Mistystar’s Omen

“Mistystar?” Dapplenose was standing a little way off. “We’re going to bury Leopardstar now. Would you like to join us?”

“Of course,” Mistystar meowed. She stretched her legs to ease some of the stiffness. Sleep could come later.

Almost the whole Clan gathered in the clearing by the lake to watch the elders gently scoop earth over Leopardstar’s body. Mothwing stood by the former leader’s head and spoke the words of the ceremony, letting them drift in the air like scent.

“May StarClan light your path, Leopardstar. May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”

Mistystar stared at Mothwing’s golden pelt, wondering what the other cats would do if they knew the truth. Mistystar was surrounded by Clanmates, their cheers of her new name still echoed in her ears, yet she had never felt more alone. How could she lead her Clan without a medicine cat who believed in their warrior ancestors? Why had none of the StarClan cats told her the truth? Were they angry with RiverClan for having a medicine cat who could never fulfill all her duties? And yet they had still given Mistystar her nine lives…

After the ceremony, Mistystar headed to Leopardstar’s den beneath the rowan tree and started to pull out the dusty bedding. A matted chunk of moss got stuck at the entrance to the den, and Mistystar dug in her hind paws as she struggled to yank it free. Graymist joined her, and together they tugged the moss into the open air. It smelled damp and musty, making Mistystar sneeze.

“You must be exhausted,” Graymist commented.

Why does everyone keep telling me how tired I must be?

“I’m fine,” Mistystar snapped, a little more sharply than she intended.

Graymist tipped her head on one side and studied Mistystar. “Is everything okay? You seem upset.”

Mistystar shrugged as she clawed at the chunk of moss, breaking it into small pieces that would be easier to carry out of the camp. “There’s a lot to do,” she mewed. “And I miss Leopardstar.”

“We all do,” Graymist reminded her. “But there’s no rush for you to fill her paw steps. With all the Clans still recovering from the drought, things should be peaceful for a while. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Mistystar felt a sudden urge to confide in Graymist about Mothwing, to tell her how lost she felt without a medicine cat who would be able to share tongues with StarClan. But this was too huge a secret to share with her Clanmates. She would have to find a way of dealing with this alone. She touched Graymist lightly on the flank with her tail.

“I’m fine,” she meowed. “I’ll clear this away later. I just want to get some sleep now.”

Graymist looked doubtful. “What about clean bedding? Shall I have the apprentices fetch some for you?”

Mistystar shook her head. “I can sleep on what’s left. I’ll add it to their duties tomorrow.” Graymist trotted away, and Mistystar crawled into the narrow den beneath the rowan tree. Even though the moss had been cleared out, Leopardstar’s scent still clung to the walls and the branches overhead. Mistystar curled up with her nose tucked under her tail and shut her eyes. As she drifted into sleep, she wondered if she would dream herself back into StarClan, where she could question her ancestors about Mothwing, but instead she found herself searching through a dark, empty landscape, with the sound of running water just out of reach and no cats to answer her cries.

She was woken the following day by the sound of the rowan branches clashing in the wind. A few leaves tumbled into the den, blown by a gust that pierced Mistystar’s fur. For a moment, Mistystar stared at the curved earthen walls around her, wondering where the other warriors were; then she remembered that Leopardstar was dead, she was now the leader of RiverClan, and this would be her den for the rest of her life. My nine lives

.

Outside she heard Mothwing giving Willowshine instructions: “Thanks to Jayfeather, we have plenty of watermint and tansy, but our stocks of comfrey are running low and we should gather more while the plants are still growing. I used most of our cobwebs on Rushpaw’s cut when he fell off that tree trunk, so we need to stock up on those, too.”

Mistystar recalled Willowshine’s offer to come to the Moonpool with her, and she felt her stomach churn as she realized Mothwing’s apprentice must know the truth about her mentor’s lack of faith. There was such a large part of her training that could never come from Mothwing. Had Willowshine spoken to the other medicine cats about it? Mistystar pushed herself to her paws, feeling every one of her seasons as she stretched her spine. She padded out of her den just as Willowshine was making for the entrance to the camp.

“Wait, Willowshine! I’ll come with you!”

The medicine cat turned, looking surprised. “Er, okay, Mistystar.”