Brightheart stayed with Whitepaw all night, which made the den a little crowded, but Leafpool was glad of the help when the apprentice kept waking in pain from her jaw and the dull ache in her tail. She still didn’t dare give Whitepaw any poppy seeds, so Brightheart curled herself around her daughter and licked the top of her head, urging her back to sleep. By sunrise both cats were dozing, so Leafpool tiptoed out of the den to fetch them something from the fresh-kill pile in case they woke up hungry.
Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw were just returning with the dawn patrol, purring in amusement at something Rainwhisker had said. It looked like their quarrel had been long forgotten. Leafpool joined her sister as Brambleclaw bounded up the Highledge to report to Firestar.
“Will you come to the Moonpool with me?” Leafpool asked. “I need to speak with StarClan and I don’t want to go alone.” Leafpool risked a glance at her cumbersome belly. “Obviously.”
Squirrelflight nodded. “All right, I’ll come. Do you want to go now?”
“If we can. Brightheart can take care of Whitepaw for today.”
“Let me tell Firestar and Brambleclaw first.” Squirrelflight trotted up the rocks and vanished into the leader’s den. Leafpool felt the kits sagging inside her and thought with dread of the long trek up to the Moonpool.
Squirrelflight reappeared. “That’s all fine. Come on, then.” She looked up at the sky. It was cloudy, but as pale as a dove’s wing. “At least we shouldn’t get wet.”
She was right, it didn’t rain, but the journey was harder than Leafpool had ever found it before. Every stone seemed to roll away from her paws, every bramble reached out to snag her fur, and the weight of her belly made her gasp for breath. Squirrelflight slowed her pace to walk beside her, boosting her up the rocks and urging her on when all Leafpool wanted to do was lie down and rest.
At last they reached the path that led down to the Moonpool. Squirrelflight stared into the hollow in astonishment. Dusk was falling, and pricks of starlight were starting to appear on the still, silver water. “It’s beautiful!” she whispered.
Unlike in the old forest, apprentices no longer visited the medicine cats’ special place as part of their training. This was Squirrelflight’s first sight of the Moonpool, and Leafpool felt a flush of delight at her sister’s reaction. “Isn’t it?” she agreed. “Can you feel the marks in the path?”
Squirrelflight rubbed her paws over the dimpled stone and nodded.
“Those are the paw prints of all the cats who have come here before us,” Leafpool explained. “We are not the first cats to know of this special place.”
“Wow,” Squirrelflight breathed. “I feel so honored to be here.”
“I know what you mean,” meowed Leafpool. “Follow me. I need to lie at the water’s edge.” She padded down the spiral path with her sister close behind her. The stars sparkled more brightly in the pool as they approached. Leafpool sank with a grunt of relief onto the cold stone.
“What happens now?” Squirrelflight asked, sitting down and looking around.
“I will share tongues with StarClan in my sleep. You should sleep too, if you can. It’s a long walk home.”
Squirrelflight settled down, grumbling about the hardness of the ground. Gradually her breathing slowed. Leafpool nudged a little closer to soak up the warmth of her sister’s fur, then closed her eyes. She opened them to find Yellowfang standing over her. The old cat’s gray pelt was as ruffled as ever, and her breath rasped so loudly that it echoed off the walls of the hollow.
“Back again?” Yellowfang grunted.
Leafpool struggled to her paws. “Please help me, Yellowfang. Everything seems so dark. I can’t find a way out of this anywhere.”
The old cat sat down with a sigh. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Leafpool. If only you had thought about the consequences of what you were doing.”
“Well, I didn’t!” Leafpool flashed back. “I can say I’m sorry until the lake runs dry, but that won’t change a thing. Please help me decide what to do! There’s no one else I can ask!”
To her surprise, Yellowfang didn’t reply. Instead she leaned over and prodded Squirrelflight with one paw. Squirrelflight lifted her head blearily.
“Is it time to leave? I only just closed my eyes.” Her gaze fell on Yellowfang. “Oh! You’re from StarClan, aren’t you?”
Yellowfang twitched her ears, which glowed with starlight. “It would seem so. Do you know who I am?”
Squirrelflight put her head on one side. “I’d guess you are Yellowfang. I’ve heard many stories about you.” She studied the old cat’s matted, dusty pelt and her nose twitched. “I’d know you anywhere.”
“I am flattered,” Yellowfang commented dryly.
Squirrelflight stood up and looked from Yellowfang to Leafpool and back again. “Why am I here? Is there a way I can help Leafpool raise her kits?”
“Yes,” mewed Yellowfang. “You can take them and raise them as your own.”
Squirrelflight looked horrified. “What? How could I do that? I would have to lie to Firestar, to all my Clanmates, to Brambleclaw!”
The old medicine cat blinked. “If a lie is what it takes to save these kits, so be it.”
Squirrelflight paced in a tight circle. “I’m sorry. I just can’t see how I could do this. It’s too much.”
“I can’t make you do anything that you don’t want to,” Yellowfang rasped. “I understand why you don’t want such a huge responsibility—not that I could appreciate it, of course, being a medicine cat.”
Leafpool stiffened. So Yellowfang wasn’t going to tell Squirrelflight about her own terrible history?
“But I have watched you, Squirrelflight,” Yellowfang continued, her voice barely louder than the wind against the stone. “I know you would make an excellent mother.” Her cloudy yellow gaze drifted to the Moonpool, which was being whipped into little waves by the breeze. Her ears pricked, as if she had seen something in the water. She blinked, then turned back to Squirrelflight. “I am so sorry,” she whispered.
Squirrelflight stared at her, huge-eyed. “Sorry about what?”
The old she-cat sighed. “I wish that the stars had not sent this message to me to pass on. But it is my duty. Squirrelflight, you will never have kits of your own.”
Leafpool gulped. What?
Her sister rocked backward on her haunches. “Are you sure? How can you possibly know that?”
“Are you questioning StarClan?” Yellowfang hissed. Then she let her fur lie flat again. “Leafpool is offering you your only chance to be a mother. And Brambleclaw will be a great father. One day he will be the leader of ThunderClan! He needs kits to follow in his paw steps, don’t you think?”
Leafpool held her breath. Squirrelflight stood up and walked to the edge of the Moonpool, where she gazed at the starlight rippling on the surface. Yellowfang followed her. “I know how difficult this is to hear. Come and rest. You will see things more clearly when you wake up.” She guided Squirrelflight back to the warm patch of stone where she had been lying before. Squirrelflight curled up, as silent and obedient as a kit, and let Yellowfang soothe her to sleep with long, smooth licks across her head.
Leafpool waited until her sister was fast asleep, then stood up. “StarClan has never seen the future in the Moonpool before,” she meowed quietly. “Were you telling the truth?”
Yellowfang kept her gaze fixed on Squirrelflight’s head. “The truth is that Squirrelflight will make a far better mother for these kits than you will, Leafpool. That is the only thing which matters now.”
Leafpool tried to speak but a feather-soft darkness tugged at her, pulling her back into sleep. She lay down and let her eyes close as Yellowfang’s glowing shape faded away. When Leafpool woke, Squirrelflight was standing beside the Moonpool. Without looking around, she mewed, “Do you remember our dream?”