“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?”