Lost Stars

Chapter 3

Bristlepaw tasted the air as she followed her mentor, Rosepetal, through the undergrowth. Beyond the edge of the trees she could hear the wash of waves and feel the chilly wind that blew from the lake right into the depths of her fur. If only we could find some prey! she thought. The whole of ThunderClan is going hungry.

But in spite of her worries, she raised her head and tail with pride at being out on patrol with Rosepetal and two other warriors, especially when one of them was Stemleaf. Watching him now, crouching beside a bush where he thought he had scented a mouse, she admired his sleek orange-and-white fur and the alert angle of his ears as he listened for his prey.

Does he ever notice me? Bristlepaw wondered. He said I made a great catch when I killed that squirrel yesterday. But I don’t just want him to think I’m a good apprentice. I want him to be impressed with me.

A sudden yowling from the direction of the lake distracted Bristlepaw from her thoughts. At the same moment Stemleaf pounced under the bush and let out a hiss of fury. “Fox dung! I’d have had the mouse, but that racket scared it off.”

“Something’s wrong!” Rosepetal exclaimed as the yowling continued. “Come on!”

“But that’s SkyClan territory,” Eaglewing, the fourth member of the patrol, protested as all four cats raced toward the lake.

Rosepetal glanced over her shoulder at the ginger she-cat. “We help cats in trouble, no matter what their Clan,” she retorted.

Bristlepaw thought that she could pick up SkyClan scent coming from the direction of the lake, but the bitterly cold wind whipping around her made it hard to be certain. A few heartbeats later, bursting out of the trees, she saw that she had been right. Farther down the shore, beyond the SkyClan border, two cats were running to and fro along the water’s edge. The terrified yowling came from them.

Out in the lake, a third cat was trapped in the freezing water. He was clawing frantically at the edge of the ice, but it kept breaking under the weight of his paws, and his struggles seemed to be driving him farther away from the shore. Each time his head dipped under the water, it took him longer to fight his way back to the surface. Soon, Bristlepaw realized, he would vanish beneath the ice for good.

Instinctively, Bristlepaw bounded forward, outpacing her Clanmates. Reaching the edge of the lake, she took a deep breath, bracing herself to stop her limbs from trembling. StarClan, help me! she prayed. Aloud she called, “Hang on! I’m coming!”

Rosepetal’s voice came from somewhere behind her. “No! Bristlepaw, come back!”

Bristlepaw ignored her. Venturing out onto the ice, she lay flat and splayed out her legs to spread her weight as much as possible, and she forced herself to ignore the shock of cold penetrating her fur. Pushing herself forward with tiny movements of her claws, she headed for the struggling cat. She could feel the ice straining under her weight, but it held until she could reach the edge and stretch out her neck to grab the SkyClan cat’s scruff as he sank under the surface.

Gradually Bristlepaw edged backward, dragging the other cat with her. The ice began to break up around them under their combined weight, but when it finally gave way, Bristlepaw realized that the water was shallow enough for her to stand. She let go of the other cat’s scruff and boosted him with her shoulder so that he could stagger to the bank. Bristlepaw let out a gusty sigh of relief as she followed him and collapsed in a heap beside him on the pebbles. She was shivering, and not only from cold.

I’m lucky that I didn’t drown, too!

“Bristlepaw, are you completely mouse-brained?” Rosepetal came to stand by her apprentice, her voice as freezing as the wind and her eyes like chips of amber ice. “I told you to come back. I should have you dealing with the elders’ ticks for six moons at least.” Her voice grew gentler, almost changing to a purr. “I’d do it, too, if you hadn’t been so brave.”

“I had to,” Bristlepaw explained, warmed by her mentor’s praise. “I’m the lightest of us. Besides, he would have died if I’d left him there.” As she turned to the cat she had rescued, her warmth gave way to sharp irritation. “You stupid furball!” she exclaimed. “What were you doing out there on the thin ice?”

The cat—he looked barely older than a kit—raised his head to gaze at her. His eyes were full of gratitude. “I’m sorry,” he gasped. “It was an accident. I’m lucky you came along.”

The two other SkyClan cats had approached and were looking down at their Clanmate. Bristlepaw recognized them as two apprentices she had seen at the last Gathering: Kitepaw and Turtlepaw.

“It was partly our fault,” Turtlepaw admitted.

“Yeah, we’re sorry,” Kitepaw added, ducking his head in shame.

“And so you should be,” Rosepetal snapped, turning her furious gaze on the two apprentices. “How much help do you think you were, running up and down and yowling like a pair of foxes in a fit?”

The youngest apprentice nodded, and Bristlepaw noticed that, even drenched and shaking, he had summoned a gleam of appreciation at Rosepetal’s scolding.

Rosepetal turned to gaze down at him and went on, “Who are you, anyway? I don’t think I’ve seen you at a Gathering.”

The apprentice tottered to his paws. “I’m Rootkit,” he said, shivering. “I mean—Rootpaw.”

Rosepetal tilted her head, studying him. “Are you Violetshine’s kit?” she asked. “Hawkwing’s kin? Look at you—you’re shivering so hard, and there’s ice in your fur. We’d better get you back to the ThunderClan camp so our medicine cats can take a look at you.”

“No!” Rootpaw protested. “We’re SkyClan cats.”

“But the ThunderClan camp is much closer,” Rosepetal insisted. “It makes much more sense to go there.”

“But—” Rootpaw began.

Losing patience, Bristlepaw bent over Rootpaw and pushed her face close to his. “Don’t be mouse-brained,” she hissed. “You would freeze to death before you got back to your own camp.”

Rootpaw hesitated a heartbeat longer, then nodded.

“I’ll come with you,” Kitepaw meowed. “Turtlepaw, you’d better go back to camp and let them know what happened.”

Turtlepaw gulped, as if she wasn’t looking forward to that. “Okay,” she agreed. “We’re sorry, Rootpaw.” Without waiting for a response, she bounded off through the trees.

Bristlepaw steadied Rootpaw on one side, with Kitepaw on the other, as Rosepetal led the way back across the SkyClan border and toward the ThunderClan camp. The young apprentice looked embarrassed that he couldn’t walk by himself. But there’s no shame in that, Bristlepaw thought. Not after you nearly drowned. Any cat would need help.

Stemleaf, who was padding just ahead of the three apprentices, glanced back over his shoulder at Bristlepaw. “You did really well,” he mewed. “That was so impressive, how you saved Rootpaw.”

Bristlepaw dipped her head. “Thanks, Stemleaf.” Now that the emergency was over, she was beginning to feel the tingles of unease that she should have felt when she was out there on the ice. I’ll have nightmares about that for moons!

But she didn’t want to seem weak in front of a warrior—especially when that warrior was Stemleaf. “It was nothing, really,” she added.

Even though the icy wind was freezing her wet pelt, even though she felt more exhausted with every paw step, Stemleaf’s praise warmed her and made her want to go bounding through the forest, yowling out her joy. What Stemleaf had said to her meant more than any cat’s praise. More even than Rosepetal’s.

Eaglewing had run ahead to warn the ThunderClan medicine cats, so by the time Rosepetal’s patrol returned, Alderheart was already waiting for them. He bustled Rootpaw into the medicine cats’ den without asking for any more details.

Following them, Bristlepaw poked her head around the bramble tendrils that screened the entrance of the den, to see Rootpaw already flopped down in a nest of moss and bracken. Alderheart was busily licking his fur the wrong way to get his blood flowing and warm him up. She heard Jayfeather’s voice coming from the shadows at the back of the den.

“Thyme leaves for shock, and maybe one poppy seed, to be sure he gets some sleep.”

Reassured that Rootpaw would be cared for, Bristlepaw withdrew to discover that her littermates, Thriftpaw and Flippaw, had bounded up behind her, their eyes alight with eagerness.

“What happened?” Thriftpaw demanded. “Rosepetal said you rescued that SkyClan apprentice!”

For a moment Bristlepaw scuffled her forepaws in the earth floor of the camp, briefly embarrassed to tell her denmates about her own bravery.

Flippaw gave her a friendly shove. “Come on! Spit it out!”

Forcing herself to be calm, Bristlepaw told her story, determined not to exaggerate to make herself sound better. She saw her denmates’ eyes grow wider and wider as she spoke.

“Wow, that was brave!” Thriftpaw exclaimed when she had finished.

“They should make you a warrior right away,” Flippaw declared.

“Not yet, but that was still very impressive.” Bristlepaw turned her head at the sound of a new voice joining in, and let out a gasp to see Bramblestar padding up. “Very well done, Bristlepaw,” he finished.

Bristlepaw dipped her head respectfully to her Clan leader. “Thank you, Bramblestar.”

“I’ve got another job for you, if you’re not too tired,” Bramblestar continued. “I’m sending a patrol to SkyClan, to bring Leafstar up to date about Rootpaw’s condition. She needs to know that he’s being cared for, and that we’ll send him home as soon as he’s well enough. I’d like you to go with them.”

Bristlepaw turned to see Rosepetal and Stemleaf standing side by side a couple of tail-lengths away. All her tiredness fell away from her. She felt as if she could run all the way around the lake, three times, without stopping. I’ll be part of a mission to another Clan—and I’ll be with Stemleaf.

“Oh, yes, Bramblestar!” she replied. “I’d be glad to go.”

When Bristlepaw and the two warriors set out through the forest toward SkyClan territory, the wind seemed stronger than ever. Sometimes the gusts were so fierce that they were almost blown off their paws.

“I’ve had enough of this,” Rosepetal muttered when they were almost halfway to the border. “Let’s find somewhere to shelter for a bit.”

“I don’t mind going on,” Bristlepaw protested, afraid that her mentor was suggesting a rest for her sake.

Stemleaf flicked her ear gently with his tail-tip. “You don’t have to be the bravest cat in the Clan all the time,” he mewed teasingly.

At the same moment Rosepetal angled her ears toward a holly bush that grew at the bottom of a steep rise. “Under there would be good. Come on.”

I guess it’s okay to stop for a little while, Bristlepaw thought as she followed her mentor and wriggled underneath the branches into the warm layer of debris beneath. And it does feel good to be out of the wind.

Crouching beside Stemleaf beneath the holly bush, watching dead leaves whirl past, Bristlepaw couldn’t remember when she had been this happy. Even the wind bringing light flurries of snow, dappling their pelts with faint blotches of white, couldn’t destroy her buoyant mood.

“Will it be this cold every leaf-bare?” she asked Stemleaf.

The orange-and-white tom shrugged. “I don’t know,” he replied. “I’ve heard some of the elders say this is the coldest leaf-bare they remember.”

Rosepetal, who had been gazing out into the forest, scrambled to her paws. “The wind is dropping,” she mewed. “We should get going.”

Bristlepaw and Stemleaf followed her out of their shelter into the buffeting wind. Before they had gone very far, Bristlepaw picked up the faint scent of prey, and she spotted a wagtail fluttering to the ground between two massive trees.

“Should I try to catch it?” she murmured to Rosepetal.

Her mentor nodded. “Let’s see your hunting moves.”

Stemleaf swiped his tongue around his jaws. “The Clan has been fed,” he mewed. “No cat will mind if we stop for a little snack.”

Bristlepaw dropped into a hunter’s crouch and began to creep slowly toward the wagtail, setting each paw down as lightly as she could and keeping her tail tucked in to her side. From the corner of her eye she could glimpse Stemleaf, working his way around in a wide circle to approach the wagtail from the other side. For a moment she was dismayed, wondering if Stemleaf thought she wouldn’t make the catch, but then she realized he was only positioning himself to drive the bird toward her. The thought warmed her to the tips of her claws.

The wagtail seemed unaware that danger was close. It was stabbing its beak into debris at the foot of one of the trees, looking for insects. But as Bristlepaw halted, waggling her hindquarters in readiness for her pounce, something alerted her prey. It let out a harsh alarm call and fluttered upward. At the same moment, Stemleaf sprang forward. The wagtail veered away from him, and Bristlepaw was able to leap up and snag it in her claws. Its wings flapped wildly against her chest as she landed, and she killed it with a swift bite behind its head.

“Great catch!” Rosepetal exclaimed.

“Stemleaf helped,” Bristlepaw responded, blinking happily at the orange-and-white tom as he padded up. We make a great team, she added to herself.

“You’ve got the makings of a fine hunter,” Stemleaf said as all three cats crouched down to share the wagtail. “In fact, between that and your bravery when you rescued Rootpaw, you’re going to be quite a strong warrior one day.”

At first Bristlepaw couldn’t find the words to reply, but delight filled her until she couldn’t even feel the cold anymore. Though Stemleaf was young, she knew that the Clan already respected him as a strong and capable warrior.

If he believes in me, then I know I’ll be able to achieve my dream.

“I want to be one of the best warriors in ThunderClan,” she meowed to Stemleaf.

“I’m sure you will be,” he purred.

A picture flickered across Bristlepaw’s mind: an imagined future where she and Stemleaf were striding through the forest, warriors and mates, side by side.

We’ll be the strongest pair in the whole Clan. . . .