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Mountainleap started his day with Emberpool’s soft purrs filling the holy den. He opened one eye, ready to close them if he had to pretend to be asleep for longer. Emberpool was checking her herbs. She kept them in tidy piles in the alcove of the giant bush. Her tail swished the loose tufts of moss about. She and Mountainleap slept in the shadows, as the sun shone on the other side of the den. Lightningfeather slept across from Moutainleap, still exhausted from the tick fever he’d contracted. He yawned as the dawn stretched over his eyes.
“How’s your head this morning, Lightningfeather?” Emberpool asked, trotting out of her alcove. Mountainleap closed his eyes.
“Give me a minute, I just woke up,” Lightningfeather groaned.
“I’m going to check on the elders,” Emberpool sighed. “Yowl if you need anything.” Mountainleap didn’t open his eyes until Emberpool’s pawsteps faded out of the holy den. Lightningfeather groaned and rolled over, back to Mountainleap.
The seer crept towards the alcove of herbs. Emberpool’s poppy seeds were in a neat pile in the center of the collection. He licked two off the top and swallowed. He knew he shouldn’t steal herbs, but they helped him get through the day. Besides, it was only one or two poppy seeds in the morning. Emberpool wouldn’t notice.
Mountainleap fluffed his long pelt out and stared into camp. The kits were waking up and playing while the sunrise hunting patrol brought back fish for the fresh kill pile. Flowerpaw was reciting parts of the warrior code to Coastbrook, perfecting each rule. Sprucefoot and Sappelt stumbled into the holy den, ready to catch up on missed sleep from the night guard. Mountainleap’s paws stuck to the ground. How many requests would he get that day? How many snap judgements would he have to make as his clanmates begged for guidance from StarClan? If he didn’t leave the den, they would only hunt him down. Mountainleap sighed, the calmness of the poppy seeds starting to work their way through him. He stepped into the clearing.
“Alright, kits!” Lobsterspot cheered in front of the counselor’s den. “Can you come over here?” Walruskit and Yellowkit, who both had their teeth in one another in a playfight, squirmed to join Lobsterspot. Needlecall led her gaggle of kits over, scooping Gravelkit and Mothkit up as she went. Alderfeather laid beside Lobsterspot, contently watching.
“I don’t want a story,” Reindeerkit whined, padding her mother. “I want to play.”
“Alderfeather suggested I talk to you all this morning,” Lobsterspot explained. “We want to see if any of you would like to be counselors when you grow up.”
“I already know I wanna be a counselor,” Finkit huffed. “I want Beepelt as a mentor.”
“We’re gonna see if anyone else would like to be one!” Lobsterspot continued. “I’ve asked around, and Sparrowsong is going to come and talk with us. We get to talk to her about her day and how she’s been feeling. Try to think like a counselor, alright? Sparrowsong, we’re ready for you!” Sparrowsong had been patiently waiting for her cue near the story-keeper’s den. She trotted through the kits and tried not to step on anyone. While she began to speak, Needlecall drifted away from her children towards Mountainleap.
“Good morning, Mountainleap,” Needlecall sighed. “I hope it’s not too early to talk about something. I don’t know when I’ll have a moment away from the kits.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Mountainleap said. He directed Needlecall to Highrock. The two sat in its shadow.
“It’s about Leafkit,” Needlecall explained. “As you know, he’s a tom now, and his littermates have been very kind to him. The other kits haven’t teased him to my knowledge.” Mountainleap glanced at the kits. The newly declared tom was laughing with Sparrowsong about something.
“Is there someone else teasing him?” Mountainleap asked, worried.
“I don’t know,” Needlecall admitted. “He and I talked to Brackensplash about it, and I know no one would dare insult him with Freckletuft as deputy. She adores her little siblings. But I worry that cats aren’t truly accepting. I worry he won’t make friends or find love. Does StarClan know if he’ll be alright?”
“I’ll look for signs,” Mountainleap assured her.
“Thank you so much,” Needlecall sighed. “You hear anyone insulting my son, you send them my way. I’ll show them a mother’s wrath.”
“Mom, Leafkit won’t let me talk to Sparrowsong!” Minkkit whined, trying to shove Leafkit away.
“We’re still talking!” Leafkit grunted.
“Both of you, make sure everyone has a turn!” Needlecall huffed, trudging over to the kits. Mountainleap watched the sky. If he led a meditation for the morning, he could sneak out and search for signs for Leafkit. He could make a quick announcement to everyone in camp and get out before—
“Mountainleap!” Brinestar called. He and Freckletuft stood outside his den, waiting for the seer. He smiled as genuinely as he could and padded into the leader’s den. Brinestar took his place sitting in his nest, with Freckletuft and Mountainleap sitting on either side of him.
“Here is the plan for the day,” Brinestar explained. “We have a counselor meeting with ElkClan in the mid-morning. Emberpool has asked us to restock on forest herbs as best we can. She is apparently experimenting with herbal mixtures for Torneye to better prevent her chronic infections.”
“If ElkClan is stubborn, I could tell Redburr he’s free to offer hunting rights on the other side of the river for the next moon,” Freckletuft added.
“If the counselors think that would be wise,” Brinestar sighed. “Let’s make sure to host a border patrol near where we found the foxes. I want to make sure they’re gone. Mountainleap, is there anything you would like to plan?”
“Just a morning meditation,” Mountainleap said, “for the… the story-keepers, yes. To bless their memories.”
“Bring along whomever you wish,” Brinestar decreed. “What did StarClan show in your dreams tonight?” Mountainleap hid a gulp. If he dreamt last night, he couldn’t remember anything. If he said he didn’t have a dream, Brinestar would worry SealClan lost the favor of their ancestors and ask for more rituals, which was the last thing Mountainleap wanted to do.
“I got chased by some fish while I was swimming,” Mountainleap chuckled, waving a paw around like he was dismissing himself.
“Should we be worried about fishing today?” Freckletuft asked.
“Sometimes a dream is just a dream,” Mountainleap quickly assured her. “I had a trout before I slept, so I dreamt of evil trout.”
“Freckletuft, if you’ll check with Lobsterspot later on and see which kits seem interested in the role of a counselor, I think we have the day prepared,” Brinestar yawned. “Send out a hunting patrol and we’ll be set.”
“Yes, Brinestar,” Freckletuft said with a respectful nod. She and Mountainleap left the den. The only kits still interested in the conversation with Sparrowsong were Mothkit and Leafkit. The others had gone back to playing with each other. Rabbitface and Jayleaf were nuzzling their kits, tickling their bellies with their noses and making them burst into laughter. Finkit chomped on his dad’s ear while Walruskit tried to shove Rabbitface away, giggling. Should Mountainleap invite Rabbitface to the meditation? She was a story-keeper, but she was busy with her kits. Ptarmiganflight groomed Gravelkit’s head, smiling.
“Ptarmiganflight,” Mountainleap called. Ptarmiganflight glanced up. Mountainleap approached the nursery. “I’m hosting a meditation for story-keepers this morning. You and the others are welcome to join me.”
“Where will it be?” Ptarmiganflight asked.
“The Stone Tree,” Mountainleap said, already heading out of camp. “I’ll be there when you arrive!” He didn’t wait around to tell the others. He trotted out of camp and into the quiet of the territory.
There were a few trees that littered SealClan, especially around the riverbanks, but Mountainleap didn’t have time to stop there. He couldn’t ditch the meditation now that he told others about it. He would find the time to sit once it was complete. The Stone Tree, with its faded red and white stripes and rough exterior, towered over the land. Mountainleap always knew he was safe when he saw the mighty tree. Why the humans made it, he could never guess, but what the humans abandoned would be the treasure of cats.
There was a large hole at the bottom of the tree where Mountainleap could slip inside. The Stone Tree was hollow, with strange paths snaking upwards through the air, clinging to the walls. A few holes in the tree’s bark cast dusty shadows everywhere. When Mountainleap stepped on the strange path, it rattled, echoing in the huge hollow. He continued up, unfazed by the shaking. StarClan protected him.
The top of the tree was a large circle with a shimmering crystal in the center. Surrounded by mysterious human contraptions, the Stone Tree’s eye, which once glowed in the night, was closed and dead. The light caught inside the crystal and cast rainbows everywhere. Mountainleap sat beside it, gaze caught by the shifting rainbows. He could feel StarClan watching him. The idea once comforted him, but now only guilt filled his chest.
“I’m sorry I ignored your message last moon,” Mountainleap prayed, closing his eyes. “Every day, I am faced with request after request, clanmates hoping for a message from you, a vision from Sun or prophecy from Moon. They do not understand that you are not always at work, that while you guide our pawsteps until we join you, you are enjoying eternal peace amongst the stars. Sun and Moon, you adore your kits yet require rest from our birth. My clan does not understand this. Please, teach them of your quiet and tell them to give me that quiet. Give me the time I need to find your signs and let them understand that you do not have something to say regarding every detail of life. Why can’t my clanmates understand that you allow life to pass without messages every day? They would never believe me. I cannot let them down. Please, I need your guidance.”
The path rattled below Mountainleap. The story-keepers were arriving. He glanced down the tree. Rabbitface and Sparrowsong walked together, giggling about something. Coaststorm shot a few of her usual insults at Coastbrook, who walked in the back with Flowerpaw. Ptarmiganflight and Salmonmask silently led the group, taking in the splendor of the Stone Tree. Mountainleap didn’t expect everyone to show up! The story-keepers gathered around the crystal, the sun warm within the tree.
“Glad to see so many of you could come!” Mountainleap laughed. “The whole situation with CliffClan and PuffinClan had me thinking about story-keepers and how important they are to the clan, so I figured, hey, let’s do a meditation! Help clear your memories, be the best story-keepers you can be, all of that. Get comfy, meditation isn’t fun if you’re sore. Close your eyes and go through your memories. Focus on every detail. You usually try not to think during meditation, but I thought we’d try something different.” Flowerpaw tucked herself into a loaf. Coaststorm and Coastbrook sat tall and still. Salmonmask stretched out while Rabbitface and Sparrowsong curled beside each other, with Ptarmiganflight settling his tail over his paws.
“How long is this going to take?” Coaststorm huffed.
“I’ll tell you when we’re finished,” Mountainleap stammered. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. He cracked one eye open to check everyone out. All the story-keepers had their eyes closed in meditation.
Even though Mountainleap was no story-keeper, he decided he might as well train his brain too. He drifted through his thoughts, searching for the memory that spoke with the most clarity. The memory he found didn’t speak. It screamed.
Shelltide’s screams of birth tore into his ears. Mountainleap’s claws stabbed the ground. Something else. He ran from the memory, thinking of nothing else until the screaming subsided. He glanced at Salmonmask. The cream and white molly seemed content. Mountainleap flinched, turning his face from her. Salmonmask wouldn’t have been born if Shelltide hadn’t broken the warrior code and left Mountainleap alone with an entire clan desperate to know StarClan wouldn’t leave them for Shelltide’s misdeeds.
A different memory then. His mother, Ivyheart. Clinging to her side at a Gathering rather than being with his mentor. She laughed and took him to see her ElkClan friends. So easygoing. Calm, never demanding more than Mountainleap could provide. Mountainleap clung to the memory and wouldn’t let go. The poppy seeds tried to coax him to sleep, but Mountainleap held on. He smiled a true smile. He’d keep the image of Ivyheart’s face in his mind for as long as he needed to recover and continue the day. Who cared what he saw in his dreams? He was a regular tom who still had normal dreams. There didn’t have to be meaning in everything.
He couldn’t stay there forever. He would have to end the meditation at some point. What requests would the story-keepers have for him? Mountainleap opened his eyes and stood.
“How was that?” Mountainleap asked. The story-keepers stretched and yawned, emerging from their meditations. Flowerpaw shook out her pelt.
“I really needed that,” Rabbitface sighed, smiling.
“Come now, Flowerpaw,” Coastbrook huffed, trotting to the path. “We have history to learn.” Flowerpaw dutifully followed her mentor out of the Stone Tree.
“Hey, Mountainleap,” Salmonmask asked as Coaststorm joined Ptarmiganflight for the walk down. “You know what dreams mean, right?”
“I interpret them,” Mountainleap groaned, already knowing where this was going.
“It’s just that…” Salmonmask muttered, fluffing and smoothing her fur in an effort to look comfortable, “I’ve been dreaming a lot about my mother lately.” Wait, this wasn’t just some dream of chasing butterflies? Mountainleap actually had to do something?
“What happens in the dream?” Mountainleap asked.
“Shelltide and I are standing in a big puddle of water,” Salmonmask explained. “She won’t stop screaming. No matter what I do, she screams like she’s being murdered. I’ve woken up in a panic three nights in a row. I’m exhausted. What should I do?” Mountainleap couldn’t make up an answer for this. He needed to actually solve this mystery. But he had to figure out Leafkit’s future before that!
“You could have eaten some bad fish,” Mountainleap scoffed. “But I promise I’ll figure out a way to help.”
“Thanks, Mountainleap,” Salmonmask sighed. She patted his shoulder and traveled down the path. Mountainleap waited before following. So much to do…
He took his time leaving the Stone Tree. By the time he reached the bottom of the hollow, everyone had left. He could head straight for the riverbanks and find leaves. He slipped out of the hole in the tree.
“Mountainleap!” someone called. Mountainleap looked around. Jayleaf was pacing by the Stone Tree, half frantic. Blood stained the bottom of his paws.
“Who died?” Mountainleap gulped, ears flattening.
“You need to see this,” Jayleaf stammered. He raced down the shore. Mountainleap bolted after him, horrible sights flying through his head. They were heading towards Seal Cove.
The cove was shaped like a paw, the sea stretching further into the territory below two cliffs. Large rocks jutted from the water. The smell of seals was thick.
Cuckoocloud and Beepelt were waiting for them, fear scent flowing. Mountainleap stopped beside them and looked into the cove. There was something on the shore. Jayleaf and Cuckoocloud led the seer towards the strange object.
It was a seal. Its gray speckled pelt was stained red. Blood tinted the water. It looked like a half-eaten fresh kill. Mountainleap shielded his eyes.
“Seals aren’t usually left like this,” Jayleaf explained, voice cracking with nerves. “This has to be an omen, right? What does it mean for SealClan?” An omen? Oh StarClan, why did they have to give him an omen? He peered over his paw at the seal’s body. Nothing came to him. How was nothing coming to him? He knew what it felt like for a sign to grace his presence, when his thoughts were clear with a message and his body relaxed. Why wasn’t he getting anything? Cuckoocloud and Beepelt were watching him, waiting for the terrible news.
“I think someone will die today,” Mountainleap guessed. He shouldn’t have to guess! He should know! What if that wasn’t what the sign meant, what if it meant something else? Beepelt gasped softly, chewing his own paw.
“I knew it,” Jayleaf spat, shaking his head. “Who?”
“I don’t know!” Mountainleap snapped. “I need time to think this through. Just, uh, don’t touch it, alright? And please don’t panic. I have this under control.” Mountainleap ran out of the cove, leaving the three panicked cats alone. Everyone was always interrupting him. He needed to go somewhere where he’d truly be alone. His paws dug into the sandy shores, kicking sand into his haunches. He leapt over the edge of streams and rivers. He took a sharp right and dove into the ocean.
The cool water fluffed Mountainleap’s fur out, tugging it with the tide. He swam down, bubbles trying to carry him to the surface. Fish scurried away. While some parts of the shore faded gently into deeper ocean, some revealed underwater cliffs, where diving into the water would send you plummeting into murky depths. The rocky wall of the shore seemed impenetrable, worn with years of tides and storms. Just as it seemed to get too deep, there was an opening in the stone. Mountainleap twisted and swam into the opening.
The rock closed in around him. Light vanished from the world. His lungs began to burn, but he could hold it in. There was just enough room to continue moving. There was no need to panic here. He knew he didn’t have to fear anything if he kept going.
Mountainleap’s head emerged from the water, gasping for breath. His voice echoed through the cave. Stalactites dangled overhead. Dark gray stone surrounded him on all sides. There was a hole in the ceiling to the surface, saving the cave from true darkness. Mountainleap climbed out of the water, the stone smooth and cool under his paws. He shook the loose water out of his pelt. There was a quiet that hung in the air that he could never find on the surface. He probably would have liked a life in the CliffClan tunnels. No one else would be in the War Cave. He could stay here for a while. At least until sunhigh.
Mountainleap slunk to the corner of the cave. The impressions of paws had worn their way through the stone over generations, tufts of loose fur floating in the still air. He curled up and started grooming the salt water off his pelt. He gave up after a few licks, when the water made him gag and cough. He pulled his paws over his head. The quiet was supposed to be helpful. Now it was filled with Mountainleap’s thoughts.
“Leafkit, Salmonmask, and the seal,” Mountainleap muttered. “What’s more important? Is the seal actually an omen if I didn’t get anything from it? How could it not be an omen? Is Shelltide haunting Salmonmask’s dreams? Should I say it’s her spirit, is it her spirit? I can’t focus, StarClan, I can’t focus!” His words echoed around the cave. “One thing at a time, one thing! At a time! Why is that so much to ask for?” His claws dug into his head. Why weren’t the poppy seeds working? He should have taken more. He stared at the hole in the roof.
“You’re so wise, Mountainleap,” he grumbled, standing. “You’ve done so much to help the clan. Would they say that if they knew how much I lie?” He paced around the War Cave. He imagined a group standing with him. Brinestar and Freckletuft, blank eyed, watching him for news. Shelltide, pregnant and fit to burst. Ivyheart, whose smile didn’t reach her orange eyes.
“You never told me how much was expected of seers,” Mountainleap hissed, padding around the imaginary figure of Shelltide. “You left me alone, you never told me what I had to do. Oh, I know all about StarClan, but what about SealClan?” He turned on Ivyheart. “I know more about ElkClan than how to handle my own clanmates. Whose fault is that, Mom? And you two!” He hissed at Brinestar and Freckletuft. “Stop thinking you know what my dreams mean. You don’t know how StarClan speaks, you aren’t the seers! I’m the seer!” The images of SealClan formed in his mind. Needlecall, Salmonmask, Leafkit, Emberpool, everyone. He could nearly feel their suffocating presence, questions itching to fly at him.
“Solve your own problems for once!” Mountainleap yowled.
“We’re sorry,” SealClan said. Mountainleap roared and jumped at Shelltide. But she wasn’t there. No one ever was. His claws scraped against the stone. He panted, fur shaking.
“This is how I cope, StarClan,” he whispered, getting cold. “I don’t need your advice, not for this.” He laughed, watching the stalactites. “You gave us counselors for a reason. Not my fault they can’t help me. No one in SealClan can. I’m not one of them.” Mountainleap shook his head and dove back into the water.
Mountainleap let the sun dry his pelt as he crossed the territory. He took his time crossing the rivers, finding stepping stones or tight curves he could leap over. The weather was cooler with the coming of autumn, leaving Mountainleap’s fur wet for most of the journey. Most of his thoughts sounded like a clan of bugs chirping on a warm summer night.
Redburr, Brackensplash, and Lobsterspot crossed a river in the center of the territory on their way to the ElkClan border, offerings of water voles and other prey in their jaws. Mountainleap stayed behind a tree until they passed. He stared at the leaves, a few thoughts sparking to life. He shook his head and continued on. He couldn’t focus on Leafkit’s future until he could focus on himself.
The terrain got steeper and rockier as Mountainleap got closer to the splattering of streams that formed the shifting border of CliffClan. Mountainleap hopped over the streams until he got to the last one, where CliffClan scent drifted in the wind. He closed his eyes.
“If you want to help me,” he whispered, “send Rollerfall to the border. Please.” A bird’s cry shot out overhead. A harrier flew across the border, brown wings spread wide. Rollerfall raced out from behind a rock, slowing as she approached the border. Her gaze was focused on the harrier. Her ears dropped in an annoyed frown. Mountainleap silently gave praise to StarClan. Rollerball fell into a coughing fit, nearly hacking a hairball into the water.
“Chasing a sign?” Montainleap asked. Rollerfall nodded, gaze not shifting until the harrier was out of sight. She cocked her head at Mountainleap.
“I was actually hoping you’d show up,” Mountainleap explained. “I was wondering if we could talk. Well, communicate.” Rollerfall rolled her eyes, but sat. “Sorry. How have things been in CliffClan? Any advice from StarClan on how to handle PuffinClan?”
Rollerfall held out a paw and shook it like a rolling tide; it was iffie. She hooked her tail; the situation was dangerous.
“I can imagine,” Mountainleap sighed. “Has Lynxshine not gotten anything?” Rollerfall once again shook her paw. Mountainleap wasn’t shocked. Even when seers got messages, they didn’t always relate to the current issue. Rollerfall nodded, gesturing for Mountainleap to share his thoughts.
“Nothing unique,” Mountainleap grumbled. “I wanted to ask you for advice. Ever since you were an apprentice, you’ve always seemed to have everything under control. You know how difficult it can be, caring for the clan’s connection to our ancestors. How do you handle it?” Rollerfall thought about the question for a moment.
“Watch,” she said. She leaned into the border stream. She dug out pebbles from the bottom of the stream, just about dunking her head in the process. She gathered the pebbles beside her, each one spread out. She plucked two out of the crowd; a blue pebble and a brown pebble. She scratched the blue pebble until she left a noticeable mark.
“Is that you?” Mountainleap asked. Rollerfall drew a circle in the dirt around the two lone pebbles. She drew a bigger circle connecting the lone rocks with the rest of the pebbles. Another circle connected the brown pebble to two others while the blue pebble was in a circle with multiple pebbles. When she was finished drawing in the dirt, Rollerfall waited for a response.
“I don’t understand,” Mountainleap huffed. Rollerfall put a paw by the lone pebbles.
“Alone,” she sighed, dragging her paw towards the other pebbles, “but together. Lynxshine’s siblings. My friends. One clan.” She coughed a bit, knocking a few pebbles aside.
“So even though being a seer is lonely,” Mountainleap muttered, “I can hold onto my relationships with my clanmates?” Rollerfall nodded, smiling. Mountainleap flicked his tail, annoyed. Maybe he could be closer to his clanmates if they saw him like a real cat.
“What do you do when you get stressed, though?” Mountainleap grunted. Rollerfall sighed. Mountainleap wasn’t trying to disappoint her, but being a SealClan seer wasn’t the same as being a CliffClan seer, even if they did the same things. There were different expectations of him than of Rollerfall, especially since there were two of her and one of him. How could the younger seer understand?
“Grounding,” Rollerfall explained. She rubbed a paw into the ground. Her ears twitched, focusing on the hum of the ocean and the whistle of wind against the cliffs. She licked her lips. “Sight, taste, touch, hearing, scent.” She overemphasized her breathing, lifting her tail as she inhaled and exhaled slowly. Did she want Mountainleap to copy her? He obeyed, taking a deep breath. He didn’t realize how fast his breathing had been until his body groaned, finally given enough air. The grass was hard that day. It made his paws itch. He was still damp from his swim. Those sensations were real things. With a grumble from his stomach, he realized he hadn’t eaten all day. He should really get something to eat before sunhigh.
“Thank you, Rollerfall,” Mountainleap sighed. Maybe if he did this little ritual, he could focus on the requests of the day. He could get something to eat and finally hunt for signs about Leafkit. Rollerfall reached across the stream and touched Mountainleap’s chest. Her eyes asked the question her throat could not.
“I’m okay,” Mountainleap said. “I’ve been stressed lately. If I find any signs to help you, I’ll let you know. I’ll see you at the meeting in a few days, right?” Rollerfall nodded. “Give Lynxshine my well wishes.” With a friendly lick to Rollerfall’s outstretched paw, Mountainleap turned back towards SealClan camp. Unbeknownst to him, Rollerfall stayed by the border, watching him jump across rivers. She shook her head and slipped into a nearby tunnel.
SealClan wasn’t in the quiet state of mid-morning grooming and kit wrangling Mountainleap had expected to find. Instead, Wrenlight, Podpaw, and Sappelt picked fish out of the fresh kill hole, carefully hidden under a bush, and carried it to the edge of the cliff. They dropped the fish into the rocks and water below before going back for more. Brinestar watched them go from the Highrock, nodding along.
“What are you doing?” Mountainleap gasped, racing up to Podpaw. “You’re wasting prey!”
“Brinestar’s orders,” Podpaw explained. He slipped past the seer to grab one of the last fish in the slowly shrinking fresh kill hole. Mountainleap turned on Brinestar.
“This is no random waste, Mountainleap,” Brinestar assured him. “You said there was bad fish in your dreams. Antlerkit got sick from eating a cod while you were out. Had we followed your dream earlier, we could have prevented that.” Mountainleap dug his paws into the ground and thought of every piece of dirt rubbing into his paw pads, all in an effort to not scream. They were wasting prey on a false dream! Now that would be something StarClan would disapprove of!
“I see,” Mountainleap said through gritted teeth. “Well, congratulations. The fish should be fine now.”
“Will you bless the fresh kill hole?” Brinestar asked. “I want to make sure the sickness is gone before anyone else eats.”
“Of course,” Mountainleap said, jaw clenching harder. He trudged to the holy den, where Antlerkit was curled around his stomach, groaning while Emberpool gently rubbed his back. Mountainleap ignored the sick kit and grabbed a piece of moss. He would have to go all the way back to the shore, dip the moss in saltwater, and come back to squeeze it over the fresh kill and bless the prey. Why did he think he would be able to eat in peace?
Mountainleap sat between the holy den and the elder’s den, a vole between his paws. He’d walked from one side of the shore to the other and it wasn’t even sunhigh yet. He was more than ready for a nap. A secret one, so no one thought to ask if he had a dream from StarClan. He’d only been asked that a few times in the past few moons of naps, but that day seemed like a day of requests. He ate slowly, grooming his pelt and savoring each bite while he watched his clan.
Nearby, Gravelkit and Leafkit stalked one another like hunters. They wiggled their flanks in the air, waiting for the first kit to pounce. They flew at each other and collided mid-air. They rolled across the grass until Gravelkit was firmly above Leafkit, paws pinning his shoulders.
“I win!” Gravelkit cheered. “Now I get Torneye and Antlerkit’s nest when Antlerkit goes to StarClan!” Montainleap just about choked.
“Aw, no fair!” Leafkit huffed. “Best two out of three.”
“I’m sorry, couldn’t help but hear you,” Lobsterspot stood above the kits, smiling in that ay adults did when their kits said something eerily odd. “Gravelkit, Leafkit, do you think Antlerkit’s going to StarClan?” Good, Mountainleap wouldn’t have to deal with it.
“Well someone is,” Gravelkit said, hopping off Leafkit. From his tone, it was clear he didn’t understand what that meant.
“What do you mean by that?” Lobsterspot laughed, flashing Mountainleap a look that said “What in StarClan?”
“Jayleaf told Rabbitface who told the other queens who told us that they found a dead seal and Mountainleap said it means someone is going to StarClan,” Leafkit explained in one long breath. “Antlerkit’s sick, so he’s probably the one.”
“It’s just a stomachache, I promise,” Lobsterspot huffed. He nosed the kits towards the nursery. “Head back to your mothers and don’t mess with Antlerkit’s nest.”
“Then who’s going to StarClan?” Gravelkit groaned, trying to push against Lobsterspot.
“We’re still playing!” Leafkit whined.
“See if the story-keepers can tell you a tale,” Lobsterspot suggested. He gave one last push and the two toms stumbled into the nursery. As they grumbled, Lobsterspot made eye contact with Mountainleap. Mountainleap closed his eyes and finished his vole. He grabbed the remains and tossed them over the cliff. He watched them break apart on the rocks below. He turned and slipped into the holy den with blank eyes, avoiding Lobsterspot’s gaze.
Ginger fur bumped into his chest. Emberpool yelped, stepping back and blinking wildly. She shook her head out and focused. She smiled when she realized who she bumped into.
“Mountainleap, I’m glad I ran into you,” Emberpool chuckled. “Though I wasn’t expecting to literally run into you.”
“Do you need something?” Mountainleap groaned. He stuck his paw under the fish skull Emberpool had given him a few days before. It was a nice thought, but random skulls were more trinkets than signs. Mountainleap didn’t have the heart to get rid of it, though.
“Just your company, if you have the time,” Emberpool sighed. “I finally got Antlerkit to sleep, but I’m stepping out to gather more herbs for his stomach. Everlasting, wormwood, marsh-orchid, whatever we can find. Most likely won’t use them all, but Cloudstripe taught me to always be prepared.” Emberpool glanced at the sleeping kit. Antlerkit was still curled around his belly, and he didn’t seem to sleep peacefully, but at least he was asleep. The poor kit broke through some of Mountainleap’s exhaustion.
“I’ll accompany you,” Mountainleap promised. Emberpool purred softly and trotted around him. Mountainleap shook life into his body and followed.
“Now that I’m thinking about it, we could find some sturdy reeds too,” Emberpool noted, tail casually waving as Redburr’s patrol returned with the herbs from ElkClan. “You know where to put those, Redburr! Back to the reeds, the barrier keeping the nursery safe from the cliff’s edge seems weak. I think the kits have been playing with it.”
“More reeds, then,” Mountainleap agreed. “There are plenty by Lover’s River.”
“Let’s swim through the Crossing Stream,” Emberpool suggested with a smile, hopping towards Camp Stream. Mountainleap stayed out of the water, instead balancing on stones that stuck out of the stream, but Emberpool let herself get wet. She waded through Camp Stream and hurried on towards Dapplestream River. Emberpool was older than Mountainleap, but she seemed to have the energy of an apprentice.
The Crossing Stream flowed out of Dapplestream River and into Lover’s River, which flowed towards the ocean. The stream was thick enough that day that Emberpool let the current carry her all the way to Lover’s River. Mountainleap had to jog to keep up. When they arrived at the plant speckled banks of Lover’s River, Emberpool crawled out of the water. She shook out her pelt and sat beside the reeds, pulling them out with her teeth. Mountainleap sat close by and copied her. They formed a growing pile of fresh reeds between them.
“He’ll be fine when I say he’s fine,” Emberpool muttered.
“Did you say something?” Mountainleap asked with a reed in his mouth.
“I was talking to myself,” Emberpool admitted. “Since Antlerkit got sick, I’ve had no less than five cats come into the holy den asking about him. While I don’t refuse worried families, someone’s worked Torneye into a wreck. She heard a rumor that StarClan prophesized her kit’s death this morning.” Mountainleap’s pelt prickled. “It’s a simple stomach ache. I swear sometimes our clan gets worked up about the simplest things. When Torneye gets stressed, she messes with her eye and it almost always gets infected. No matter how many times I told her Antlerkit was fine, she wouldn’t calm down. Needlecall had to give Alderfeather her kits to try and comfort Torneye.”
“That’s my fault,” Mountainleap sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Jayleaf doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”
“If you got a sign from StarClan, there’s no shame in sharing,” Emberpool assured him, putting her tail on his back. “This may be heretical, but I don’t see visions or signs as set in stone. I see it more as advice.” Emberpool reached for another reed.
“The thing is,” Mountainleap groaned, guilt crawling up his throat, “it wasn’t from StarClan. I saw the dead seal and I made something up.” Emberpool jutted back.
“Mountainleap!” Emberpool gasped, eyes wide. “You faked a sign?”
“I didn’t fake anything!” Mountainleap snapped, spitting out another reed. “The seal did die! But I didn’t get a sign, and I knew if I said I didn’t sense anything the clan would freak out even more. Not everything is a sign!”
“Then why say someone will die today?” Emberpool huffed. She stepped on the reeds to get closer.
“I panicked!” Mountianleap hissed. “I’ve been stressed, it’s the only thing that made sense. I’m supposed to have the answers about this sort of stuff.”
“You need to tell SealClan,” Emberpool grunted. “You don’t have to confess to lying, just say you misread the omen. Say it was connected to the bad fish.” If Emberpool freaked out about the dead seal, Mountainleap wasn’t about to admit to the fake dreams. Emberpool got in front of him, standing in the reeds and water. “I’m serious, Mountainleap. Torneye is terrified.”
“I wasn’t trying to worry anyone,” Mountainleap grunted. “I’ll fix my mistake, I promise. I just needed some time to think things through.” He poked at the pile of reeds. “Herb collecting is rather soothing.”
“That’s what I try to tell our clanmates,” Emberpool sighed, a smile slowly replacing her stern frown. “They tend to get bored.” She slipped out of the reeds to sit on Mountainleap’s left, placing a paw on his shoulder. “If you need a chance to unwind, you can talk to someone. I’m always around to lend an ear.”
“The counselors expect the same out of me as the rest of the clan,” Mountainleap groaned. “Every time I try to talk to them, I end up comforting them and insisting that no, I’m not stressed because StarClan is making me stressed, I’m stressed because every cat is breathing down my back all the time!” He clawed at the reeds. A few fell into the water and started the long float to the ocean.
“I’m in a similar position when someone’s hurt,” Emberpool added with a chuckle. “If anyone can understand you, it would be me.”
“If you say so,” Mountainleap hummed. Emberpool rubbed against his shoulder. Mountainleap relaxed his tense shoulders. Would Emberpool be different? She had never bothered Mountainleap with requests for signs or omens. Her favors were always practical; herb collection, an extra set of paws to stop bleeding. Mountainleap could use some practicality.
“You know,” Emberpool purred, moving away, “when my brother talks to our clanmates, he likes to share his own struggles to make them feel less isolated. Maybe an example could give you some insight?”
“I guess,” Mountainleap muttered, not entirely convinced.
“There’s so much work that goes into each role,” Emberpool sighed, kneading the soft riverbank. “We each experience a type of stress that other positions couldn’t understand. Just as you’re always worried about what StarClan wants, I’m always worried about the health of our clanmates. I’m not a counselor, but sometimes our roles overlap and I become involved with the ghosts of our clan. Every few days, when I check over my herbs for the night, I find that I have less poppy seeds than I had before. Poppy seeds I never used. I’m worried Brinestar’s leaf love has come back.” Mountainleap’s back claws scratched underneath him.
“You’re not asking for a sign, right?” Mountainleap gulped.
“No,” Emberpool said. “I only said that so you could get some perspective. You’re not alone.”
“Thank, Emberpool,” Mountainleap sighed with a tired smile. “I hope everthing works out. Do uh, do you think this is enough reeds?”
“It’s as many as one cat can carry,” Emberpool huffed, pacing around the reed pile. “If I still want to get my herbs, we’ll have to stop.”
“What should I look for?” Mountainleap asked.
“You watch over the reeds,” Emberpool advised, scanning the riverbank. “I’ll find what I need.” She followed the river upstream, tail brushing the reeds.
There was a small patch of alder trees growing to Mountainleap’s left. The seer gathered all the reeds and dragged them into the shade of the trees. He plopped his head on the pile like a makeshift nest. The river gurgled in front of him. For the first time all day, Mountainleap’s duties didn’t weigh on him. He could be a regular cat resting in the shade.
A gust of wind knocked a leaf out of the alder tree. It swirled and tumbled through the air. Mountainleap watched like a mesmerized kit. The colors shimmered in the light. The leaf landed in Lover’s River and began a long, slow float towards the ocean. Mountainleap smiled, truly and deeply. Finally. A moment of rest led to the answers he needed. Leafkit would be just fine.
Salmonmask’s dream slipped through his thoughts as he gazed lazily at the river. There was no big threat there, he realized. He could present Salmonmask with a simple solution once he got back to camp. He’d calm the clan’s worries about the dead seal, and the second half of his day would hopefully be smoother. He would take a nap, search for a true prophetic dream. If he didn’t get too many called in favors or requests, he could try to visit Spiderstorm and share his revelations. The younger seer shared so many of Mountainleap’s anxieties, maybe he could finally step up as one of the older clan seers and help his friends. After all, only Archpelt was older than him. He could do it.
Emberpool trotted to Mountainleap’s side with a bundle of everlasting and mallow leaves Mountainleap stretched and yawned before gathering up the reeds. It was nearly sunhigh. Mountainleap would need to get back for the sunhigh prayer. Emberpool purred as she trailed Mountainleap across the territory.
As was typical for sunhigh, most of the clan was at camp when Emberpool and Mountainleap returned. Only a few cats were picking the freshly caught fish out of the fresh kill hole. Eyes followed Mountainleap, waiting for the prayer and the approval for their meal, but Mountainleap waved his tail. He had a few things to do.
He put the reeds at the back of the holy den while Emberpool sorted her fresh herbs. Mountainleap snagged a few mushrooms from their tiny pile, collected from CliffClan. He carried the mushrooms out and looked for Salmonmask. The story-keeper was sitting by Redburr and Brackensplash with a small fish, while the newly declared mates shared a trout. Mountainleap hurried over, the impatience of his clan beginning to fill the air.
“Put these in your nest tonight, Salmonmask,” Mountainleap advised, dropping the mushrooms in front of her. “Mushrooms help ward off bad dreams. You have nothing to fear.” Salmonmask smiled, relief sparking in her gaze. The seer now searched for Needlecall. As he expected, she was by the nursery with her squirming kits.
“Leafkit will be just fine, Needlecall!” Mountainleap declared as he jumped onto Highrock. Needlecall purred and pulled Leafkit close, as the young kit was looking around, trying to understand why the seer said his name. Mountainleap stood at the tip of Highrock.
“I know you’re all ready to eat,” Mountainleap called, “but I wanted to clarify something before our prayer. I know you’re worried about the dead seal we found at Seal Cove. I give you my assurance that my initial belief on its meaning was wrong. Your friends and family are safe today.” The most superstitious clan cats relaxed, whispering to one another as ease filled the camp. “Now, let’s give thanks to StarClan for this meal.” SealClan bowed their heads towards Highrock. The ancient words of the sunhigh prayer slipped out of Mountainleap’s mouth. “StarClan bless our hunters. Bless our mother cats, bless those young and old. Bless our leader, our deputy, our healers and seers. Bless this meal eaten in the full glory of Sun and bless the night ahead.”
“Praise StarClan,” SealClan said in unison. The spiritual, quiet atmosphere broke apart as the clan began to eat. Antlerkit stumbled out of the holy den, his strange walk shakier than usual, but he didn’t seem so nauseous. Torneye hurried to her son’s side and scooped him up, purring. Emberpool watched her patient leave with a proud smile.
Mountainleap crawled off the Highrock. He nodded at Brinestar and Freckletuft, who ate in front of the leader’s den. He trudged into the holy den.
“You aren’t eating?” Emberpool asked, head cocked slightly. Mountainleap shook his head and plopped into his nest. With everyone distracted with their meal, he could finally sleep.
Mountainleap floated on the border between sleep and consciousness. The sounds of the clan were muted and his senses were fuzzy. His thoughts drifted into smoky silhouettes of cats and trees before shifting to match his newest thought.
Someone stepped into the holy den. Mountainleap was suddenly awake, heart squeezing with the shock of waking up. He shook out the remnants of his nap to see who disturbed him. Sappelt and Sprucefoot were gathering up the reeds he had dumped at the back of the den.
“Sorry to wake you, Mountainleap,” Sprucefoot chuckled. “Freckletuft’s asked us to support the wall behind the nursery. I hope we didn’t interrupt a message from StarClan.”
“You’re alright,” Mountainleap yawned. “I never got that far. How long have I been asleep?”
“Not too long,” Sappelt assured him. “I think Coastbrook wants your help testing Flowerpaw on something.” Mountainleap nodded. One problem at a time was just how he liked to work. He headed into camp.
Coastbrook and Flowerpaw sat outside the apprentice’s den. From the way they watched Mountainleap, they were expecting him. Mountainleap took his time joining them as Sprucefoot and Sappelt headed to the nursery wall.
“Mountainleap, I thought you would be better at testing Flowerpaw on this than I,” Coastbrook explained. “She has memorized a vast variety of prophecies from our clan’s history. Can you test her knowledge?”
“Sure,” Mountainleap chirped, sitting. “Let’s start with an easy one. Who received the prophecy ‘The twilight will obscure all knowledge,’ and what did it mean?”
“Buzzardfang the story-keeper,” Flowerpaw explained without hesitation. “It referred to the Foaming Madness the story-keepers of SealClan would contract from a night time skirmish with a loner. Buzzardfang informed the healer who was able to prevent the disease from spreading beyond two story-keepers.”
“Alright,” Mountainleap hummed. A shiver ran down his back, but he shook it out. “What about this? How did Herringstar respond to the prophesized murder of Cottonshade?”
“She set up a guard outside the nursery at all times and banned Cottonshade from leaving camp,” Flowerpaw declared.
“Cottonshade was allowed to leave camp, but only if Herringstar or her deputy escorted her,” Mountainleap corrected.
“Not that she would want to,” Coastbrook sighed, rolling onto her back. “She was pregnant at the time, I believe.” Another shiver rattled through Mountainleap’s body, a sensation that felt like someone was squeezing his head.
“Are you okay?” Flowerpaw asked.
“Just got cold,” Mountainleap muttered. “Uh… what was the prophecy that pushed Herringstar to execute Yarrowfeather?”
“Without blood in the water,” Flowerpaw said, face scrunched in thought, “the trees will fall.” It wasn’t a shiver this time. No, this time it felt like someone was taking a claw down Mountainleap’s spine. He spun around, looking for someone he knew wasn’t there.
“What’s wrong?” Coastbrook asked. Something glimmered in the corner of Mountainleap’s eye.
Sappelt and Sprucefoot were at the wall that blocked the nursery from the edge of the cliff. Sprucefoot had his front paws on the top of the wall, weaving reeds into the structure. Two brown toms, their white dappled chests covered in stars, floated overhead. Barkfrost and Owlstep. Sprucefoot’s brother and father.
“Sprucefoot, step back, now!” Mountainleap yowled, racing across camp. Sprucefoot and Sappelt froze, confused. A loud crack shot out under Sprucefoot. The ground below him tore away from the cliff, dirt crumbling under the weight of the mates. Part of the reed wall, and Sprucefoot with it, slipped off the edge of the cliff.
“Sprucefoot!” Sappelt screeched. Mountainleap skidded to a stop beside her. He watched as Sprucefoot tumbled into the barnacle crusted rocks below the cliff. Rabbitface, who was grooming Finkit, wailed, frozen with her paws wrapped around her son.
“Emberpool, hurry!” Mountainleap screamed, racing out of camp. Emberpool, who was replacing the moss in Torneye’s socket, was already bolting into the holy den for cobwebs. Kitefall ran out of the elder’s den, ears flat. Jayleaf ran into Rabbitface and scooped up Finkit.
“Go to him, I’ve got Finkit,” he stammered, carrying his son into the nursery. Rabbitface, Kitefall, and Sparrowsong, who stumbled out of the story-keeper’s den, joined Sappelt on her frantic race to the bottom of the cliff.
Mountainleap spun around the edge of the cliff, where it began to stretch into the sky and form a harsh rock wall above the sea. Sprucefoot laid at the edge of Camp Stream, tail dipped into the water where it blended with the sea. Mountainleap ran along the stream and had to jump over Sprucefoot to stop his momentum in time. Blood splattered the ground under him. The splash of white running up his muzzle was stained red. His eyes were dull, frozen in a moment of panic without the emotion. Broken reeds laid around him, fluttering in the wind.
Mountainleap turned his back to Sprucefoot, eyes squeezed shut. Sappelt’s scream of terror was like a bite to the neck. Mountainleap’s breathing picked up as the mollies wailed and yowled in horror and sudden, overwhelming grief. He tried to block out their terrified pleas for Sprucefoot to recognize them, to stand up, to be okay. He didn’t want to hear Emberpool say there was nothing she could do. This couldn’t be happening. There was one thing he couldn’t stop from piercing his memory.
“You said it wasn’t an omen!” Sappelt sobbed. “You said we would be fine!” Mountainleap opened his eyes to stare across the ocean. Three star-speckled brown toms stood on the water, watching. A splash of stardust covered Sprucefoot’s famous white spot just where the blood stained his body.
If Redburr hadn’t ordered the clan to stay out of the holy den and leave Mountainleap alone… he didn’t know what he would have done.
It was nearly sunset by then, and Sprucefoot’s body had been cleaned to the best of Emberpool’s ability. She had tucked a leaf into Sprucefoot’s fur, a symbol of his namesake. Watermint smoothed his pelt and hid the stench of death. He laid below the Highrock with closed eyes. SealClan gathered around him in sobbing silence.
Jayleaf stayed with Walruskit and Finkit, watching over them as Rabbitface cried. Magpieflower pressed herself into Sappelt; after all, she’d been in nearly the exact same position when Barkfrost died, with the same family. Lobsterspot slipped between Sprucefoot’s sisters and mother, offering what few words he could and all the time they needed to find comfort in him. Antlerkit did his best to explain things to Needlecall’s kits, too young to remember Barkfrost’s passing. Brinestar watched grimly from his den as Freckletuft stared at the hole in the reed wall.
That’s what Mountainleap imagined they were doing, at least. He’d barely been able to recite the proper words to begin the vigil before he had to race into the holy den. Redburr stood outside like a diligent guard, quiet to Mountainleap’s panic. The seer kept his back to the clan.
He shouldn’t have said anything during the sunhigh prayer. The clan’s paranoia would have kept Sprucefoot safe. Why did he have to lie about everything? He misinterpreted the signs of StarClan and a warrior was dead. It was pointless. SealClan looked to him for guidance, he let them down. Why did he relax? Mountainleap’s claws found the familiar spots on his head where they dug in earlier that day, trying to let out the pressure. He wanted to scream. He wanted to wail. But how would SealClan react to such a breakdown?
“For the love of StarClan, Redburr, why aren’t you helping him?” he heard Emberpool hiss behind him.
“Em…” Redburr sighed.
“He’s still a clanmate, no matter what he does for us,” Emberpool whispered. “If you’re too worried about StarClan’s will to help him, then I’ll do it.” That was the problem. Even though Redburr would keep the clan from bothering him, he couldn’t even step inside and offer a word of advice. Mountainleap was supposed to be above that. How could Redburr ever hope to comfort the tom that was as close to StarClan as the living could get?
Teeth gently wrapped around his paw. Emberpool lifted Mountainleap’s paw off his head and set it beside him. She shoved the other off. Mountainleap closed his eyes as Emberpool walked in front of him into her alcove of herbs. She shuffled about before eventually settling on something. She dropped this something in front of Mountainleap.
“It’s thyme,” Emberpool muttered. “Could you please chew it?” Mountainleap opened his eyes and checked that the herb was truly what Emberpool offered. He scooped up the leaves and began to chew. Emberpool laid beside him, almost sitting in his nest. She pressed hard against his back. She put her paw over his.
“Talk to me,” Emberpool begged. Mountainleap’s claws scratched at the moss.
“I never got a message from StarClan about death,” Mountainleap said, voice broken, “because any cat with half a thought would know a dead seal means bad things. You said it yourself, a sign isn’t set in stone. I could have stopped this.”
“I have a habit of saying the right thing at the wrong time,” Emberpool admitted. “If it wasn’t Sprucefoot, it would have been me, or a kit, StarClan forbid. That portion of the cliff was worn. It was going to kill whoever made the repairs.”
“I am the seer,” Mountainleap snapped through the guilt. “I see these things before they happen and I help the clan. I literally see the future, Emberpool!”
“And I’m supposed to stop cats from dying. Doesn’t mean we don’t fail.”
“I’m not supposed to fail, I am the star-forsaken seer! I’m not supposed to let up, I’m not supposed to rest, I need to tell SealClan what they cannot see. I was born to serve them.” Mountainleap’s paw moved back to his head, but Emberpool batted it away.
“Mountainleap, is this what you’ve been thinking all this time?”
“When I fail, the entire clan gets sent into a panic, cut off from our ancestors. They fear for their very souls every time I say I don’t know.” Mountainleap glared at Emberpool, finally looking the exhausted molly over. “Is it any wonder I steal poppy seeds to get through the day?”
“That’s you?” Emberpool gasped.
“They blame me, I heard them.” It takes all of Mountainleap’s strength to keep his paws down. “Sappelt thinks I caused Sprucefoot’s death. Everyone says I let their guard down when there was still a threat.” Emberpool rested her head on Mountainleap’s head.
“If our counselors are too cowardly to help you,” Emberpool whispered, “I’ll do it. I’m going to make this whole clan see how they hurt you. I’m going to make them understand.”
“It’s not our place,” Mountainleap whined, utterly dejected.
“Too bad,” Emberpool snorted softly. “I was named Emberpool for my careful planning. Here’s a sign from StarClan for you. I was named Emberpool because you need a careful, strategic patient plan. You can look out for the clan and I’ll look out for you.” Mountainleap buried his face into Emberpool like a kit. He had a duty to uphold to the clan, but maybe things would be better with someone else upholding their duty to him.