Lost Stars

Chapter 18

Bristlefrost stood in the shadow of a rock, gazing around the snow-covered clearing; she was alert to pick up any sign of prey. Mousewhisker, who was leading the hunting patrol, had disappeared with Berrynose around a holly bush, but she could still see Snaptooth, his golden tabby pelt standing out against the white of the snowbank where he was crouching.

With all the tensions in the camp, Bristlefrost was finding it hard to concentrate. Bramblestar was still lying motionless in the medicine cats’ den, breathing but seeming unaware of anything going on around him. And the attempt to break the ice in the Moonpool, which had briefly given the Clan cats so much hope, had ended in failure. The Moonpool appeared to be frozen solid, and StarClan had remained stubbornly silent.

We could do with some good prey, Bristlefrost thought, though she had nearly given up hope of finding any. At least we’d all feel better if our bellies were full.

Almost as soon as the thought went through her mind, Bristlefrost spotted a disturbance ahead of her, where rocks and tussocks of grass jutted out of a shallow, uneven slope. Some of the snow shifted and rolled down the bank in clumps, leaving a dark hole. A nose poked out, a pair of ears . . .

A rabbit!

Bristlefrost’s jaws started to water; it had been so long since she’d seen a rabbit, she could hardly believe it was there in front of her. It emerged from its burrow and hopped slowly forward, its forepaws scrabbling at the snow to uncover buried grass and vegetation. It seemed to have no idea of the danger waiting for it only a few fox-lengths away.

Glancing across the clearing, Bristlefrost realized that Snaptooth had spotted the rabbit too. His ears were pricked, his whiskers quivering, and his gaze was fixed on the creature as it nibbled at the frostbitten grass.

Stay where you are! Bristlefrost wanted to yowl the words at her Clanmate, but she knew that their only hope of catching the prey was to stay still and silent until it was too far away from its burrow to dive safely back inside.

Her heart was thumping so hard it was painful, and it took all her self-control not to hurl herself at the rabbit. What if it turns back, and all I’ve done is stand here and stare at it?

Then Bristlefrost noticed that Snaptooth had flattened himself to the ground and begun to creep forward cautiously, working his way around to get between the rabbit and the burrow. The rabbit, too intent on feeding, didn’t notice his stealthy movement. We’ll have it trapped! Bristlefrost thought with delight, her mouth watering.

Once Snaptooth was in position, Bristlefrost lowered herself into the hunter’s crouch and prowled toward her prey, testing the ground with every paw step. But before she was close enough to pounce, a gust of wind passed over her. Bristlefrost froze, hoping the wind hadn’t been strong enough to carry her scent to her quarry.

The rabbit sat upright, its ears erect and its nose twitching. Oh, no! Now it knows I’m here! Spinning around, her prey darted for its burrow, its strong hind legs thrusting it forward in massive leaps. But Snaptooth was waiting. As he bared his teeth and bunched his muscles for a pounce, the rabbit let out a squeal of terror and skidded to a halt in a flurry of snow. It doubled back and raced off at an angle, heading away from where Bristlefrost was waiting to complete the kill.

Fox dung!

Snaptooth gave chase, but the rabbit was outpacing him. Bristlefrost almost despaired, until she remembered something Rosepetal had told her when she was an apprentice: Don’t run to where your prey is; run to where it’s going to be.

Bristlefrost flung herself forward, aiming for a spot a few fox-lengths ahead of the fleeing rabbit. Dread stabbed into her belly at the thought of losing the best prey she’d seen in moons. If the rabbit changes direction, I’ve totally messed up!

But the rabbit kept going. Bristlefrost leaped on top of it; hunter and prey rolled over and over in a whirl of legs, tail, and snow. Then Bristlefrost managed to fix her paw across the rabbit’s throat and dug her claws in deep. Blood gushed out and the rabbit went limp.

“Thank you, StarClan, for this prey,” Bristlefrost panted as she staggered to her paws and shook snow out of her pelt. But is there any point in thanking StarClan when they won’t talk to us?

“Hey, great catch!” Snaptooth came bounding up. “It’s pretty plump, too.”

Triumph surged through Bristlefrost. She felt better than she had since the dreadful day when she was made a warrior. “It’s your catch too,” she told her Clanmate.

“Yeah, we make a great team!” Snaptooth purred.

His words sent a pang of pain through Bristlefrost as she remembered what she had hoped for with Stemleaf. Even though she knew that Snaptooth meant no more than friendliness, that was a path where she refused to set her paws.

“Let’s go and show Mousewhisker and Berrynose,” she meowed. “They went this way.”

Carrying the rabbit, Bristlefrost padded across the clearing to the holly bush where the two senior warriors had disappeared. Skirting the prickly branches, she halted at the sound of murmuring voices from the other side, and signaled with her tail for Snaptooth to do the same.

Cautiously, Bristlefrost poked her head around the bush and spotted Berrynose and Mousewhisker huddled together in conversation, not even trying to hunt.

“Lazy furballs!” Snaptooth exclaimed, peering over Bristlefrost’s shoulder. “Let’s show them the rabbit and make them feel really ashamed of themselves.”

Bristlefrost shook her head. “No. I want to hear what’s so important they have to talk about it in secret.”

With Snaptooth just behind her, Bristlefrost crept forward as far as she could while still remaining in the shelter of the bush.

“. . . sickness is really bad,” Mousewhisker was mewing as Bristlefrost came into earshot. “And it’s getting worse. What will happen if Bramblestar dies?”

Berrynose shrugged helplessly. “When Clan leaders die, they go to StarClan and receive wisdom before they take up their next life and return to go on leading their Clan. But what happens if Bramblestar can’t reach StarClan? Will he just die, and never come back?”

“And then what happens to ThunderClan?” Mousewhisker wondered. “Squirrelflight would be a good leader, but what if she can’t meet with StarClan and receive her nine lives?”

“Then she’ll have to be our leader without StarClan,” Berrynose growled. “If StarClan is going to abandon us when we need them most, we can show them that we don’t need them!”

Mousewhisker looked uncertain; Bristlefrost thought that he wasn’t ready to abandon reliance on the spirits of their warrior ancestors. “I wonder if this is what ShadowClan’s weird medicine-cat apprentice saw in his vision,” he meowed.

Berrynose let out a snort of disgust. “I don’t know. Jayfeather thinks he’s birdbrained, and you know ShadowClan . . . there’s a reason we didn’t invite them to help with the Moonpool! They’re about as trustworthy as a den of foxes,” he muttered.

His voice began to die away, and Bristlefrost leaned closer, angling her ears forward to pick up the lower tones. But at that moment, Snaptooth sneezed, and both senior warriors looked up.

Bristlefrost turned her head to glare at her Clanmate. “Thanks for that!” she hissed through her teeth. “Now we’ll never get to hear the rest of it.” Then she padded forward with the rabbit and dropped it at Mousewhisker’s paws.

“Good job!” Berrynose exclaimed, swiping his tongue over his jaws as he stared at the prey.

Mousewhisker gave Bristlefrost an approving nod. “Rosepetal taught you well,” he mewed.

“It was both of us,” Bristlefrost responded, flicking her tail toward Snaptooth, who ducked his head, obviously pleased.

Bristlefrost’s feeling of triumph had returned, warming her as she headed back toward camp with the rest of the patrol. But at the same time, she couldn’t stop thinking about what the senior warriors had said.

What will happen if Bramblestar loses a life?

Bristlefrost crouched beside the fresh-kill pile, sharing a mouse with her mother, Ivypool. Most of ThunderClan was gathered around, devouring the prey from the morning’s hunt. Pride bubbled up inside Bristlefrost as she saw the elders, along with Daisy, Sorrelstripe, and Sparkpelt from the nursery, all feasting on the rabbit she and Snaptooth had caught.

No cat will go to their nest hungry tonight. I helped to care for my Clan.

But Bristlefrost was distracted from her feelings of satisfaction as a commotion rose outside the medicine cats’ den. Turning her head, she saw Squirrelflight plunge out from behind the bramble screen, then spin around to speak to some cat still inside.

“I don’t want to talk about this! Bramblestar will get better.” Her words carried clearly across the camp. “The only reason he hasn’t is that you haven’t tried everything!”

Alderheart followed the Clan deputy out of the den. Every cat in the Clan had fallen silent at Squirrelflight’s outburst, but the medicine cat remained calm. His voice as he responded was so quiet that Bristlefrost couldn’t make out the words.

“You and Jayfeather must save your leader!” Squirrelflight snapped back at him. “I have complete faith in you, so there’s nothing to discuss.” With that she turned away and stalked across the camp to the fresh-kill pile, head and tail held high.

Alderheart’s gaze followed her, and Bristlefrost noticed how devastated he looked, his muzzle tight and his tail drooping. She could imagine how difficult it must be for a medicine cat to treat his own father, especially when he wasn’t getting better. Especially when that father was Clan leader, too.

Glancing at Ivypool, Bristlefrost was grateful for the reassuring look in her mother’s eyes. “Don’t worry,” Ivypool murmured. But she still rose to her paws and went to sit at Squirrelflight’s side.

Bristlefrost finished up the last few scraps of mouse and was thinking about retiring to her den when she spotted movement at the end of the thorn tunnel. Hollytuft and Flippaw, who had been out on border patrol, appeared; Bristlefrost’s eyes widened in surprise as she recognized the cats who followed them into the camp.

Tigerstar and Shadowpaw!

Bristlefrost tensed. Could Tigerstar possibly know about the attempt to break through the ice in the Moonpool? Was he here to yell at Bramblestar? It would be a shame to get under Tigerstar’s fur when the attempt didn’t even work. . . .

Lilyheart, the third member of the patrol, brought up the rear, and Hollytuft led the way across the camp to where Ivypool was trying to coax Squirrelflight to eat a thrush.

Squirrelflight rose to her paws and faced Tigerstar where he halted beside the fresh-kill pile. Shadowpaw stood beside him, looking down at his paws; Bristlefrost could see his whiskers twitching nervously.

“Greetings, Tigerstar.” Squirrelflight’s eyes were wary, but she inclined her head coolly. “What do you want with ThunderClan?”

“I’ve come with an important message,” Tigerstar replied. “I think it would be best for me to speak in private with Bramblestar.”

“I’m sorry.” Squirrelflight’s voice was calm. “Bramblestar isn’t available at the moment. He’s . . . out hunting. So whatever you want to say, you can say in front of all ThunderClan’s warriors.”

For a moment Tigerstar looked taken aback. He hesitated; Bristlefrost guessed he was weighing the tension in Squirrelflight’s expression.

“Very well,” he meowed at last. “My message is a strange one: I know that your leader, Bramblestar, is very sick.”

Bristlefrost felt her belly clench and heard gasps of amazement rising from her Clanmates around her.

“How do you know?” Lionblaze demanded. The golden tabby tom rose and skirted the fresh-kill pile to stand beside Squirrelflight. His amber eyes blazed as he glared at Tigerstar. “Who told you?”

Tigerstar gave no sign that Lionblaze’s aggressive tone had offended him. “My son, Shadowpaw,” he began, “who as you know is a medicine-cat apprentice, told me, after he received a message from StarClan.”

“No cat has received a message from StarClan!” Graystripe put in.

Tigerstar’s gaze flicked to the elder and away again. “My son has. And, more important, he knows how to cure Bramblestar.”

Every cat’s gaze turned to Squirrelflight, who stood silent for a long moment, clearly stunned. Then she glanced at Flippaw. “Please fetch Jayfeather and Alderheart,” she requested.

The whole Clan waited in silence while the apprentice scurried across the camp and vanished behind the bramble screen at the entrance to the medicine cats’ den. Bristlefrost felt so confused that she couldn’t move, her mind racing and filling with half-formed questions. She didn’t know whether to hope that Shadowpaw really did have the answer to Bramblestar’s mysterious illness, or whether this was all some kind of ShadowClan trick to attack ThunderClan when they were vulnerable. Maybe Tigerstar did find out about the Moonpool, and this is some complicated strategy to get revenge?

When Bristlefrost felt she couldn’t wait a heartbeat longer, Jayfeather and Alderheart appeared from their den and padded over to the fresh-kill pile with Flippaw following them.

“What’s all this?” Jayfeather demanded harshly.

Instead of explaining, Squirrelflight turned to Shadowpaw. “All right,” she began, “if Bramblestar were sick, how would you cure him?”

Shadowpaw looked up at the ThunderClan deputy; for a moment Bristlefrost could see he was too overwhelmed to speak, until Tigerstar gave him an encouraging nudge.

“W-well . . . ,” the apprentice stammered, “Bramblestar’s illness is like a—a wildfire. It can’t be snuffed out with treatment. It has to be allowed to burn out on its own.”

Squirrelflight’s green eyes narrowed as she gazed down at him. “And what does that mean?” she asked.

“It’s an unusual idea—” Tigerstar began, then broke off and waved his tail at his son for Shadowpaw to continue.

Shadowpaw gathered himself and started to speak again. Bristlefrost felt a twinge of admiration for the young cat; it must take courage to tell a rival Clan what to do, when he was no more than an apprentice, and to stand up to that Clan’s suspicious glares while he explained.

“You should take Bramblestar to a cold place on the moor,” Shadowpaw told the ThunderClan medicine cats, his voice sounding more confident as he continued. “The colder the better, and somewhere where the wind is strong. Build him a den in the snow, and have him sleep there overnight. The sickness will get worse before it gets better, but when Bramblestar wakes up he will be strong again, and just as healthy as before.”

A long, disbelieving silence followed Shadowpaw’s words. At last Squirrelflight shook her head, turning to Tigerstar. “Are you serious?” she demanded. “Do you really think I would allow any cat to drag my sick mate—if he were sick—out onto the moor to freeze to death?”

“Maybe he does,” Jayfeather growled, turning a hostile expression on the ShadowClan leader. “Shadowpaw, exactly how has Puddleshine been training you? Don’t you realize that what you’re suggesting could kill Bramblestar? That would leave ThunderClan weak, when we have problems enough as it is. And maybe that’s what Tigerstar wants!” he finished with a lash of his tail.

“Nonsense,” Tigerstar responded. He closed his eyes briefly and dug his claws into the ground; Bristlefrost could see what a massive effort it took for him to keep his temper in check. “I came here in good faith, to share my son’s vision. I didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”

“I’m not sure where Shadowpaw’s visions come from,” Jayfeather snapped back at him, “but the medicine cats couldn’t even reach our ancestors when we made cracks in the frozen Moonpool. So I know these instructions aren’t coming from StarClan!”

Tigerstar’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?” he asked Jayfeather. “Who made cracks in the Moonpool? Why would any cat think of doing that to such a special place?”

A long silence followed the ShadowClan leader’s questions. Bristlefrost thought she could see a look of deep regret in Jayfeather’s eyes, and uncomfortable glances from the other cats standing around. She knew Jayfeather had never meant to give away so much to Tigerstar, after the ShadowClan cats hadn’t been invited to help.

Finally Squirrelflight raised her head, as if she was bracing herself for an unpleasant task. “It was necessary . . . ,” she mewed. “To see if we could reach StarClan again. All the Clans helped.”

“ShadowClan didn’t help,” Tigerstar retorted, his shoulder fur beginning to bush up in anger. “Why were we left out?”

Every cat stared uncomfortably at Shadowpaw, who kept his gaze fixed on his paws. Bristlefrost felt sorry for the apprentice, her kin, who wasn’t much older than her. He even looked a bit like her and her littermates . . . she could see Flippaw in the shape of his eyes, Thriftpaw in the seriousness of his gaze.

What must it feel like, when all the Clans think you’re lying?

But at the same time, Bristlefrost could see why the ThunderClan cats were so doubtful about him now. How could any cat believe that his message about putting Bramblestar out in the cold could really be from StarClan? Why is Shadowpaw so special? she wondered. And why would StarClan seek out a ShadowClan medicine cat, and not one from ThunderClan or one of the other clans?

“I understand now,” Tigerstar growled, when it was clear that no cat intended to answer his questions. “I’m sorry I brought my son here, through the cold, for no good reason. If the other Clans don’t view ShadowClan as one of them, then ShadowClan will seek its own path. This is the last wisdom from Shadowpaw that I will share with outsiders!” He raked the crowd of cats around him with a last hostile glare. “Come on, Shadowpaw. We’re leaving.”

Turning, he stormed off across the camp. For a moment, Shadowpaw hesitated, as if he didn’t want to follow, until Tigerstar glanced back over his shoulder and snapped, “Shadowpaw!”

The apprentice dipped his head to Squirrelflight and followed his father.

Before the two ShadowClan cats reached the thorn tunnel, Squirrelflight suddenly stepped forward; Bristlefrost saw remorse in the Clan deputy’s face. “Wait . . . ,” she called out to the cats’ retreating tails, her voice weak and uncertain.

Tigerstar checked for an instant, then continued without looking back. Both he and Shadowpaw disappeared into the tunnel.

When they were gone, Squirrelflight heaved a deep sigh, and turned a glare on Jayfeather from narrowed green eyes. Though Jayfeather couldn’t see the glare, he certainly seemed to feel it; he shrugged his shoulders uneasily. “We all know what Tigerstar has been like in the past,” he mumbled.

Bristlefrost could feel her pelt tingling from the tension in the camp, as if ants were crawling through her fur. She couldn’t believe that such a short time ago she’d been sharing prey with her Clanmates and feeling optimistic.

“Maybe Shadowpaw’s idea has some merit,” Alderheart meowed. His voice was calm, and he was clearly trying to smooth things over.

“What?” Jayfeather spat. “You must have a whole nest of bees in your brain if you want to do what that delusional little flea-pelt told you!”

“Keep your fur on, Jayfeather,” Alderheart told him, resting his tail for a moment on the older medicine cat’s shoulder. “That’s not what I mean at all. But don’t you remember how I once saved Puddleshine from a terrible Twoleg infection by feeding him the flesh of deathberries? At first, it seemed like they would kill him, and he got worse before he got better—just like Shadowpaw said would be the answer to Bramblestar’s illness.”

His words were met with silence. Every cat in the Clan was staring at Alderheart. Bristlefrost struggled with a surge of fear. Bramblestar will die if Alderheart leaves him in the snow.

The silence dragged out until Alderheart lashed his tail in frustration. “We have to do something to save my father!” he blurted out.

“But we don’t have to do this,” Jayfeather retorted. “It’s absurd. We may have known Tigerstar for a long time, but don’t forget that before he became Clan leader, he abandoned his Clan and his role as deputy.”

“He came back,” Squirrelflight pointed out.

“Okay, he came back,” Jayfeather meowed. “And then he caused more problems when we were trying to adjust the territories to make a home for SkyClan. And that’s what worries me: Tigerstar seems to be a cat who changes his mind and his mood very quickly. We can never be sure what Tigerstar’s true motives are—except that he thinks of ShadowClan above all else.”

“You think he told Shadowpaw what to say?” Ivypool asked. “To attack ThunderClan by killing our leader?”

No cat could be that evil! Bristlefrost thought, horrified.

Jayfeather shook his head. “No, I believe Shadowpaw means well. He truly thinks he is helping. But in my opinion, none of his visions have ever sounded as if they come from StarClan.”

“But when has StarClan ever been predictable?” Alderheart demanded, his tone growing heated. “Maybe StarClan has changed their way of reaching us, and will only communicate through Shadowpaw. Maybe, like so many of StarClan’s actions, the reason will only become clear with time. And Bramblestar is dying. None of our usual herbs are working! With StarClan cutting us off, mustn’t we—now more than ever—do all we can to keep him alive?”

Squirrelflight stepped forward to Alderheart’s side. Bristlefrost could see sorrow in her eyes, and knew she was on the brink of making what must be the hardest decision of her life.

“I’m sorry, Alderheart,” she mewed at last. “I can’t allow this.”

For a moment Bristlefrost thought that Alderheart would protest. Then he lowered his head, saying nothing. Squirrelflight gazed at him for a moment more before padding off to the warriors’ den.

“Squirrelflight, you should eat something,” Ivypool called after her, but Squirrelflight didn’t look back.

An awkward silence fell over the camp, as if no cat had any idea what to say. One or two of the warriors began to drift away toward their den, only to halt as Jayfeather spoke.

“I have an idea,” he told Alderheart. “If we could get some borage, we might be able to rouse Bramblestar.”

Hope and confusion warred in Alderheart’s eyes. “Why borage?” he asked. “We use it to reduce fever. That’s hardly necessary right now.”

“It might sound odd,” Jayfeather agreed, “but Shadowpaw was right about one thing. The longer Bramblestar stays in our den, the more chance there is of his temperature dropping so quickly that he might never recover. But if we gave him something to make him colder . . . Would that spur him on to get better, the way Shadowpaw suggested? The way the deathberries seemed to trick Puddleshine into getting better.” When Alderheart didn’t reply, he added, “It’s got to be worth trying, right?”

Alderheart gave his pelt a shake, as if he was rousing himself from deep concentration. “It might be,” he agreed. “But all our herb stocks are low, and we’re completely out of borage. I don’t know where we’ll find any more with snow covering the ground.”

“There’s one place we might get some,” Jayfeather told him. “You know that spit of ground that juts out into the lake? I know borage grows right at the far end, but we usually can’t get at it because there’s such a tangle of brambles and gorse bushes in the way. In normal times it’s not worth the effort, when we can get plenty of borage elsewhere. But now that the lake is frozen . . .”

“We might be able to reach it!” Alderheart exclaimed, his eyes flaring with hope at last.

Bristlefrost leaped to her paws. “I’ll lead a patrol to go and collect some!” she offered, excitement making her paws tingle. “Who’s coming with me?”

“I will,” Spotfur responded instantly.

For a moment annoyance overwhelmed Bristlefrost’s excitement. You would, she thought sourly. Showing off in front of Stemleaf.

Then Bristlefrost realized that she was wrong. Spotfur was a loyal Clan cat, stepping up when her Clan and her leader needed her. Even though Bristlefrost was still upset about Stemleaf, she was impressed by Spotfur’s courage.

“Thank you,” she meowed, dipping her head toward the spotted tabby she-cat.

Poppyfrost, Stemleaf, Cherryfall, and Flywhisker all stepped forward to volunteer, and Bristlefrost found herself at the head of a patrol.

My first time leading a patrol for my Clan!

“All right,” she meowed, filled with a new sense of purpose. “Let’s go.”