Lost Stars

To Shadowpaw’s surprise, this time murmurs of agreement hummed through the crowd. Yarrowleaf purred, looking at him with fond eyes. “Shadowpaw is good,” she agreed. “He and my kits grew up together. Maybe it’s unusual for StarClan to communicate with only one cat, but why shouldn’t it be Shadowpaw?”

This time cats were nodding, meowing their agreement. Other cats spoke up in support, but Shadowpaw’s mind wandered. The certainty in their voices only made him feel more unsure. He knew they loved ShadowClan . . . but did that make him right? The visions he had received were so clear, just as if he were talking to a living cat. Shadowpaw knew that StarClan didn’t usually communicate like that. But what other way was there to explain it?

If I’m not being given these visions to save the Clans, Shadowpaw wondered, then why am I having them? He remembered Spiresight, whom he had met when he was a kit living inside the big Twoleg den, and remembered too how Spiresight had been treated by the other cats who lived there. Dovewing had said that Spiresight was a medicine cat in a group that didn’t understand medicine cats. The cats who lived at the Twoleg den saw his visions as crazy and believed there was something wrong with him.

Even if my Clan believes me . . . it’s not a long distance from “medicine cat” to “crazy furball,” Shadowpaw reflected. What if I am imagining it? Spiresight was right sometimes, but he talked a lot of nonsense, too. . . .

“Exactly!” Tigerstar’s loud, assertive voice jerked Shadowpaw out of his reflections. “I’m glad we all agree. Cloverfoot, please set the new border-patrol schedules and send out hunting patrols.”

The Clan leader leaped down from the branch and disappeared into his den, leaving his deputy to carry out his orders. Meanwhile, most of the warriors drew together in little groups, talking with their heads together and glancing over their shoulders at Shadowpaw.

As he turned away from them, wanting to be alone, Shadowpaw caught Puddleshine’s eye. His mentor looked curious but didn’t call to him. He could stand to be rid of me for a while, Shadowpaw mused. Let him get some real medicine-cat work done, without worrying about me, and all the trouble I’m causing.

Leaving the camp behind him, Shadowpaw headed out into the forest. Clouds lay low over the tops of the pine trees, and the light underneath them was dim, though it was not long past sunhigh. The surface of the snow glimmered eerily in the dusk, unbroken by any traces of prey. Shadowpaw’s paws and legs grew numb with cold as he broke through the crusty surface into the powdery snow beneath.

Eventually he came to a tall rock where wind had scoured most of the snow away, and he leaped to the top of it to get away from the freezing flakes for a while. From here Shadowpaw could just make out the lake, and parts of the other territories in the distance.

“I don’t want to hurt any of you,” he murmured. “Even I don’t know if my visions are real. I wish I did. . . .”

As Shadowpaw sat there, tucking in his paws and his tail to make himself as small as he could against the cold, the view in front of him began to change. A red stain spread over the icy blue of the lake, the color intensifying until the surface was blazing with scarlet fire. Shadowpaw felt himself being lifted up, as if he were a bird, passing beyond the trees until he could look down on the whole of the lake and the territories around it.

The fire raged more fiercely, spreading out into long lines that followed the boundaries of the Clans, until each Clan was separated from the others by leaping walls of flame. Then the fire began to creep inward, greedily devouring the trees and undergrowth as it encroached on the camps.

“No . . . ,” Shadowpaw whispered, his eyes wide with horror.

There was no way for the cats to escape. Shadowpaw couldn’t see them, but he could hear their wails and screeches of terror. He could smell the smoke and hear the crackle of the flames as they roared around the rock where he crouched, trembling with fear. His head swam, and darkness swirled in front of his eyes. He coughed as ash caught in his throat and filled his lungs, gasping for breath as his senses spiraled away.

Before Shadowpaw could lose consciousness, the vision ended as quickly as it had come. Shadowpaw took in huge gulps of cold, clean air, gazing stunned at the forest, which was peaceful, snow-covered, unharmed. The lake was still frozen; even the smell of smoke had vanished.