Half Moon went on. “We have given you the gift we will give all leaders: the gift of nine lives. From now on, you shall be known as Windstar.”
Joy flooded like starlight beneath Moth Flight’s pelt. She remembered her vision of the gray she-cat in the ditch.
Suddenly it made sense. Wind Runner could die eight times and still come back to life.
Around her, StarClan began to chant, their voices echoing around the shimmering walls of the cave. “Windstar! Windstar!
Windstar!”
Chapter 35
“Moth Flight!” Bubbling Stream paced in front of her mother, her stumpy tail fluffed with excitement. “White Tail says I can go hunting with him and Storm Pelt.”
Moth Flight was lying in the morning sunshine outside her den. She gazed sympathetically at her kit. “You’re too little.”
“He says he won’t let any buzzards get me,” Bubbling Stream argued.
“Storm Pelt’s taking White Tail out to teach him hunting techniques,” Moth Flight argued. “How can he learn anything if he’s protecting you from buzzards?”
Bubbling Stream scowled and stomped away.
Blue Whisker hurried to meet her littermate. “I told you she’d say no.”
Moth Flight flicked her gaze past her kits to the sandy clearing below the tall rock. Windstar stood at the head, Gorse
Fur beside her, while the Clan milled around her. She was assigning patrols for the day. The bright morning sunshine gleamed on her pelt. As she paced, the WindClan leader showed no sign of a limp. At her neck, there wasn’t even a scar where the gash had been.
Jagged Peak nosed his way through his Clanmates and stopped in front of her. “Can I hunt the moortop burrows?”
Windstar shook her head. “We’ve hunted there too much this greenleaf. There’ll be no rabbits left. Take Holly to the ShadowClan border and see what’s running there.” She nodded toward Dust Muzzle. “I want you to train Silver Stripe. She’s fast, but her stalking needs work.”
Silver Stripe pricked her ears. “Can we hunt lapwings?” she asked Storm Pelt excitedly.
Storm Pelt padded toward the young she-cat. “Lapwings are hard to catch,” he told her. “Let’s start with mice.”
Black Ear pushed past his sister. “Can you train me as well?”
Windstar cut in. “Spotted Fur can train you.”
Black Ear lifted his tail happily as Windstar turned to Spotted Fur.
“Show him the borders and the best places to scent mark,” she ordered.
Spotted Fur puffed out his chest proudly as Windstar turned to Swift Minnow.
“You can go to the ShadowClan border with Fern Leaf, Jagged Peak, and Holly. Reed Tail”—she nodded to the tom—“take Dew Nose and Eagle Feather along the moorside. I saw kestrels hunting there yesterday. The prey must be running well.”
Moth Flight noticed Reed Tail’s gaze flit over Windstar anxiously. “Will you be hunting again today?”
“Of course.” Windstar sounded surprised. She’d hunted every day since her return.
Reed Tail was staring at her healed hind leg. “Are you sure you’re strong enough?”
Windstar rolled her eyes. “How many times must I explain?
I’m fine now. You’ve even checked my leg. Does it look broken?”
Reed Tail’s ear twitched. “It’s just hard to believe StarClan has such power.”
Moth Flight understood his bewilderment. She could hardly believe what she’d seen. And yet it was true.
When they had returned from the Moonstone a few days ago, reaching camp in the early dawn light, Gorse Fur had been waiting at the entrance, his eyes widening with shock as Windstar padded toward him. He’d run to meet her, circling her in disbelief.
“StarClan healed you!” he gasped.
Windstar met his gaze steadily. “They did more than that.
They gave me this life back, and eight more lives to lead
WindClan through endless moons.”
Gorse Fur halted, his pelt rippling along his spine. He glanced toward Moth Flight. “Nine lives? How can that be?”
“I’m not sure.” Moth Flight shifted her paws. She was still awed by StarClan’s power. “But it’s true. I’ve seen it before in my dreams. It’s a gift they will give to all leaders.”
In the days that followed, Moth Flight had traveled to each camp, sharing her news with Acorn Fur and Clear Sky, Cloud
Spots and Thunder, Pebble Heart and Tall Shadow, Dappled Pelt and River Ripple. River Ripple had seemed the least surprised; Clear Sky the most excited. Moth Flight was sure he’d have traveled with Acorn Fur by now to receive his nine lives. She hoped all the Clan leaders had visited the Moonstone by now.
She’d find out tonight at the half-moon gathering.
Windstar’s mew jerked her from her thoughts. “Honey Pelt, get down!”
Moth Flight looked up to see the tom-kit scrambling onto the ledge halfway up the tall rock.
Swift Minnow and Reed Tail had leaped from the hollow.
Reed Tail reached up with his forepaws, stretching until he was high enough to pluck Honey Pelt from the ledge by his scruff.
He placed him on the ground.
Honey Pelt fluffed out his fur grumpily. “I’m not allowed to have any fun!”
Windstar stared at him sternly. “Go and play with your littermates.” She nodded toward where Bubbling Stream and Blue Whisker were chasing Spider Paw’s tail as he darted among the tussocks, whisking it over the grass.
Frowning, Honey Pelt padded toward them. His Clanmates streamed past as they raced for the entrance, heading for the moor. Above the camp, the sky stretched, clear and blue.
Heather scent mingled with prey scent, rolling into camp on a light breeze.
Spider Paw halted and stared wistfully after Windstar and Gorse Fur as they followed the others through the gap in the heather wall.
Bubbling Stream bounced around him. “Let’s play hunting!”
She ducked low, pressing her belly against the grass. Blue
Whisker crouched beside him. Honey Pelt scrambled onto a tussock and reached his forepaws into the air. “I’m hunting buzzards!”
“Has a cat ever caught a buzzard?” Blue Whisker blinked at Moth Flight.
Moth Flight padded toward her. “I don’t think so. But when Gray Wing used to tell stories of the mountains, he said they caught eagles.”
“Who’s Gray Wing?” Blue Whisker asked.
Before she could answer, Rocky padded from his den. The old tom blinked at her sleepily. “Do you want me to watch the kits while you gather herbs?”
Moth Flight hesitated. Her stores had been low since
Windstar’s sickness. She ought to restock them. But, in the days since she’d returned from the Moonstone, she’d felt a desperate need to be near her kits.
Rocky stared at her. “Yesterday, you said you need to fetch more catmint,” he reminded her. “You said your store was so low—”
Honey Pelt interrupted. “Can I have a badger ride?” He leaped from the tussock and landed on Moth Flight’s shoulders.
She staggered, struggling to keep her balance.
Rocky padded closer. “I can do badger rides.”
Bubbling Stream bounded toward him. “Me first!”
Moth Flight padded forward, Honey Pelt wobbling on her back. Her thoughts drifted and unease twisted beneath her pelt.
Windstar had nearly died. Spider Paw had nearly drowned. Torn between the needs of her Clan and the needs of her kits, Moth
Flight felt herself veering between indecision and panic. She wasn’t being the best medicine cat she could be. Her medicine cat duties threatened her kits’ safety. Her duties as a mother threatened the good of her Clan. How could she give her full attention to both?