“Is that for the new den?” Leafstar had stopped hiding her curiosity and was as quick now to ask questions as Squirrelflight.
Flurry finished applying the poultice and looked at her campmates. “We’re building Moonlight’s birthing den.”
“Are her kits due soon?” Squirrelflight hoped her estimation that the Sisters might be gone by leaf-bare was correct.
“The kits will come in about a moon,” Flurry told her.
Moonlight dropped the vines beside the gorse bush and headed across the clearing. “Is the wound healing, Sister?” she called to Flurry as she neared.
“Yes, Mother. The swelling has gone down,” Flurry told her.
“Good.” Moonlight stopped beside her and nodded politely to Squirrelflight and Leafstar. “Have you eaten?”
“Sparrow brought us prey,” Squirrelflight told her. She dipped her head. “I wish you’d let me help with the hunting. I don’t like being treated like an elder.”
“An elder?” Moonlight looked puzzled.
Leafstar stretched her injured leg tentatively. “An elder is an old cat. In the Clans, when warriors become elders, they only hunt if they want to. Younger warriors and apprentices make sure they are well fed and cared for. Elders need never leave the camp.”
“I could never stay in camp all day,” Moonlight meowed.
“I don’t like it much.” Squirrelflight flicked her tail-tip irritably. “I need to stretch my legs.”
Leafstar’s ears twitched. “If you let us go, we could both stretch our legs.”
Moonlight sniffed Leafstar’s wound. “We’ll let you go when we move on. For now you’ll have to put up with living like your elders.”
Squirrelflight looked on as Creek and Sparrow wove the vines between the branches to build the gorse den. “Can I help here, then?” Two long days of doing nothing had left her restless.
“That would be kind.” Moonlight straightened. “Leafstar should rest this leg, though.”
“I’m happy to watch,” Leafstar told her.
Moonlight led Squirrelflight across the clearing. Flurry padded after them. Stone was still scraping earth from the den. He paused as Squirrelflight reached him. She peered inside and saw that he’d created a wide dip around the central stem. Branches had been broken off to open up the space inside, but the remaining walls were still thick enough to keep the den cool. It looked a lot like a warrior den.
Tempest padded around the pile of vines. “We’ll need more.”
Moonlight nodded to Snow. “Sister, take Creek and fetch more,” she meowed.
Snow dipped her head. She made her way out of camp, Creek hurrying behind her.
Tempest beckoned Stone and Grass with her tail. “Use these to reinforce the back of the den,” she told them.
“Sure.” Stone glanced at his brother. “You weave from the inside and I’ll weave from out here.”
Grass picked up a vine in his teeth and dragged it into the den while Stone hauled another vine around the back.
As Tempest watched them disappear, Squirrelflight saw sadness in the tabby’s gaze. Was she thinking about their father? Where was he?
“We’ll work on this side.” Moonlight pulled the remaining vines around the back of the den.
Squirrelflight followed, glancing at Tempest. “It must have been hard for her, raising her kits alone.”
Moonlight’s eyes widened. “She didn’t raise them alone. She had us.”
“But she must miss her mate.”
Moonlight tucked a vine into the den wall and began to draw it through, tugging at it with her paws. “Why would she miss her mate?”
“Doesn’t she love him?” Squirrelflight pressed a vine through a gap.
“I don’t know,” Moonlight told her. “We prefer to live without toms. Tempest could have stayed with him if she’d wanted to, but she chose to travel with us and raise her kits among her sisters.”
Squirrelflight couldn’t imagine raising kits without Bramblestar. And how could she think of living without him? Even though she hadn’t been gone long, she missed him. Would he forgive her for coming here? Suddenly her heart quickened. She wanted to see him, to explain why she’d crossed the border. He’d understand when he realized how important it was to her.
“Here.” Moonlight pushed a stray tendril toward her. “Pull this one through.”
Squirrelflight tugged at it while Moonlight fastened the other end into the wall. “If you prefer not to have toms around, what will happen to Grass and Stone? They’re your kin. Can they stay?”
“No.” Moonlight sat back on her haunches and inspected her work. “They’re old enough to leave us. We’ve been waiting until the stars are in place.”
Squirrelflight wondered for a moment if the Sisters had their own StarClan. She glanced at Moonlight. “What do you mean?”
“Wait until tonight,” Moonlight told her. “You’ll see.”
“Do they want to leave?” Squirrelflight wondered how the Sisters could send their young away.
“Of course they want to leave. They’re toms. They have a deep connection with the land. They must travel it as they wish, not be tied to our path.”
Squirrelflight couldn’t imagine being separated from her kits no matter how old they were. “Won’t Tempest miss them?”
“At first,” Moonlight told her. “But there will be new litters to take care of.” She glanced at her belly. “And we are each mother to all the young.”
“Where will Stone and Grass go?”
“Wherever they choose.” Moonlight reached for the end of Squirrelflight’s vine and began to tuck it between the branches. “They might travel together, or become loners or join rogues, or live with Twopaws. Their ancestors will guide them.”
“Twopaws?” Squirrelflight asked.
Moonlight tipped her head. “The furless animals that build big stone dens to live in.”
Twolegs. Squirrelflight shuddered. “But why would any cat choose to be a kittypet?”
“Our ancestors were kittypets, as you call them,” Moonlight told her. “All the Sisters are descended from den-bound cats. Our first Mothers were one family.”
Squirrelflight let go of the vine and Moonlight pulled it. She suddenly understood why the Sisters looked so similar. Their large frames and thick, long fur marked them as different from most of the warriors and rogues Squirrelflight had met. It made sense that they were descended from a single family. She was eager to know more. “Flurry said that you all have medicine-cat skills.”
Moonlight glanced at her. “What’s a medicine cat?”
“In the Clans, we have cats who have special knowledge about healing herbs,” she explained.
“Surely it is safer to share such knowledge?”
“There’s more to being a medicine cat than knowing about herbs. They have a special gift. They can communicate with our dead ancestors.”
“They speak with the dead?” Moonlight looked suddenly interested. She rested her forepaws on the ground. “Is their gift passed from mother to kit?”
“Medicine cats don’t have kits.”
Moonlight blinked. “Why not?”
“It’s forbidden. They devote their lives to caring for their Clan.”
Moonlight frowned. “That must be hard. I couldn’t imagine life without kits.”
“Nor could I.” Squirrelflight thought of Leafpool. How hard it must have been for her sister to watch Squirrelflight raise Jayfeather, Lionblaze, and Hollyleaf, to pretend all the time that she wasn’t their mother. How much simpler it was here. Kits were born and the Sisters raised them together. They could take mates where they liked. There were no rules about falling in love with cats from other Clans. Or about who could have kits and who couldn’t. And yet they had to send their sons away. She glanced at Moonlight’s belly. “Aren’t you frightened you might have sons who’ll have to leave you?”
“We can’t hold on to those we love forever,” Moonlight told her.
“What about their father?” Squirrelflight hesitated. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but did you love him?”