As she tried to struggle to her paws, a shadow fell over her. Claws glinted in the sunlight as a tom slashed at her muzzle. Terror shrilling through her pelt, she rolled out of the way and hauled herself up, lashing out as she leaped to her paws. Her claws met something soft and ripped through. It crumpled under her blow. She squinted against the light, trying to see what she’d hit. On the ground in front of her, she saw a small body. Its orange-and-black pelt was matted with blood. Sparkpelt’s lost kit. Horror seared her belly. She felt the blood on her claws seep into her fur, warm and wet, filling the air with a terrible sweetness. I killed him!
She woke with a jolt, her pelt clammy. Blinking into the darkness of the den, she struggled to catch her breath. It was just a dream. But the horror lingered in her belly. She slid away from Bramblestar and climbed out of their nest. It was more than a dream. She was sure. It was a warning. Heart lurching, she darted out of the den. She had to check on Sparkpelt. She had to see that the kits were safe.
She slithered as quietly as she could down the rock tumble and hurried through the moonlight to the nursery. Nosing her way in, she blinked, adjusting her eyes to the darkness.
Sparkpelt was asleep in her nest, Flamekit and Finchkit pressed against her belly. Daisy snored softly in the nest beside them. Relief washed Squirrelflight’s pelt. They were safe. It had been just a dream.
As she crept from the nursery, movement caught her eye. A shadow shifted outside the medicine den. She glimpsed white paws in the darkness and recognized Leafpool. What was she doing up? It wasn’t even close to dawn. She padded toward her. “Leafpool?” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
Leafpool’s eyes glinted in the shadows. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Why not?” Squirrelflight’s belly tightened.
Leafpool frowned. “I’m not sure, but I have a terrible feeling that something is wrong.” She shuddered. “Why are you awake?”
“I had a nightmare,” Squirrelflight told her. “About a kit.” She glanced toward the nursery. “I thought Sparkpelt’s kits might be in trouble.”
Leafpool’s gaze shimmered with alarm. “Are you sure the dream was about Sparkpelt’s kits?”
Squirrelflight stiffened. “Who else could they be?”
“Moonlight’s.” Her mew was barely more than a whisper.
Alarm sparked through Squirrelflight’s fur. Was the dream a warning? Were Moonlight’s kits in danger? “We have to go.” She raced for the camp entrance. “If her kits are in danger, we have to save them.”
CHAPTER 22
Squirrelflight scrabbled between boulders, climbing the hill that would bring them close to the Sisters’ camp. She could hear Leafpool panting behind. The sky was still as black as raven feathers, glittering with stars as they pushed onward, but light was pooling at the horizon. The Clan patrols would be gathering at the border soon.
“We’re nearly there, right?” Leafpool puffed. “I recognize this track.”
Squirrelflight glanced over her shoulder. Her sister’s pelt was ruffled, her eyes glittering with exhaustion. “It’s just over this hill.” She paused as they reached the top and looked down into the valley. The Sisters’ camp was hidden among the thick overgrowth at the bottom. “I hope we’re in time. My dream was really bad. If it was about Moonlight’s kits, she must need us.”
Leafpool stopped beside her. “I had a dream too.”
Squirrelflight looked at her. “About the kits?”
“Yes.” Leafpool eyed her uncertainly. “There were wounded kits everywhere, more than I could treat. I had the sense they were Moonlight’s kits.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why StarClan would send me a dream about the Sisters. They’re not Clan cats. But it felt important.” As she spoke, she pricked her ears. “Do you hear that?”
Squirrelflight listened. A wail drifted from the valley. Her heart lurched. There was pain in the cry. “Moonlight!” She pelted down the hillside, zigzagging between bushes. As she plunged through a wall of bracken, another wail rose from the camp. Her paws skidded on the earth, sending stones spraying behind her. She could hear Leafpool’s paw steps thrumming at her heels as she slewed past a bramble. Heart pounding, she crashed through the fern entrance.
Leafpool burst out behind her as she slowed to a stop on the grassy clearing. The wail sounded again. Squirrelflight jerked her muzzle around, scanning the moonlit camp.
Snow was hurrying toward the birthing den. Creek and Flurry crouched, wide-eyed, at the edge of the camp, while Furze paced anxiously beside them.
Snow stopped and stared. “What are you doing here?”
Squirrelflight ignored the question. “Where’s Moonlight? Is she okay?”
“She’s kitting.”
Squirrelflight saw fear in Snow’s gaze.
Leafpool hurried forward. “Take me to her,” she ordered briskly.
“But she’s kitting!” Snow blinked at her.
“I’m a medicine cat, remember?” Leafpool told her. “I treated Sunrise.”
“Hawk and Tempest are taking care of her.” Snow sounded uncertain. “They know what to do.” A screech echoed from the birthing den.
“It sounds like they need help.” Leafpool pushed past Snow and disappeared inside.
Squirrelflight blinked at Snow, trying not to betray her fear. “She’s helped deliver countless kits in ThunderClan, including my own. She knows what she’s doing.”
“I hope so.” Snow’s pelt prickled along her spine. “Moonlight’s been kitting since sundown. She’s had one kit but something’s wrong. We’ve never seen anything like this. Perhaps it’s because she was expecting for so long. The kits might be too big. The next one won’t come. I think it’s stuck.”
Pressing back panic, Squirrelflight darted after Leafpool. She blinked, adjusting to the darkness, as Snow squeezed after her.
At the edge of the den, a newborn kit mewled at Tempest’s paws while Hawk crouched beside Moonlight. The queen was stiff with pain as she fought against a spasm. Her thick pelt was matted. Her eyes rolled wildly and she let out another shriek. Squirrelflight was shocked to see strong, stubborn Moonlight so overwhelmed. Her suffering must be terrible.
Leafpool ran her paws over Moonlight’s belly.
“Snow says a kit is stuck,” Squirrelflight told her.
“I know.” Leafpool didn’t take her eyes from Moonlight. “It’s facing the wrong way. I can feel it. We need to ease the pain and give Moonlight the strength to push.” She looked at Hawk. “Do you know what raspberry leaves look like?”
Hawk nodded.
“What about ragweed?” Leafpool asked.
Snow blinked at her eagerly. “I know ragweed.”
“Find some.” Leafpool’s gaze flitted to Squirrelflight. “Go with them. Bring as much as you can, but be quick. We need to get this kit out before Moonlight exhausts herself completely.”
Squirrelflight nodded, relieved that she could help. As she ducked out of the den, Hawk and Snow pushed past her and raced out of camp. She followed, chasing Snow’s white tail as it flashed away between the bushes. Branches poked at her pelt. Loose earth crumbled beneath her paws. She followed Snow to the top of the hill and out onto a stretch of grass. The white she-cat had stopped and was staring toward the distant horizon, her eyes narrowed against the wind that streamed through her fur. The land was lit now with pale dawn light. Hawk was already streaking down the hillside ahead of them, skimming the grass like an owl swooping for prey.
“She’s fetching raspberry leaves,” Snow told Squirrelflight. “Ragweed is this way.” She bounded downhill toward a shallow stream.