with tiredness by the time they neared the Thunderpath, and she was glad of the traveling herbs that kept her hunger at bay. The sun was dropping behind Highstones, throwing long shadows across the valley. Overhead the moon hung in a pale sky and stars began to blink.
The roar of the Thunderpath shook Bluefur’s belly. By the time they reached it, an endless stream of monsters was roaring past, eyes blazing. Dazzled, Bluefur blinked each time one roared past, and wrinkled her nose at its stinking breath. Pinestar crouched in the ditch at the edge, steadying her with a touch of his tail. Bluefur couldn’t stop trembling. The monsters pounded past from both directions, their foul hot wind tugging her whiskers and buffeting her fur. How would they get across?
“Stay behind me,” Pinestar ordered. He guided her forward till her claws touched the stinking black stone, hardly flinching as another monster roared past less than a tail-length away.
Terrified, Bluefur leaped backward.
“Get back here,” Pinestar growled. Breathing hard, Bluefur crept back to his side and forced herself to hold her ground as another monster whizzed past.
“Now!” Pinestar shot forward.
Heart pounding in her throat, Bluefur raced with him, her paws slipping on the smooth Thunderpath, her mind whirling in panic as she saw lights bearing down and heard the yowl of a monster hurtling toward them. Blind with terror, she ran with Pinestar, pressing against his pelt until the ground turned to grass beneath her paws.
“We’re safe now,” Pinestar panted.
Bluefur opened her eyes, relieved to find herself on the far edge of the Thunderpath.
Still trembling, she followed the ThunderClan leader as he headed to Highstones. The wind, chilly with night air, whipped through her fur. She shivered and glanced up. The sun was no more than a glow over the jagged peaks, and the sky was black overhead. Trembling, she searched out the brightest star. Could that be Moonflower watching her first journey to the Moonstone?
The land sloped and steepened, and the grass turned to stones beneath their paws. Pinestar was breathing heavily, and Bluefur’s belly was beginning to growl. There would be little to hunt on this bare, rocky soil dotted only with heather made ragged by the wind.
She was relieved when Pinestar paused. He lifted his tawny muzzle and stared up the slope. “Mothermouth.”
Holding her breath, Bluefur followed his gaze. Above them, as the slope grew steeper and rockier, a hole gaped in the hillside. Square and black, it yawned beneath a stone archway.
Pinestar glanced at the moon glowing high overhead. “It’s time.”
Chapter 18
“Welcome to Mothermouth.” Pinestar brushed his tail lightly over Bluefur’s shoulder before entering the tunnel. Almost at once, his red-brown coat vanished into the shadows.
With one last glance at the star-filled sky, Bluefur followed. Darkness swallowed her, pressing so thick that she held her breath and waited for the blackness to swamp her like water. Pinestar’s paw steps brushed the floor as it began to slope deep into the earth, and she padded after him with the blood roaring in her ears.
“Pinestar?” she gasped. Freezing air rushed into her lungs. The taste of water and stone and earth bathed her tongue. Where was he? His scent was lost in the jumble of strange odors. Crushed by the darkness, panic surged through her pelt. She darted forward, squawking as she crashed into him and bowled him over.