“It won’t be long now.” Wind Runner crouched beside her.
“I need a stick to bite on,” Moth Flight panted as she fought the urge to yowl with pain.
“I’ll get you one.” Slate ducked out of the den.
She returned a few moments later with a tough heather stem.
Moth Flight took it from her, relieved as she bit down hard with the next spasm. The wood crunched between her jaws and she moaned as her belly convulsed with such power that she thought she would die. Micah! She focused her thoughts on him, determined to stay strong. The image of his steady gaze shone in her thoughts. He seemed to be silently urging her on.
Groaning, she pushed with all her strength.
“Here’s the first kit!” Slate ducked behind her and lifted a small squirming bundle.
Moth Flight blinked at it, surprised, and spat out the stick.
“Is it okay?”
“It’s a he and he’s fine.” Slate laid the tom-kit beside Moth
Flight’s muzzle. His warm scent filled Moth Flight’s nose and she nuzzled him, her heart swelling as he squirmed against her cheek.
Her body convulsed again.
“Another one!” Slate sounded jubilant.
As a spasm seized her once more, the world seemed to blur around Moth Flight. She was aware only of pain and the muted voices of Wind Runner and Slate. In her mind, Micah’s green gaze glowed steady and strong. The heady scent of her new kits washed her muzzle and then, suddenly, the pain stopped.
“Four kits.” Wind Runner’s proud mew broke through the fog.
Moth Flight turned her head, blinking, and saw four squirming bundles beside her. Instinctively she pulled them close to her belly, reaching down to lap them dry. Two of the kits had yellow splotches on their soft white pelts. One was striped yellow all over, just like his father. “His fur!” she looked up at her mother. “It’s the same color as Micah’s!” The fourth was white, like Moth Flight. “I wonder what color their eyes will be.” The kits wriggled against her, their eyes still closed.
“You’ll have to wait a few days before you know.” Wind Runner’s mew was barely a whisper as she leaned down and lapped Moth Flight’s cheek. “Well done. I’m very proud of you.”
“Is she okay?” Pebble Heart’s anxious mew sounded at the den entrance. He nosed his way into the den, puffing to catch his breath. Heat radiated from his pelt.
Slate stared at him. “Did you run all the way?”
Pebble Heart was gazing at the kits. “I’m too late?”
“I’m afraid so,” Wind Runner told him apologetically. “But I’m glad you came. You can make sure Moth Flight and the kits are okay.”
“They look fine.” Pebble Heart’s eyes glowed.
Dust Muzzle stuck his head through the entrance. “He outran me!”
Moth Flight blinked fondly at the ShadowClan medicine cat.
“I did it!” Pride pulsed through her, stronger than any she’d felt before. “Aren’t they beautiful?” She hugged the kits closer, joy washing over her as she felt them warm against her belly.
Micah’s green gaze flashed once more in her mind. Thank you, Micah.
“They’re lovely,” Pebble Heart agreed. He leaned down and sniffed them. “They seem strong and healthy.”
Wind Runner tipped her head, her eyes glittering with worry.
“Will you stay tonight, just in case?”
“Of course,” Pebble Heart promised. “And I’ve spoken to Dappled Pelt and Cloud Spots. They’ve agreed to visit
WindClan regularly in case anyone is injured or sick while
Moth Flight’s recovering.”
Moth Flight lifted her head. “That’s kind, but there’s no need. I’ve shared everything I know with Reed Tail. He’ll be able to look after WindClan.”
Pebble Heart blinked. “You’ve been busy!”
“I just wanted to be prepared.” Moth Flight suddenly realized that, for the past moon, she’d been thinking about the future again. The grief that had dragged her into helpless despair after Micah’s death had finally eased as she planned a new life around her kits. And now they were here, each one perfect, and her heart felt as full of love as it had been when Micah was alive. She purred loudly, joy leaping in her chest as her kits purred with her. She suddenly remembered her conversation with Sun Shadow.
I will never feel like I’ve gained more than I’ve lost.
Maybe not. But you will come to value what you still have, and what you may have in the future.
She looked at Pebble Heart. “When you go home, tell Sun
Shadow he was right.”
Chapter 27
Moth Flight dreamed.
Warm wind tugged her fur as she raced upslope and the coarse grass grew soft beneath her paws as she neared the moortop. She stopped as she reached the crest. Meadows rolled below her, stretching toward forest, and a river sparkled in the distance as it disappeared among the trees.
Where am I? This wasn’t the moor.
The scent of prey washed her muzzle. A rabbit was grazing calmly on the grass a few tail-lengths ahead. Moth Flight imagined carrying it home to her kits. They were almost old enough for their first taste of fresh-kill. She swallowed back a purr as she imagined Bubbling Stream’s eyes lighting up at the sight of it. Spider Paw would be first to beg for a taste. Blue Whisker would hang back shyly, but Honey Pelt would make sure she had a piece before he’d take a bite.
Her heart ached with love for her kits as she thought of them. They were perfect. Even Spider Paw’s extra toe, which he’d been named for, was adorable.
She dropped into a hunting crouch and began to stalk silently through the grass. The rabbit didn’t even twitch as she neared. This is going to be an easy catch.
Yellow fur flashed at the edge of her vision. Moth Flight jerked her muzzle around, her breath stopping in her throat as she saw Micah padding toward her. The rabbit, still blissfully unaware, hopped lazily away. Moth Flight let it go, her gaze fixed on Micah.
“Can you see me?” She hardly dared speak. No one ever heard her in her dreams. The last time she’d dreamed of Micah, he’d been wandering in mist, unable to see her. But this time Micah’s eyes were fixed on her, sparkling green in the bright sunshine and filled with love.
As he neared her, he quickened his pace until his scent bathed her. She closed her eyes, her heart pounding. Was she really going to speak with him? His whiskers grazed her cheek as he reached her.
“I have missed you so much.” His words were soft in her ear.
She purred, rubbing her cheek fiercely against his. “I thought I’d die without you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” He drew away and looked at her, his eyes shining. “I’ve seen the kits. I’ve watched you with them.
You are a wonderful mother.”
Joy surged beneath her pelt. “Aren’t they gorgeous? They remind me so much of you. Honey Pelt even washes his paws the same way you did.”
“Keep an eye on Blue Whisker,” he fretted. “She’s so shy.
Don’t let the others push her around.”
“They won’t,” Moth Flight promised. “They’re protective of her. Especially Spider Paw. He won’t let Slate’s kits near her because she’s scared of them.”
Micah frowned. “They haven’t hurt her, have they?”
Moth Flight purred. “No, of course not. But she can’t understand why such big cats act like kits. I keep telling her they’re still kits. I don’t think she believes she’ll be that big too in a few moons.”
Micah’s green gaze darkened. “I wish I were there.” Grief edged his mew.
It caught hold of Moth Flight, twisting her heart. “So do I.”