Lost Stars

Shadowpaw wanted to leap into the air with excitement at being back at the Moonpool, but he fought to hold on to some self-control, and padded down the spiral path to the water’s edge with all the dignity expected of a medicine cat. Awe welled up inside him as he felt his paws slip into the hollows made by cats countless seasons before.

Who were they? Where did they go? he wondered.

The two ThunderClan medicine cats were already sitting beside the pool. Shadowpaw guessed it was too cold to wait outside for everyone to arrive, as the medicine cats usually did. Alderheart was thoughtfully grooming his chest fur, while Jayfeather’s tail-tip twitched back and forth in irritation. He turned his blind blue gaze on Puddleshine and Shadowpaw as they reached the bottom of the hollow.

“You took your time,” he snapped. “We’re wasting moonlight.”

Shadowpaw realized that Kestrelflight of WindClan and Mothwing and Willowshine, the two RiverClan medicine cats, were sitting just beyond the two from ThunderClan. The shadow of a rock had hidden them from him until now.

“Nice to see you, too, Jayfeather,” Puddleshine responded mildly. “I’m sorry if we’re late, but I don’t see Frecklewish or Fidgetflake, either.”

Jayfeather gave a disdainful sniff. “If they’re not here soon, we’ll start without them.”

Would Jayfeather really do that? Shadowpaw was still staring at the ThunderClan medicine cat, wondering, when a rustling from the top of the slope put him on alert. Looking up, he saw Frecklewish pushing her way through the bushes, followed closely by Fidgetflake.

“At last!” Jayfeather hissed.

He’s in a mood, Shadowpaw thought, then added to himself with a flicker of amusement, Nothing new there, then.

As the two SkyClan medicine cats padded down the slope, Shadowpaw noticed how thin and weary they both looked. For a heartbeat he wondered if there was anything wrong in SkyClan. Then he realized that he and the rest of the medicine cats looked just as skinny, just as worn out by the trials of leaf-bare.

Frecklewish dipped her head to her fellow medicine cats as she joined them beside the pool. “Greetings,” she mewed, her fatigue clear in her voice. “How is the prey running in your Clans?”

For a moment no cat replied, and Shadowpaw could sense their uneasiness. None of them wants to admit that their Clan is having problems.

Shadowpaw was surprised when Puddleshine, who was normally so pensive, was the first to speak up. Maybe the cold had banished his mentor’s reserve and enabled him to be honest.

“The hunting is very poor in ShadowClan,” he replied; Shadowpaw felt a twinge of alarm at how discouraged his mentor sounded. “If this freezing cold goes on much longer, I don’t know what we’ll do.”

The remaining medicine cats exchanged glances of relief, as if they were glad to learn their Clan wasn’t the only one suffering.

Willowshine nodded in agreement. “Many RiverClan cats are getting sick because it’s so cold.”

“In ThunderClan too,” Alderheart murmured.

“We’re running out of herbs,” Fidgetflake added with a twitch of his whiskers. “And the few we have left are shriveled and useless.”

Frecklewish gave her Clanmate a sympathetic glance. “I’ve heard some of the younger warriors joking about running off to be kittypets,” she meowed.

“No cat had better say that in my hearing.” Jayfeather drew his lips back in the beginning of a snarl. “Or they’ll wish they hadn’t.”

“Keep your fur on, Jayfeather,” Frecklewish responded. “It was only a joke. All SkyClan cats are loyal to their Clan.”

Jayfeather’s only reply was an irritated flick of his ears.

“I don’t suppose any of you have spare supplies of catmint?” Kestrelflight asked hesitantly. “The clumps that grow in WindClan are all blackened by frost. We won’t have any more until newleaf.”

Most of the cats shook their heads, except for Willowshine, who rested her tail encouragingly on Kestrelflight’s shoulder. “RiverClan can help,” she promised. “There’s catmint growing in the Twoleg gardens near our border. It’s more sheltered there.”

“Thanks, Willowshine.” Kestrelflight’s voice was unsteady. “There’s whitecough in the WindClan camp, and without catmint I’m terrified it will turn to greencough.”

“Meet me by the border tomorrow at sunhigh,” Willowshine mewed. “I’ll show you where the catmint grows.”

“This is all well and good,” Jayfeather snorted, “every cat getting along, but let’s not forget why we’re here. I’m much more interested in what StarClan has to say. Shall we begin?” He paced to the edge of the Moonpool and stretched out one forepaw to touch the surface, only to draw his paw back with a gasp of surprise.