Lost Stars

“Let’s try again,” Kestrelflight suggested after a few heartbeats; it was clear he was striving desperately to sound optimistic.

“Like that will be any use,” Jayfeather growled, but no other cat objected, and finally even Jayfeather stooped to touch his nose once more to the ice that covered the pool.

But Jayfeather had been right. No starry cats appeared. It was almost as if the Moonpool had never been a special place . . . as if StarClan had never visited.

“Well, it’s not as if StarClan appears to us every time,” Kestrelflight meowed when every cat had moved back from the water.

Jayfeather glared sightlessly at the WindClan cat, his whiskers quivering. “Don’t be more mouse-brained than you can help,” he snarled. “We all know something is going on. We can all feel it.”

Shadowpaw swallowed hard. He glanced at Puddleshine, hoping that his mentor could think of some reason to argue with Jayfeather’s terrifying words. But Puddleshine merely stared at his paws, and none of the other medicine cats found anything to say.

It was Kestrelflight who broke the silence. “We might as well end the meeting,” he meowed. “It’s obvious nothing is going to happen tonight. Perhaps we’ll have better luck next time—surely the weather will have warmed up by then.”

Every cat murmured agreement. Shadowpaw thought that they were all relieved to be leaving that place, where they had once received wisdom from the spirits of their warrior ancestors, and now were met with only cold and silence.

When the other cats had headed off to their own camps, Puddleshine and Shadowpaw padded silently alongside the lake and crossed the border into ShadowClan territory. Shadowpaw felt worry like a dark cloud enveloping him and guessed that his mentor felt the same. The cold had grown even more intense, making his bones ache. The wind had dropped; a thick layer of cloud covered the sky, cutting off the moonlight and the glitter of the stars.

That has to be a bad omen, Shadowpaw thought.

Snow had begun to fall again, growing heavier and heavier until their fur was covered with it, and they slipped and stumbled into hidden dips in the ground. They were still some distance from the camp when thunder rolled out overhead, splitting the silence of the night. Fear gripped Shadowpaw, and he flattened himself to the ground; even Puddleshine flinched.

“Surely there can’t be thunder and snow at the same time?” Shadowpaw asked as the sound died away.

“It happens sometimes,” Puddleshine responded, casting an uneasy glance upward. “But if I’m being honest, this is all starting to feel bad. . . .”

Shadowpaw shuddered. It was feeling bad to him, too. But worse than the ominous feeling he had was the worry about what could be behind it.

What if it is me?

Shadowpaw sat abruptly upright, shaking off the moss and bracken from his nest in the medicine cats’ den. He was certain that some cat had called his name, though he could see the curve of Puddleshine’s back, half buried in his bedding, and hear his mentor’s gentle snores. Grassheart too was still deeply asleep in her nest.

“Who’s there?” Shadowpaw called out softly.

There was no reply. Shadowpaw began to feel pressure building inside his head, as if he were about to have another seizure. Blinking, he took several deep breaths, trying to ride out the sensation and stay conscious.

Gradually the pressure resolved itself into an urgent command. You have to go back to the Moonpool.

Shadowpaw flinched. The voice in his head was as clear as if Grassheart had woken and called to him . . . but he knew this was no living cat. “Why?” he whispered, though he didn’t expect an explanation.

He wondered if he ought to wake Puddleshine and tell him what was going on, but as soon as the thought occurred to him, he felt a strong conviction—almost like an order—that he should not.

This is a journey you have to take alone.

A spark of hope lit within Shadowpaw. I know this is StarClan. And if StarClan is reaching out to me, it must not be me they have problems with. Maybe he could be a normal medicine cat after all—a medicine cat who received visions from StarClan and used them to help guide all the Clans. Gathering all his courage, he rose to his paws.

As soon as he ventured outside his den, Shadowpaw spotted Stonewing crouching on guard beside the entrance to the camp. The snow was falling more lightly now and the clouds had begun to break up; the tom’s pale pelt glimmered in the starshine.

“I’ll never get past him if I go that way,” Shadowpaw muttered to himself.

Instead he wriggled through the dirtplace tunnel, and once out in the open he crawled forward with his belly fur brushing the snow until he was well clear of the camp. Then he strode out into the forest, heading for the hills and the frozen Moonpool.