Lost Stars

His claws raked the pebbly shore as he spoke; Rootpaw felt sympathy welling up inside him as he recognized how stressed and upset the ShadowClan apprentice was.

“I’m not in your Clan,” he pointed out. “You can tell me. And I promise that anything you say will stay between the two of us.”

Shadowpaw gave Rootpaw a long look, then nodded quickly, as if he had decided to trust him. “Last night was the half-moon meeting at the Moonpool,” he began. “I saw some things there, but no one else did, and I’m not sure what they mean. If I tell the rest of the Clan what I saw, cats could get hurt. My father would be furious, and the other cats in the Clan already think I’m weird.”

Rootpaw glanced at his paws. He didn’t want Shadowpaw to see in his eyes that he had heard that said about him before, from Kitepaw, who had heard it from ShadowClan apprentices at the Gathering. “But if you don’t tell any cat, something bad will happen?” Rootpaw looked at Shadowpaw, trying hard to understand.

“I don’t know. I thought I would go back to the Moonpool to see if I can make any more sense of it all.”

Rootpaw barely understood what the ShadowClan apprentice was talking about. He didn’t know much about medicine cats, but he could tell that Shadowpaw was having a hard time. He felt sorry for him, but at the same time oddly comforted.

I thought I was the only one who felt like an outsider, not quite fitting into my Clan. Now here’s Shadowpaw, and he’s struggling too. It feels . . . sort of good, knowing there’s another cat with the same problems.

Besides, it was a relief to realize that Tree wasn’t the only Clan cat whose powers made him seem odd.

“I know I can’t really help you,” he meowed to Shadowpaw, “but I’ll walk with you for part of the way, if that would make you feel better.”

Shadowpaw blinked at him gratefully. “I’d like that.”

The two cats padded along side by side. The cold was deepening as the last of the daylight died, and a chilly breeze rose from the lake. Rootpaw led the way up the bank and into the shelter of the trees.

“You can be more than three tail-lengths from the edge of the lake when you’re with me,” he assured Shadowpaw.

But they had hardly traveled more than a couple of fox-lengths in the forest when Rootpaw felt a sharp pain stab upward into his pad. He let out a yowl; lifting his paw, he saw a massive thorn sticking into it.

“Just what I need!” he snapped, furious with himself. “Now my Clanmates will think I can’t even take a walk without getting hurt.”

“They never need to know,” Shadowpaw pointed out. “I’m a medicine-cat apprentice. I can treat you—it’s the least I can do, when you’re keeping me company.”

“Okay, thanks.” Rootpaw sat down and stuck his paw out.

“Give it a good lick, and get the thorn out,” Shadowpaw directed. “I’m going to look for some dock leaves.”

Rootpaw did as he was told. Almost the whole of the thorn was buried in his pad, but eventually he managed to grip the shank in his teeth and draw it out. A trickle of blood came with it, and he licked that away.

Meanwhile Shadowpaw returned with a couple of dock leaves in his jaws, and began chewing them up into a pulp. “This should make your paw feel better by the time you get back to camp,” he told Rootpaw as he spread the pulp over his pad. “But for now you’d better walk on three legs.”

“It feels better already,” Rootpaw responded, relaxing as the cool juices sank into his wound. “Thanks, Shadowpaw.” Kitepaw said that Shadowpaw is seriously weird, but I think he’s okay.

By the time Shadowpaw had finished treating him, the leaf-bare gloom was deepening into night. “It’s getting late,” Rootpaw meowed. “I’ll have to get back to camp, or Dewspring will skin my pelt and use it to line his nest.”

“That’s okay,” Shadowpaw assured him. “I’ll be fine from here. Thank you for keeping me company.”

“Maybe I’ll see you at the next Gathering.”

“I hope so.” Shadowpaw gave him a friendly nod and bounded away, heading back to the edge of the lake.

“Good luck at the Moonpool!” Rootpaw called after him, then turned toward the camp, padding along with his injured paw carefully raised. On the way, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Shadowpaw had told him.

Could something bad really happen to all the Clans?

He was so caught up in his thoughts that as he brushed through the rocks at the camp entrance, he ran straight into Reedclaw, who was on watch.

“Where have you been?” the tabby she-cat asked. She gave his fur a deep sniff and added, “And why do you smell of ShadowClan?”

Rootpaw froze. He couldn’t tell Reedclaw about his meeting with Shadowpaw. He’d promised not to tell any cat what they had talked about.