Chapter 2
There, right in the middle of the clearing, lay Petal. Her body was broken and bloody, with blood still pouring out of a wound that ran all along her side.
Oh, no! Stream thought. No! It can't be! She bounded to Petal's side. "Petal? Petal, wake up!" Please, don't let her be dead!
Petal lifted her head, gazing at Stream with eyes full of sorrow. "Stream . . . . I-I'll always be your friend," she choked out. "Of course you will! Because we're going to live forever with each other!" "Stream, don't be ridiculous. There is no hope for me . . . ." Petal's head fell back down. "Stream . . . . don't forget . . . . what I have to tell you." Stream bent down, for she could now barely hear her dying friend. "The roaring tiger is no match for the fast flowing stream and the glittering stars."
Then her eyes closed for the last time, and her head sunk back down. Her sides were still, and her body was cold.
Stream pressed her head into her friend's fur. "Go to a happy place, my friend, and have a peaceful journey there."
Stream headed back to her house, blinking in the glare of the setting sun. She had just got done burying Petal, and she was exhausted. Her head spun with grief and anger. She wished she new who had killed her best friend. If she knew, she would have spent the rest of her life tracking it down and ripping it's fur off.
But all the time she had spent burying Petal, she had been trying to figure out what Petal's last words meant. She had no idea at all, except that the 'fast flowing stream' probably meant Stream herself. But if so, then who were the roaring tiger and the glittering stars?
She kept muttering to herself all the way back to her house. When she got there, she went straight past her food bowl and to her cat bed. She was to grief-stricken and tired to eat, and all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep. So she did.
Stream found herself in the clearing where Petal had died. How did I get here? Then she saw a familiar calico shape sitting on a rock, staring at her. "Petal! Oh, Petal I was so worried about you! Are you all right?" To her surprise, Petal's ocean blue eyes held no welcome or warm greeting in them. Instead, her eyes were dark and shadowed.
"Petal? Petal, what's wrong?" Stream asked. "Can you tell me more about your last words to me?" "No, I'm afraid I can not." Petal finally spoke, though her voice was almost unrecognizable, filled as it was with shadow. "You must figure it out for yourself, and there are troubling times ahead for you." "What?!" Stream could not understand. Why would there be troubling times ahead, if she would always be comfortable in her housefolk's home?
Petal, seeming to read her thoughts, said. "No, you will not. You must leave your housefolk's nest and go on a terrible journey." Stream stared in shock, as Petal went on. "You must travel a long ways, through rain and sun and moon, facing dangers from all sides. You must watch who you trust, and, Stream, do not forget the prophecy. But," she went on, interrupting Stream as she tried to talk. "I can tell you this. The greatest danger of all is at the very end of your journey. The stars will guide you throughout."
What? The stars? A journey? A prophecy? About me? Stream's head spun so much about what Petal had said, that she hardly noticed that her friend was disappearing, so that Stream could now see through her. "Petal, wait! Don't go! I need your help!"
She could just barely heard the whispered words, "Don't forget the prophecy . . ."