Fading Echoes

“We can spare them.” But only just. The parched forest had yielded few herbs over greenleaf, and leaf-bare waited like a fox in the shadows.

“Longtail seems to be stiffer than ever,” Mothwing observed. “Have you tried crushing poppy seed and combining it with marigold and comfrey in a poultice?”

Jayfeather looked at her in surprise. Why had he never thought of that? The poppy seed would reduce the pain at once while the comfrey and marigold worked on the inflammation. “That’s a great idea!”

“It used to work on Voletooth’s shoulder.”

“Thanks.” He spread the herbs in front of her. “There’s tansy, watermint, and feverfew here.” His mind was fizzing with curiosity. How had she felt overseeing Mistystar’s receiving her nine lives? Did she finally believe in StarClan now that she’d seen it for herself?

As Mothwing bundled the herbs back into a wad she could carry in her jaws, Jayfeather gave his tail a casual flick. “How was Mistystar’s ceremony?”

“Fine,” Mothwing mewed levelly. “She’s going to be a great leader. Have you got a blade of grass I can tie this bundle with?”

The RiverClan medicine cat wasn’t giving anything away.

Jayfeather padded to the side of the cave and plucked a long stalk of grass poking from the base of the rock wall. As he carried it back to Mothwing, he took a deep breath and probed her recent memories.

Pale sunlight washed the Moonpool, reflecting the clear dawn sky. Jayfeather flinched at the bright images shimmering in Mothwing’s mind. He was used to the night shadows of the Moonpool. Mistystar must have been in a hurry to receive her nine lives.

Mothwing was watching Mistystar. Jayfeather could sense the grief and disquiet of the Clan they’d left behind as the RiverClan deputy crouched at the pool, her paws tucked beneath her, nose tip dabbing the water.

Jayfeather cocked his head. Mothwing’s sense of separation from her Clanmate felt strange. Her bond to her Clanmate was as strong as those Jayfeather felt for his own, and yet she was observing the ceremony like an outsider.

Mistystar suddenly flinched in her sleep with a cry of pain. Mothwing jumped, anxiety jabbing her. Does it hurt? The shocked thought echoed in her mind.

As Mistystar fell still once more, Mothwing fought the urge to creep forward and check that the RiverClan deputy was all right.

Was something real happening to her Clanmate?

No. Mothwing pushed away the thought.

Yes! Jayfeather willed her to accept it. How could she not believe? She was so stubborn. And yet Jayfeather was impressed by her determination.

They have not visited me; how can they be real? The thought burned like lightning in her mind.

Mistystar was stirring and Mothwing approached. “Are you all right?”

“You weren’t there!”

Mothwing stiffened; then calmness flooded her. The discovery of her secret seemed to bring her relief. “No.” She shook her head, meeting her leader’s gaze without guilt or worry. “You will always visit StarClan alone. They don’t exist for me in the way that they do for you.”

“You…you don’t believe in StarClan?” Mistystar’s pelt rippled with shock. “But you’ve been our medicine cat for so long! Have you never walked with StarClan in your dreams?”

Mothwing felt the stone, cool beneath her pads, weathered by countless moons. “You have your beliefs; I have mine. The cats you see in your dreams guide you and protect you in ways that I have lived without so far. I am a good medicine cat and that has been enough to serve my Clan.”

Mistystar gazed at her medicine cat a moment longer, then dipped her head.

Jayfeather blinked, darkness engulfing him once more as he slid out of Mothwing’s thoughts.

He could feel her gaze like a breeze stirring his pelt. She was watching him curiously; she had known all along that he was inside her memories, reliving the scene at the Moonpool. “You know I have no connection with them,” she reminded him. Her tail brushed the earth. “It doesn’t make me any less of a medicine cat.” She tied the grass around the bundle. “You need to understand that.” She picked up the herbs, her jaws releasing their fragrance as they closed softly around the leaves. Then she turned and padded from the den.

Jayfeather listened to the bramble swish behind her, his paws tingling. Even without StarClan to guide and strengthen her, Mothwing was formidable. Instinctively he dipped his head to her, just as Mistystar had done. StarClan had made a wise choice after all.

Chapter 3

Jayfeather looked up as the brambles at the entrance to his den swished.

Lionblaze poked his head through. “Mistystar and Mothwing have gone.”

Jayfeather could feel urgency rippling beneath the golden warrior’s pelt. “What’s wrong?”

Lionblaze hesitated.

“Let’s go into the forest,” Jayfeather suggested.