Trickpaw blinked. "What did you say, Sunpaw?" he asked.
"That's the next line," the other ginger cat replied. "That's the gold beam. We have to follow it."
"What comes next?" Promisepaw asked, having recovered from her shock.
"Don't be disheartened if you're out of luck...Remember your cause and fight your way through."
Trickpaw nodded. He could still hear his mother's soft, melodious voice as she sang them the song. It soothed his shattered heart. But he caught sight of Promisepaw, and his heart broke again. Now she hated him. He had lost her, never to get her back.
"Does it go any further than that? That's not too helpful," Shadowpaw muttered.
Sunpaw scratched behind his ear thoughtfully. He cast Trickpaw a pleading glance. Trickpaw shook his head slightly. If he stole Sunpaw's lines, Shadowpaw would hate him for pushing aside her love, and Promisepaw would find him a show-off. Sunpaw sighed inaudibly.
"It doesn't give us any more directions...other than we're going past Bearplace and Houndplace."
"What are bears and hounds?" Trickpaw murmured.
"Hounds? We know of hounds." Stone-Moss-Yis perched on its hind paws to come eye-to-eye with Trickpaw. "Nasty, slobbery creatures. Like dogs. Big, big dogs. Nastier, though. Drooly and loud. We know where to find them. Houndplace is many nights that way." It pointed out the window in the exact direction the beam of gold light pointed.
"Do you know of a creature called Moonchild?" Promisepaw asked. "We're supposed to find her."
To their surprise, the weasel nodded its head. "We know of her. Strange beast, she is. But gentle and kind. Yis. You will like her."
Trickpaw stepped forward. His heart fell as he saw Promisepaw make a sleek movement. To the common eye, it appeared that she had turned away to take care of some personal grooming. However, Trickpaw saw the icy glint in her eyes and knew she was turning away from him. He steeled himself. "Can you tell us how to get to her?" he asked.
"Yis." The weasel slipped up to the windowledge, motioning for the curious Trickpaw to follow its lead. The ginger tom stepped up onto the sill. "You must follow the path...difficult, because it will be snow-covered. Perhaps this is the way you must fight through." It nodded. "Yis. You must have courage...believe in what you can do as one...And remember that only you can save your family, yis."
Trickpaw fell silent. He knew that there was no getting Stone-Moss-Yis to say anything more. What a strange creature...and yet, so intelligent. I'll miss...it.
Sunpaw nodded. "Yes...thank you for that, friend," he meowed. "If we get the chance, we'll visit you again."
"We'll only let you stay for mice!" the weasel sang gleefully. "Lots and lots of mice, yis!"
Trickpaw turned back to his friends. Shadowpaw was giving him a frosty glare, while Promisepaw was bending over Wavepaw. Trickpaw felt he should be doing something to help; Promisepaw looked very harassed and tired, and in need of warm fur pressing against her side. He stopped with one paw in the air. No. She hadn't forgiven him yet. How could he have said something so mouse-brained? Sunpaw rubbed his tail along Trickpaw's shoulder, attracting the tom's attention.
"Give her time to cool down," he murmured. "I'll admit, what you said didn't hurt as much as how you said it. But she knows you love her, and in time, she'll go back to you. But let her go to you when she's ready." Trickpaw nodded. "Why don't you grab a bite of fresh-kill and a quick nap? If any cat tries to say something bad, I'll cover for you."
Trickpaw nodded gratefully, grabbing a small vole to ease his hungry stomach. He curled up in a pile of soft hay to sleep. The ginger tom sunk his fangs into the fresh-kill tiredly. He could recall his first days in the forest, when every new piece of prey sent him on a new journey. Mice were sweet, rabbits had a bit of a dull flavor, birds were airy and barely a mouthful once you got past the feathers...He sighed. All this thinking about food was making him even hungrier. He finished the vole quickly and settled his head on his paws.
As his eyes closed, Trickpaw's mind summoned a faint memory of his mother. He could not see her face, but her voice and scent surrounded him fully, wrapping him in the gentle embrace of kithood. The vibrations of her meow filled his ears and brought him back to his days under her care.
"Remember, my kits...if you ever find the Moonchild, you must be willing to part with something...Something important: a sign of your loyalty and courage. Can you give her what she wants?"
A sign of our courage, Trickpaw mused drowsily. What could we possibly have to offer? Courage is something that cannot be touched or carried. How can we present her with what she wants? Dark clouds of sleep rolled over his mind, blocking out the light of alertness, and sending the young cat into a deep dream.
He was running through the forest, near his old Twoleg nest. He sniffed, and the odors of his old and new lives mingled into one soothing scent of home. Trickpaw felt his tense body relax. He knew where he was. Everything was familiar to him now. He looked up into the sky, wondering faintly if it was night or day. His eyes stretched wide in shock.
Silverpelt hovered down closer, each star breaking away and becoming an astral cat. Trickpaw looked from warrior to warrior, his mouth agape. Why was StarClan appearing to him? One cat broke away from the throng and padded up to the startled tomcat. Trickpaw shivered as he recognized a cat who he thought he'd never see again.
"Mother..." he mewed softly, like a thirsty kit longing for something to drink. Kenya nodded, her purr filling the world with bliss. Trickpaw ran to her side, mewing and rubbing his mother's starry body shamelessly. Kenya allowed him to greet her, then stepped back.
"You are safe here, my son," she meowed.
"Are we ever in danger in our dreams?" Trickpaw asked curiously. Kenya motioned for him to follow behind her, and led him to a rise. Only then did Trickpaw truly hear the horrible yowls and snarls of cats grappling fiercely with unknown beasts. His hackles rose.
"No. No cat is in danger here," Kenya replied at length. "But cats will be in the waking world. When you are faced with difficult choices, follow your heart. It will never lead you wrong." The tortoiseshell turned to face her son. Her formerly dark eyes were lighter, it seemed, shining with the light of the stars. Trickpaw nodded.
"But Mother...if you are in StarClan...does that mean you..."
"Yes." Kenya's gaze shifted back to the patient ranks of StarClan. "And I've been waiting to speak with you, Trickpaw." Her voice faltered before she said his name, almost as if she had difficulty getting it out of her throat. "And there will be time to speak later. But now you must awake. Remember your gift to the Moonchild!"
"What is it that I must give her?" Trickpaw demanded. But Kenya and the rest of StarClan were fading fast, like dew on a morning in greenleaf. Trickpaw ran from warrior to warrior, asking them the same. Every time he finished his question, though, the cat vanished, shaking its head slowly. Soon, Trickpaw was alone with the terrified cries of his Clan as they fought for survival against the unknown danger.
And now we cut out. Sorry for this chapter being so...short. Don't blame me. (holds out a Firestar plushie) It's all his fault! His, I tell you! (runs away cuddling her Tigerstar plushie)