“That’s true,” Cinderpelt meowed. “We have four Clans of exhausted cats to look after, and our stock of healing herbs barely amounts to a couple of leaves and a pawful of crushed berries.”
Leafpaw gulped, suddenly wondering if she should have gone with the patrol after all to look for new supplies of medicine.
“We’re going to meet with the other medicine cats,” Cinderpelt went on. “We need to discuss what to do about finding new herbs, and how we are going to share tongues with our warrior ancestors when we are so far from Highstones.” She gazed up at the sky, where the half-moon drifted behind wisps of cloud, and her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I hope we find another Moonstone place soon.”
She gestured with her tail, and Leafpaw saw her friend Mothwing, the RiverClan medicine cat, sitting in the shelter of a bramble thicket with Littlecloud, the medicine cat from ShadowClan. Around them, warriors and apprentices from all four Clans were dividing into groups as the hunting patrols prepared to leave.
Cinderpelt waited until most of the patrols had gone before joining the other medicine cats. Leafpaw bounded over to touch noses with Mothwing.
Mothwing blinked nervously at her. “I feel so helpless!” she murmured into Leafpaw’s ear. “I have no supplies, and the cats are so tired and weak.”
Leafpaw wasn’t surprised that her friend was anxious. Although Mothwing had trained as a warrior and received her warrior name several seasons ago, she had not been a medicine cat apprentice for as long as Leafpaw. The death of Mudfur before they left the forest meant that she had to take on all the responsibilities of a medicine cat before she had finished her training. Leafpaw felt a wave of gratitude that Cinderpelt was still alive, and young and strong enough to live for many, many more moons. She was in no hurry to lose her mentor, and she didn’t envy Mothwing at all. But she reminded herself that Mothwing had been taught well, and she would be able to ask the other medicine cats for advice if she needed to. Besides, in this new place they would all have things to learn.
She gave Mothwing’s ear a quick lick. “You’ll be fine,” she promised. “We’ll all help you.”
Cinderpelt glanced around. “Where’s Barkface?”
“Still with Tallstar, I guess,” Littlecloud replied. He let out a sigh. “I’m not sure there’s much any cat can do for him now.”
Leafpaw flinched. It didn’t seem fair that StarClan should summon the WindClan leader to join them when he hadn’t even seen his Clan’s new home.
“Here he comes now.” Cinderpelt twitched her ears to where Barkface was approaching with his head bowed and his tail trailing.
“How is Tallstar?” Littlecloud demanded.
Barkface heaved a sigh from the depths of his belly as he flopped down under the brambles beside the other medicine cats. “Sleeping,” he replied. “He is very weak. The journey has been too much for him, and it is clear that StarClan is waiting for him to join them.”
“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Leafpaw meowed.
Barkface shook his head. “We may have travelled all the way from the forest, but Tallstar has a longer journey than all of us ahead of him. He has been a noble leader, but he cannot go on forever.”
“All the Clans will honour him,” Cinderpelt murmured. She bowed her head for a moment and then straightened up, giving her fur a shake. “Meanwhile there are tasks that we must do.”
“We need to look for herbs,” Mothwing meowed. “Disease could spread easily when we’re all tired and hungry.”
“True,” replied Cinderpelt. “Soon we’ll go and search, and hope that StarClan leads us to what we need. But before that.. . .” Her voice trailed off, and she scratched at the ground with her forepaw before she went on. “There may be a patrol out looking for new camps for each Clan, but we need more than that if this is to be our home. Where are the Clans going to gather at full moon? What about the Moon stone? It’s many days’ journey from here to Mothermouth.”
Leafpaw’s paws ached at the thought of retracing her steps along all the weary paths they had followed since they left Highstones. Surely it would be impossible to travel there every half moon to meet with StarClan? But where would new leaders go now to receive their names and their nine lives?
There was a long pause. None of the cats had the answer—or knew where to suggest looking.
“Are we sure this is the right place?” Littlecloud mewed at last. “Without the Moonstone, the only way we can reach StarClan is through dreams and signs, and I’ve seen nothing to reassure me that this is where we are supposed to be.”
“It must be right,” Leafpaw pleaded. She struggled to think how she could make the other medicine cats believe her, when they were so much more experienced than she was. “Stoneteller met with his Tribe’s warrior ancestors in the Cave of Pointed Stones,” she added, remembering their visit to the Tribe of Rushing Water. “So maybe there are other places like the Moonstone.”
“I believe that StarClan sent us a sign when we saw their reflections shining in the lake,” Cinderpelt mewed, and Leafpaw felt the fur on her shoulders lie down in her relief. “But we still need a place where we can share tongues with them.”
“Maybe they’ll send us a sign to tell us where we can find another Moonstone,” Barkface suggested.
“Maybe.” Littlecloud sounded dubious. “I just hope it’s soon, that’s all.”
“But does it really matter?” Mothwing asked. “I mean, there’s nothing to stop us from finding the right herbs, and. . .”
Her voice died away as the other medicine cats stared at her in astonishment. Leafpaw winced; how could Mothwing believe that the only task of a medicine cat was to heal?
Mothwing’s gaze flicked from one cat to the next, uncertainty and embarrassment in her eyes.
“Mothwing means we can carry on looking after our Clanmates while we wait for StarClan to speak to us,” Leafpaw meowed helpfully.
Mothwing turned to her in relief. “Yes—yes, that’s right.”
Cinderpelt’s ears twitched.
“I suppose we could start restocking our supplies,” meowed Littlecloud.
Barkface heaved himself to his paws. “If you don’t mind, I ought to stay with Tallstar. But I’d be grateful for some coltsfoot, if you can find it. He’s having trouble breathing.”
“There’ll be no coltsfoot leaves until newleaf,” Mothwing pointed out anxiously. “Would juniper berries do as well?”
Barkface nodded. “Quite right. Thanks, Mothwing.”
“We’ll bring you some,” Cinderpelt promised.
With a brief grunt of thanks, Barkface padded to the clump of grass where Tallstar lay, an unmoving heap of black and white fur. Leafpaw saw him exchange a word or two with Onewhisker, who was keeping vigil beside his dying leader. Then he settled down with his flank touching Tallstar’s, letting the old cat know that he would not be alone as he began his long, dark journey.
“Well done, Mothwing!” Leafpaw mewed. “I didn’t think of using juniper berries instead.”
Mothwing turned her head to give Leafpaw’s ear a quick lick. “Where shall we go first?”
Cinderpelt stood up stiffly, favouring the leg she had injured long ago on the Thunderpath. “If we go that way,” she began, gesturing with her tail, “we’ll end up in the Twoleg horseplace. I think we should head the opposite way, closer to the lake.”
“Firestar says it’s boggy there,” Leafpaw reminded her.
“There’s