Leafpaw’s excitement bubbled over, and her words spilled out like water tumbling over the shining starlit stones. “And tomorrow night is the half moon,” she finished. “Cinderpelt has gone to tell Mothwing and Littlecloud, so we can all go to the Moonpool together.”
Barkface stretched forward and rested his muzzle against the tip of Leafpaw’s ear. “This is the best news I’ve ever heard,” he murmured. “Thank you for bringing it to me.” He heaved himself up and padded over to Onewhisker and Ashfoot. Others had joined them, guessing there was an important announcement coming.
Quickly Barkface told them about Leafpaw’s journey.
“Tomorrow night all the medicine cats will meet at the Moonpool,” he meowed. “The night after that, Onewhisker, you and I will go together so that you can receive your nine lives and your leader’s name.”
For a moment Leafpaw thought she saw a flicker of panic flash through Onewhisker’s eyes. Surely he should be relieved to know he would finally be able to share tongues with StarClan and have his leadership recognized by his warrior ancestors. What reason could he have for wanting to put it off?
Onewhisker blinked and shook his head. Leafpaw decided she must have imagined the panic in his expression.
“From what Leafpaw tells us, it’s a long journey,” Onewhisker mewed. “You can’t travel there twice in two days; you’ll be worn out. I’ve waited this long for my nine lives and my name. I can wait awhile longer.”
Leafpaw was impressed by Onewhisker’s thoughtfulness.
Then she looked more closely at him, and wondered if he could possibly be afraid that StarClan would reject him, after he was appointed in such a hurry by the dying Tallstar. She blinked sympathetically. Every cat knew that the deputy of a Clan succeeded the leader when he lost his ninth life—even if they had been deputy for only a few moments. That was part of the warrior code, and whatever else had changed on their long journey from the forest, the warrior code would always remain at the heart of every Clan.
Barkface seemed content to leave some time between his visits to the Moonpool, because he didn’t try to change Onewhisker’s mind. “I’ll see you tomorrow at sunset, Leafpaw,” he meowed.
“I’ll tell Cinderpelt,” she replied. “We can meet by the stream at the edge of the trees.”
Barkface nodded. “Go well,” he murmured, before heading back to his den.
Onewhisker and Ashfoot began talking quietly together.
Mudclaw muttered something to Webfoot, and the pair of them raced for the top of the hollow, disappearing over it in a couple of heartbeats.
Leafpaw felt a light touch on her shoulder. She turned, and was startled to see Crowfeather gazing intensely into her eyes. “Have you really found a place to speak with StarClan?” he asked.
“Yes, really.” Leafpaw swallowed. “There’s something I have to tell you, Crowfeather. Is there somewhere quiet we can talk?”
“Come over here.” Crowfeather led her to the edge of the hollow and sat down under a stunted tree with leafless, twisted branches. He looked expectantly at Leafpaw with his head to one side.
She took a deep breath. “I didn’t just dream of the Moonpool last night. I saw Feathertail as well.” That was one detail she had left out when she told her story to Barkface.
Crowfeather’s eyes opened wide. “Feathertail?”
“Yes. She gave me a message for you.” Leafpaw’s heart pounded so loud, she was convinced Crowfeather would be able to hear it. Would he be angry with what she had to say?
After all, he might want to carry on grieving for Feathertail.
Leafpaw told herself that wasn’t her problem; Feathertail might be watching them right now, and she had to keep her promise to deliver the message.
“She said, ‘Tell him not to grieve.’ It will be many moons before you can be together again. She told you not to be blinded to the living.”
Crowfeather met Leafpaw’s gaze with such a hungry look, it was as if he wanted to devour every scrap of her meeting with the cat he had loved so deeply. Leafpaw blinked. How could he ever stop grieving if he felt this strongly?
At last the WindClan warrior looked down at his paws.
“I’ll never stop wishing she hadn’t died,” he whispered. “Does Feathertail think I could ever forget about her?”
“That isn’t what she meant!” Leafpaw protested.
“There’ll never be another cat like Feathertail.”
Crowfeather whipped up his head, and there was a gleam of anger in his eyes. “I don’t care how long I have to wait to see her again. If she can wait, so can I!”
He spun around and bounded across the clearing, with Leafpaw staring helplessly after him.
The half-moon floated high above them, shedding soft gray light over the slope beside the rushing stream. The five medicine cats toiled up the last few tail-lengths that led to the barrier of thornbushes. Cinderpelt looked exhausted, her eyes glazed and her pace increasingly uneven, but she seemed determined to keep going. Mothwing hardly seemed tired by the journey at all. Right from the start she had bounded ahead and doubled back to check which way to go next, as if she couldn’t wait to reach the place where she would share tongues with StarClan. Leafpaw thought she couldn’t have been more eager if she had really believed in them, and she wondered if Mothwing was looking for a chance to prove that StarClan didn’t exist. She pushed the thought away—Mothwing was loyal and kindhearted, and Leafpaw knew she’d do anything to keep her lack of faith a secret from the other medicine cats.
Leafpaw showed them the narrow gap that led through the barrier of thorns, and at last they stood at the top of the hollow, gazing down at the Moonpool. The water shone with the same pale light she remembered from before, while the stream tumbling from the crack in the rock glittered with starshine. Its gentle plashing into the pool was the only sound.
“Yes, this is the place,” Barkface murmured.
He gestured with his tail for Leafpaw to lead the way down the path, and once again she felt her paws slipping into the pawprints made by those cats of long ago.
“I wonder how we’re supposed to share tongues with StarClan?” Littlecloud asked, when all the medicine cats were sitting around the Moonpool.
Leafpaw blinked. She hadn’t thought of that. Back at Mothermouth, cats used to lie with their noses touching the Moonstone; she remembered the icy chill that would creep through her fur, pulling her into a deep sleep where she could meet with StarClan.
She looked around, searching for something lit up by StarClan, as radiant as the Moonstone had been. There was nothing to see but the moss-covered rocks and trailing ferns—and the starlit surface of the pool. “Maybe we should touch the water?” she suggested.
The medicine cats glanced at one another. “It’s worth a try,” Barkface agreed.
Shivering, Leafpaw crept forward and lapped a few drops of water. It was icy cold, and tasted of stars and the wind and the indigo sky. She closed her eyes, breathing the scents as they flooded her mouth.
A chill spread from her ears to the tip of her tail, and she could no longer feel the stone beneath her paws. Instead she was floating in a black void, where everything was dark and silent. There were voices, too faint and shrill at first to hear what they were saying. Then the sound of wind and splashing water died away, and she realized they were calling her name.
“I’m here,” she whispered.
She opened her eyes. A vast stretch of water lay in front of her: not the Moonpool, tucked in its sheltering hollow, but the lake. Wind stirred the surface into rippling waves, tipped with curls of froth. The water looked as if it reflected a blazing sunset, with all shades of red lapping thickly at the shore.