Lost Stars

Chapter 21

Shadowpaw smoothed down the ThunderClan leader’s fur and tucked his paws beneath him. The walls of the den that he had carved out in the snow rose a tail-length above Bramblestar’s inert body. Following his vision, he had led the ThunderClan warriors to an exposed place on the moor, close to the WindClan border. Now, as he looked down at the sick leader, a shudder passed through him that had nothing to do with the biting cold: it was pure panic.

He looks so close to death. How can he survive this?

Shadowpaw hadn’t finished with his medicine-cat training, but he knew this was a terrible thing to do to any cat, let alone one as sick as Bramblestar.

But StarClan said . . .

As he stepped back, leaving the ThunderClan leader inside the den, Shadowpaw saw Alderheart standing nearby, looking tense and uncomfortable. Jayfeather was beside him, even more unhappy than usual, his face set in the most sour grimace Shadowpaw had ever seen.

Squirrelflight had insisted on the ThunderClan medicine cats being present for this attempt to cure Bramblestar. She herself had stayed behind in camp to take up her duties as temporary Clan leader, saying that if there was no news by dawn she would come to see for herself. Shadowpaw had guessed that part of her was relieved not to have to witness her mate’s ordeal.

Once he was sure that Bramblestar was settled, Shadowpaw left the snow den and went to sit beside his mother. Dovewing draped her tail protectively over his shoulders. Shadowpaw could see the worry in her eyes; it hadn’t been long since she had been a ThunderClan cat, and Bramblestar her leader.

Then Shadowpaw remembered his mother’s face in the vision he had received of the codebreakers. She and Tigerstar had broken the warrior code by becoming mates. Dovewing had abandoned her Clan.

Will StarClan ever forgive her?

Moonhigh came and went, and Bramblestar only seemed to be getting worse. His chest barely moved with each shallow breath. Alderheart, who was sitting beside him in the snow den, was growing more panicked with every moment that passed. Shadowpaw wished that he could reassure the ThunderClan medicine cat, but fear was growing inside him, too: the fear that he had been terribly wrong, and that his treatment was only hastening Bramblestar’s death.

“He’s too cold!” Alderheart cried out. “Isn’t there anything we can do to warm him?”

“No,” Shadowpaw responded. “The cold is supposed to cure him, letting the sickness work its way out.” He hoped that he sounded more confident than he felt.

Glancing around at the other cats, Shadowpaw could see his own doubt and anxiety reflected in every face. Even Puddleshine was looking uncomfortable.

“We took an oath as medicine cats,” Jayfeather growled. “How can we sit here and watch a cat die? Knowing we’re making him worse?”

“But we knew what would happen here,” Puddleshine replied; Shadowpaw could tell what an effort his words were costing him. “It’s just like when Alderheart cured my infection using deathberries. Bramblestar will get worse before he gets better—isn’t that what the vision said?”

Shadowpaw nodded firmly. “Yes, it did.”

“Then we must trust this young cat, as we all agreed,” Puddleshine meowed. “As Squirrelflight—your own deputy, Jayfeather—agreed.”

Jayfeather’s only response was a scowl, but he made no move toward the den where the ThunderClan leader lay dying.

Shadowpaw closed his eyes, willing StarClan to send him more: another vision, another detail, anything to help convince him that this was right. I’m supposed to help cats avoid death, he thought. But this time, am I chasing a cat toward his death?

Behind his closed eyelids he saw a huge star exploding over the lake, splintering into countless glittering shards, which hung in the sky for a heartbeat and then faded into darkness. There is a darkness in the Clans, he repeated to himself.

Shadowpaw started as he felt some cat jostling him in his side. He opened his eyes to see Puddleshine staring at him. “Are you asleep?” his mentor asked.

Blinking, Shadowpaw realized that the moon was lower in the sky than when he had last seen it. I was asleep—and that must have been a dream.

Jumping up, Shadowpaw padded into the snow den to check on Bramblestar. When he stretched out a paw and laid it gently on his chest, he felt that the ThunderClan leader was as cold as before.

Then an even deeper cold spread beneath Shadowpaw’s pelt and invaded his whole body.

Bramblestar isn’t breathing!

Shadowpaw let out a gasp. Forcing back panic, he rested his paw on Bramblestar’s muzzle, then thumped his paws down on his chest, as if he might startle him back to life. But Bramblestar never stirred. Shadowpaw felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the tiny den, and an agonizing pain pierced his chest, as if claws were trying to rip him apart from the inside.

I killed him—I killed Bramblestar!

Forcing his legs to move, Shadowpaw backed out of the den and turned around. I never thought I would kill him—I never thought he would die! StarClan didn’t warn me. . . .

Puddleshine was standing nearby, searching Shadowpaw’s gaze. Shadowpaw could see his mentor read his expression, and flinched as the hope in Puddleshine’s eyes changed to disappointment.

“Is he gone?” Puddleshine whispered.

Shadowpaw tried to speak, but he found he couldn’t make the words come out of his mouth. But StarClan . . .

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.

Puddleshine ducked into the den to check on Bramblestar one last time, while Tigerstar scraped the snow with his claws in agitation. “We should go,” he continued. “We should go now.” As Puddleshine reappeared he signaled to him impatiently with his tail. “Come on. Hurry.”

“I’d like to wait and speak to Squirrelflight,” Dovewing protested. “I know my sympathy won’t do her much good, but still . . .”

“No, it’s not safe,” Tigerstar retorted. “The ThunderClan cats might turn on us. We’re on unfamiliar territory, and if they come up from their camp, they’ll outnumber us. We need to leave now. You’re ShadowClan, Dovewing; don’t forget that.”

Dovewing stared sorrowfully at her mate, but didn’t argue. The ShadowClan cats were turning to leave when Shadowpaw heard a terrible wailing.

“No! I came back for you, and you left me!”

Squirrelflight had arrived, flinging herself into the den beside the body of her mate.

Shadowpaw felt as though he would shatter into tiny pieces, like the star over the lake in his dream.

What have I done?