Lost Stars

At that moment, he wished he had never come here, never poked his paws into ThunderClan’s business. He felt like more than a failure; he felt like a murderer. As long as Bramblestar had been safe in ThunderClan’s medicine-cat den, there had been a chance that he would have gotten better.

But now we’ll never know.

Puddleshine brushed past Shadowpaw into the den, then a moment later slowly crawled out. By now all the other cats had realized that something was going on and had gathered around, all watching curiously as Puddleshine straightened up and let his gaze travel carefully over each of them.

“Bramblestar has stopped breathing,” he announced.

Alderheart drew in a choking breath, while Jayfeather swung around to face Shadowpaw, his tabby pelt bristling in anger. “How did this happen?” he demanded. “You never said that Bramblestar would lose a life!”

“I didn’t know—” Shadowpaw protested.

Jayfeather wasn’t listening. “He was supposed to get worse and then better, right? If he was going to lose a life anyway, we didn’t need to try this stupid plan. We could have just let the sickness run its course, and he could have died in his own nest.” He gazed around, lashing his tail in frustration. “Whatever made any of us think it was worth following an apprentice with such a mouse-brained idea? Unless . . . unless this was part of ShadowClan’s plan all along?”

At his words Tigerstar leaped forward, putting himself between Shadowpaw and the furious ThunderClan medicine cat. “Wait!” he ordered. “This may not be what we thought Shadowpaw’s vision implied, but when has StarClan ever been precise? Perhaps this is what they meant to happen. Bramblestar has more lives, yes?”

Alderheart, who was looking as stunned as Shadowpaw felt, gave a brief nod.

“Then we must simply wait,” Tigerstar continued. “Bramblestar will visit StarClan, and then return to begin his next life.”

“That isn’t what Shadowpaw said would happen,” Jayfeather growled.

Tigerstar turned to him, his lips drawn back in the beginning of a snarl. “I have no reason to doubt my son,” he stated. “Why don’t we all sit back and wait?”

Grudgingly the other cats agreed and settled themselves outside the makeshift den. Shadowpaw’s heart was racing, and he fixed his gaze on the dark tabby curve of Bramblestar’s back, all he could see among the piles of snow. But there was no movement from the den.

“How long does it take?” Dovewing asked, her whiskers twitching nervously. “I know how it was for Tigerstar, when he died and was made leader. But that was different. Usually . . . if a leader loses a life . . . how long?”

“Every time I’ve seen a leader lose a life, it’s been quick,” Jayfeather replied. “Sometimes so quick that you might not even realize that a life was lost. The cat simply breathes out the last breath of one life and gasps the first breath of the next one. Sometimes there’s a brief pause, but . . .” He hesitated, then went on more briskly, “If Bramblestar has gone to StarClan’s hunting grounds, they will greet him, give him any messages they want him to bring back to his Clan, and return him to life. He should be back any moment now.”

All the cats resigned themselves to waiting. Shadowpaw couldn’t feel anything, not even his mother’s comforting nuzzle, as he stared at the snow den. He desperately wanted to believe that Bramblestar would come back, but this wasn’t how he had imagined it would happen. And something was nagging at him, like an ant crawling through his fur.

What if the voice I’ve been hearing was wrong? What if the older medicine cats were right to doubt me this whole time? What if I don’t have a connection to StarClan at all, but am just a foolish, strange cat . . . a foolish cat who has led darkness into the Clans?

Moments dragged by, seemingly endless. Every cat was silent, their tension clear in their twitching tails and bristling fur. Every cat seemed to know that it was taking too long for Bramblestar to return, but Shadowpaw guessed that no cat wanted to be the one to say so.

Finally a gray light began to spill over the moor, showing the medicine cats’ faces growing more and more despairing. The sun rose, red and angry.

As if at a signal, Jayfeather rose to his paws and strode over to the den, moved his head from side to side to scent the air, then turned back to face the others.

“Bramblestar is dead,” he announced. “For good. StarClan has forgotten us.”

“No!” Alderheart wailed. “No, he can’t be!”

He pushed past Jayfeather into the den and crouched down beside his father’s body.

Shadowpaw watched him, stunned, then turned to Tigerstar and Dovewing, who were staring at each other, their eyes wide with consternation. “We have to leave,” Tigerstar meowed.