Mistystar's Omen by Erin Hunter Read Free Book Online Page A

punish us for letting Mothwing be our medicine cat, is there? No, of course not. She has been our medicine cat since before we came to the lake; why would StarClan turn against us now? And yet if they sent us a sign guiding us to a better source of prey, who would see it?
    The bushes at the entrance quivered, and Reedwhisker pushed his way through. “Blackstar says he is sorry to hear that Leopardstar has lost her last life, and looks forward to greeting you at the next Gathering,” he announced to Mistystar. His gaze fell on the puny pile of minnows. “Great StarClan! Did everyone eat already?”
    â€œNo,” meowed Mistystar. “We were just discussing finding other places to hunt until the fish return to the lake.”
    Reedwhisker nodded. “I can take a patrol into the marshes now if you like. And Mintfur?” He called to the pale gray tom who was washing himself on the far side of the clearing. “Why don’t you take the apprentices upstream to see what you can find in the reeds beyond the border?”
    For a moment Mistystar was taken aback by Reedwhisker’s brisk string of commands; then she remembered that he was the deputy now, and it was his duty to organize patrols. “Right, thanks, Reedwhisker,” she mewed. “I’ll come with you, if that’s okay?”
    Reedwhisker looked surprised. “Of course it is. Icewing, Pebblefoot, will you join us?” The two warriors had just returned from a border patrol, but they nodded and trotted over. Mistystar fell in behind them as they filed out of the camp. She felt Mothwing watching her from the entrance to the medicine cats’ den, but she didn’t turn around. It was too painful to look into her old friend’s eyes and know that she had been keeping a secret that threatened the whole Clan.
    There was a strong wind blowing across the marshes, scented with rain. Mistystar’s fur stood on end as she trekked across the sodden ground, leaping from tussock to tussock of spiny grass. The lake beckoned invitingly, sending waves fluttering over the stony shore. But Mistystar reminded herself that the water was empty, that the end of the drought had not brought an end to RiverClan’s hunger. Oh, StarClan, did Rippletail die in vain?
    Suddenly Icewing let out a hiss and stiffened as a vole crept out of a clump of grass. The white cat pounced a fraction too late, and the vole shot away. Icewing stumbled over a muddy rut, and for a moment it looked as if the vole was safe. Then Mistystar realized it was heading toward her, so she leaped forward, blocking the vole’s path with her front paws, and thrust her head down so that it practically ran into her jaws. One sharp, frantic bite and the creature lay dead at her feet.
    â€œGood catch!” called Reedwhisker.
    Mistystar looked at Icewing, who had stumbled to a halt beside her, panting. “We did it together,” she meowed. Icewing nodded, too breathless to speak.
    Up ahead, Pebblefoot was crouching at the foot of a wind-warped pine tree. “I can see a squirrel,” he yowled over his shoulder.
    â€œDon’t climb up after it!” Mistystar warned. RiverClan cats most definitely did not belong in trees. “Wait until it comes down!”
    Pebblefoot scraped his claws impatiently down the trunk. There was a brief gray blur, and the squirrel dropped down from one of the lower branches and set off across the marsh, its fluffy tail bobbing behind it. Pebblefoot tore after it, sending scraps of grass and mud flying up from his hind paws. With a start, Mistystar realized he was running too fast to see where he was.
    â€œStop, Pebblefoot!” she screeched. “You’re too close to the border!”
    Reedwhisker bounded after his Clanmate, but the squirrel leaped the final tussock of marsh grass onto the smooth, cropped surface of WindClan’s territory and took off up the slope. Pebblefoot raced after it, straight into a