Lost Stars

Bristlefrost twitched her tail-tip back and forth in frustration. Because of the way the spit of land curved around, she could see the clearer area with the stalks of borage just a few tail-lengths ahead. Only a narrow stretch of ice separated the patrol from the life-giving herb.

What if that stalk of borage could save Bramblestar? Surely it would be worth the risk then!

“We’re so close,” she meowed. “Maybe if one cat went alone, very fast, so their paws hardly touched the ice . . .”

“No!” Spotfur protested. “It’s too dangerous. If one cat fell in, how would the others even get them out?”

“You’re right, we should turn back.” Poppyfrost shuddered. “I remember when Flametail fell through the ice. No cat should have to go through that.”

Bristlefrost remembered hearing that story from the elders when she was a kit. Flametail had been a ShadowClan medicine-cat apprentice and had drowned in the lake when the ice gave way during another hard leaf-bare. She shivered at the thought of something so terrible happening again.

But the ice must be thicker now. . . . Every cat says there’s never been a leaf-bare as bad as this.

Bristlefrost gazed across the ice at the borage stems. They were so close, and yet they might as well have been countless fox-lengths away.

Without giving herself time to think, she leaped forward, sprinting across the ice so fast that her paws only skimmed the surface. She held her breath, determined to keep her nerve, and a few heartbeats later she sprang off the ice and across a scatter of rocks to where the borage grew.

“I made it!” she yowled triumphantly, glancing back at her Clanmates, who were staring at her, strung out behind her along the shore.

Bristlefrost nipped off a few stems of borage with her teeth and made them into a bundle so that she could carry them back. But as soon as she launched herself back onto the ice, she heard a sharp crack, and the ice where she had landed began to tilt. Dark water, painfully cold, welled up over Bristlefrost’s legs as she scrabbled vainly at the slick surface in an attempt to keep her balance. Letting out a terrified screech, she plunged deep into the icy lake.

I’ve done it now . . . I’m going to die . . . , Bristlefrost thought as the water closed over her head. She didn’t expect that her Clanmates would be able to save her. They’d be risking their own lives. . . . When she had saved Rootpaw, he had been close to shore, and rescuing him had been easy. And he had been an apprentice. . . .

I’m a warrior, old enough to know better.

Bristlefrost thrashed her paws helplessly, but the cold was sapping her strength. She had lost her sense of direction; she didn’t know where the surface was. Then something hard struck her on the shoulder. Instinctively she grabbed at it and sank her claws into wood. A moment later her head broke the surface, and she saw Spotfur on the more solid ice nearby, hauling her to safety at the end of a long branch.

Scrambling up onto the ice, Bristlefrost collapsed at Spotfur’s paws, coughed up a mouthful of water and ice, and looked up at her Clanmate. “Thank you!” she gasped. “I thought I was dead for sure.”

She noticed that Spotfur’s fur was disheveled and she had a tiny trickle of blood over one eye. Bristlefrost realized that she must have plunged into the gorse and brambles to get the branch, and then ventured out onto the same treacherous ice that had just given way under her own paws.

“We’d better get you to a medicine cat right away,” Spotfur meowed. “You must be freezing.”

Bristlefrost shook the ice crystals out of her pelt, beginning to shiver as she recovered enough to feel the cold. “I’m so sorry,” she mewed, as the rest of her patrol gathered around, concern in their eyes. “It was a stupid thing to do. I put you all in danger—especially you, Spotfur. You were so brave.”

And now I can understand what Stemleaf sees in you, she added to herself. You’re a brave cat, and a loyal Clanmate.

“I’ll tell Squirrelflight it was all my fault,” Bristlefrost promised. “I won’t let her blame any of you that we didn’t get the borage.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Spotfur assured her. “We’re all worried about Bramblestar, and that puts us all a little on edge. Besides, there’s no need to worry Squirrelflight about any of this. You did get what you came for!”

For the first time, Bristlefrost realized that a few stalks of borage were lying just in front of her, at her paws, where she had coughed up the ice and water she had swallowed. Her eyes widened and laughter bubbled up inside her.

“I got it after all!” she exclaimed.