Lost Stars

Chapter 2

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Tallrock for a Clan meeting!”

Hearing Leafstar’s voice ring out clearly across the camp, Rootkit poked his head out of the nursery, then scampered out into the open. The SkyClan leader was standing on top of the massive boulder that reared up more than three tail-lengths in the center of the clearing. Its sides were blotched with yellow lichen. A split gaped open at the bottom; in the hollow space beyond it was where the Clan leader had her den.

As Rootkit hurried toward the Tallrock, another cat landed on top of him, carrying him off his paws and rolling him over on the pebbly surface of the camp floor. A joyful squeal sounded in his ear. “Got you!”

Not again, Needlekit! Rootkit thought with a sigh, recognizing his sister’s voice and her eyes gleaming a mouse-length from his own. Wriggling free, he gave her a swipe over her ear, keeping his claws sheathed.

“Give up, mouse-brain,” he meowed. “I want to hear what Leafstar has to say.”

Needlekit sat up, shaking dust and grit from her black-and-white pelt. “I know what she’s going to say,” she responded smugly.

“So do I,” Rootkit retorted.

Glancing around the camp, he saw more of his Clanmates emerging from their dens. Turtlepaw and Kitepaw pushed their way between the rocks that screened the apprentices’ den, then darted across the clearing to join their mentors, Blossomheart and Sagenose. The two warriors had just appeared from their den underneath the spreading branches of a massive hawthorn bush, closely followed by Plumwillow and the Clan deputy, Hawkwing. Frecklewish and Fidgetflake, the two medicine cats, looked up from where they were sorting herbs outside their den between two boulders at the far side of the camp.

“Do you know what day it is?”

Rootkit turned at the sound of his mother’s voice to see Violetshine standing a couple of paces away, her body trembling with a purr as she gazed at him with shining eyes.

“Of course I do,” Rootkit replied. “Needlekit and I are six moons old. Leafstar is going to make us apprentices.”

Excitement rose inside Rootkit as he spoke, but he thrust it down determinedly. Every kit became an apprentice, but he knew that if he wanted to become a warrior, he would have to focus on his training and learn everything his mentor had to teach him.

And I’m going to be the best warrior I can be!

“That’s right,” Violetshine responded to him. “And just look at you!” she added with a sigh. “Any cat would think you’d been dragged backward through a thorn thicket!”

Rootkit hunched his shoulders while his mother covered him with fierce licks, smoothing down his pelt. Meanwhile Needlekit gave herself a quick grooming and sat with her tail curled neatly around her forepaws.

“Cats of SkyClan,” Leafstar began when the whole Clan had assembled in a ragged half circle in front of the Tallrock. “This is an important day in the life of a Clan, when we make new apprentices.” She leaped down from the Tallrock and beckoned Rootkit with a swish of her tail. “Rootkit, come here, please.”

Suddenly feeling that his legs were wobbly and wouldn’t support him, Rootkit tottered forward until he stood in front of his Clan leader. Leafstar rested her tail on his shoulder.

“From this day forward,” she announced, “this apprentice will be known as Rootpaw. Dewspring, you are an efficient and loyal cat. You will be Rootpaw’s mentor, and I know you will pass your excellent qualities on to him.”

Rootpaw ducked his head respectfully to Leafstar and bounded across the circle of cats to join the sturdy gray tom, who waited for him with a pleased expression on his broad face. Stretching up to touch noses with him, Rootpaw mewed, “I’ll work really hard, I promise!”

“I’m sure you will,” Dewspring responded.

“Rootpaw! Rootpaw!”

Embarrassment flooded through Rootpaw as he heard the Clan acclaim him with his new name, but he felt strangely pleased, too. This is the real beginning of my life in the Clan.

He stood beside his mentor while Leafstar called Needlekit to her and gave her the name Needlepaw, apprenticing her to Reedclaw.

“Needlepaw! Needlepaw!” he yowled with the rest of his Clan.

Gazing around at the cats cheering for his sister, Rootpaw saw excitement in their shining eyes and waving tails, and encouragement for both of them as they stood at the beginning of their warrior training. This Clan is the best! It’s great to belong here!

Rootpaw’s happiness faded as he spotted his father, Tree, sitting at the edge of the circle with his paws tucked under him and an expression of curious, almost amused, detachment.

Isn’t he proud of me? Doesn’t he care that I’ve just been made an apprentice?

But Rootpaw reflected that the detached air was just typical of his father. Tree always seemed bemused by Clan life, as though, even after living among them for so many moons, he still didn’t really understand them.

“Hey, congratulations!” Kitepaw bounded over to Rootpaw and gave him a friendly shove. “You’re one of us now.”

Rootpaw ducked his head. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, your mother looks really proud,” Turtlepaw added, coming to join them with Needlepaw beside her. “Not so much your father, though.”

Her tone was teasing, but the comment pierced Rootpaw like a thorn, all the sharper because he had just been thinking the exact same thing. His fur bristled with indignation.

“Tree is proud of us,” he insisted. “He just has a funny way of showing it.”

Needlepaw’s fur was bushing up, too, and she narrowed her eyes as she glared at Turtlepaw. “Not every cat has to be the same,” she hissed.

“Keep your fur on,” Kitepaw meowed. “Turtlepaw was only joking. You have to admit, your father is weird.”

“Weird is good!” Needlepaw flashed back at him. “Tree’s the best cat in the forest at settling quarrels.” Tree had been designated the Clans’ mediator, the only one in all five Clans.

“He hasn’t done that lately, though, has he?” Kitepaw asked.

“That’s because there haven’t been any quarrels,” Rootpaw retorted. “We’re at peace with the other Clans. And we have Tree to thank for a lot of that.”

“If you say so,” Kitepaw mewed good-humoredly. “Come on, let’s go to our den and we’ll help you make nests.”

Rootpaw relaxed a little, letting his fur lie flat. He was about to follow Kitepaw and Turtlepaw when he remembered that he ought to ask his mentor for permission first. He turned to Dewspring, but before he could speak, the gray tom gave him a brisk nod.

“When you’ve done that,” he instructed, “help yourself to a piece of fresh-kill, and then come and find me. We’ll do your first tour of the territory.”

“You too,” Reedclaw, who was standing close by, added to Needlepaw. “We’ll all go together.”

“Great!” Needlepaw squealed, then ducked her head, clearly embarrassed at behaving like a kit.

She bounded across the camp, hard on the paws of Turtlepaw and Kitepaw, and Rootpaw headed after them.

When they had made nests for themselves in their new den, Rootpaw and Needlepaw sat crouched beside the fresh-kill pile. Rootpaw spotted Tree, who finally rose to his paws and strolled toward them. He had to pass the entrance to the nursery, where Bellaleaf and Wrenkit were drowsing in the pale leaf-bare sunlight. Rootpaw noticed that as Tree passed, Wrenkit jumped up, shivering, and pressed herself closer to her mother’s side. Bellaleaf wrapped her tail around her kit’s shoulders and followed Tree with a hostile green glare as he padded past.

I know what that’s about! Rootpaw thought, stifling a groan.

He couldn’t blame Bellaleaf for not liking Tree and keeping her kit away from him. Wrenkit was the only one of Bellaleaf’s litter who’d survived. The sadness had been felt across the whole Clan, and it had only been made worse when Tree insisted that the two unnamed kits who had died were still close to Wrenkit, watching over her. Wrenkit had been terrified, and the rest of the Clan had been annoyed with Tree.

And I’d never been so embarrassed in my life!

“So, apprentices now,” Tree remarked as he joined Rootpaw and Needlepaw and began scanning the fresh-kill pile for a juicy piece of prey.

“Yes, it’s great!” Needlepaw, who hadn’t spotted Wrenkit’s reaction, looked up from the blackbird she was devouring. “We’re going to tour the territory when we’ve eaten.”

“Good,” Tree mewed. “Remember what I’ve told you about fighting foxes.”

“Yes!” Needlepaw let out a little mrrow of laughter. “Don’t!”

Rootpaw kept his gaze firmly fixed on his mouse. Why can’t Tree give us some useful advice, like other fathers?

A moment later he felt a paw prodding him in the side. “What’s the matter with you?” Tree asked.

“Nothing,” Rootpaw mumbled, taking another bite of fresh-kill.

“And hedgehogs fly,” his father retorted. “Come on, tell me.”

Rootpaw let out a sigh, knowing that Tree wouldn’t give up until he explained himself. “It’s just . . . the way Wrenkit acts around you,” he muttered. “You shouldn’t have told her about seeing her dead littermates. She’s so little; it just freaked her out.”

“I thought it would help,” Tree responded, shaking his head in exasperation. “I thought she’d like to know that they were still close to her, watching over her, until they left to go to StarClan.”

“She didn’t understand!” Rootpaw snapped. Unable to stop himself, he added, “Other cats don’t say weird stuff like that!”

He glanced up at his father and saw a hurt look in Tree’s eyes. “I raised you to think for yourself,” Tree meowed. “I don’t want you just going along blindly with the ways of the Clan. They’re good ways, but they’re not the answer to everything.”

Rootpaw didn’t respond, but just gulped down the last scraps of his mouse. He knew his father was wrong with every hair on his pelt, but he couldn’t find the words to explain why. I hope my apprenticeship goes quickly, he thought. He couldn’t wait to be a warrior and prove that he was totally committed to his Clan. When they see that I’m not like my father, maybe my Clanmates will stop treating me like I’m weird too.

Rootpaw scrambled to his paws, shaking drops of dew from his pelt. Strands of mist still floated among the trees, and the grass in the clearing was heavy with moisture.

Not the best morning for Dewspring to show me his fighting moves! We’ll get soaked to the bone.

Two days had passed since Rootpaw and Needlepaw had been made apprentices, and Rootpaw had been excited to go out at dawn with his sister and their mentors for their first session of battle training. But it wasn’t working out how he had hoped.

“Let’s try it again,” Dewspring meowed, “and remember what I told you. If a cat has you pinned down, the best way to escape is to go limp. Let your opponent think you’ve given up. Then explode out of their grip, as fast as you can. Okay?”

Rootpaw nodded. “Okay.”

Dewspring leaped at him, knocking him off his paws, then held him down with one paw on his neck and another on his back. Rootpaw let himself go limp. But as he prepared to spring upward, he heard a yowl of triumph from across the clearing. Kitepaw and Turtlepaw were training with their mentors, leaping and twisting in the air. Kitepaw had just managed to knock Turtlepaw’s paws from under her and land on top of her with his jaws at her throat.

“Well done,” his mentor, Sagenose, praised him.

I’ll never be able to do that, Rootpaw thought.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Dewspring’s voice held an edge of irritation. “Your opponent has had time to claw your fur off.”

“Sorry,” Rootpaw muttered.

He waited for a couple of heartbeats and then powered upward with all his strength. But instead of leaping clear of his mentor, he flopped clumsily back to the ground, jerked downward by Dewspring, who had both his paws firmly fixed on his tail, trapping him.

Just like the other times I tried it, Rootpaw thought, giving his pelt a shake as Dewspring released him. It’s all Kitepaw’s fault. I could do it if I weren’t distracted.

He felt even worse as he saw Needlepaw hurl herself into the air, flip Reedclaw away from her, and land on all four paws with a triumphant lash of her tail.

“That’s enough for now,” Dewspring meowed; Rootpaw could hear the weariness in his voice. “We’ll try it again tomorrow when you’re ready to pay attention. Meanwhile, you and Needlepaw can practice together.”

Rootpaw just nodded, too embarrassed to say anything.

“Hey, Dewspring!” Blossomheart called from the other side of the clearing. “If you’ve finished your training session, do you want to go hunting?”

“Sure,” Dewspring replied, with a glance at Reedclaw. “We’re all done here.”

His pelt hot with shame, Rootpaw watched as the four mentors went off together. Needlepaw padded up to him and touched her nose briefly to his shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” she murmured. “Let’s practice. You’ll get it soon.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get it,” Rootpaw responded bitterly.

“You’re waiting too long.” Turtlepaw’s voice broke into the conversation as she and Kitepaw crossed the clearing to join Rootpaw and Needlepaw. “And you have to be sure that you don’t brace your muscles before you leap. That warns your opponent what you’re going to do.”

Rootpaw gave her a nod of thanks, but before he could reply, Kitepaw interrupted him.

“Or you might just decide to follow a different path in life,” the older apprentice added, a sparkle of malice in his eyes.

“What do you mean by that?” Rootpaw asked, his pelt beginning to prickle with hostility.

“Maybe the reason you’re having such problems with training is that you’re not meant to be a warrior. Maybe you’re meant to be the kind of cat who talks to dead cats. After all, your father has his ‘ways,’ right?” Kitepaw sounded amused.

Fury swelled inside Rootpaw, and he felt his shoulder fur bushing up. He drew his lips back in a snarl. “Don’t talk to me like that!”

“Or else what?” Kitepaw taunted him.

Rootpaw took a pace forward. “Or else I’ll claw your ears off!”

“Hey!” Turtlepaw shouldered her way between the two toms. “You’ll get in trouble for fighting. And it’s not like you’d win,” she added sneeringly to Rootpaw.

Her mockery stripped away the last of Rootpaw’s self-control. Letting out a furious screech, he launched himself at the tortoiseshell she-cat. He heard Needlepaw yowl his name, but he ignored her, sliding out his claws and stretching his forepaws to swipe at Turtlepaw.

His blow never landed. Turtlepaw sidestepped quickly and hooked Rootpaw’s paws out from under him; he thumped to the ground, the breath driven out of his body. Turtlepaw stood over him, her forepaws on his neck and belly.

Rootpaw let out a furious hiss, then went limp, remembering the move Dewspring had demonstrated. But when he tried to leap upward, he only crashed back down, and twisted around to see Turtlepaw with her paws on his tail and a smug expression on her face.

“You should know better than to attack us,” she mewed. “We’re older than you, and better fighters. And don’t lash out at us just because Kitepaw is right. Maybe you should go be weird somewhere else!”

She stood back, letting Rootpaw scramble to his paws. He felt as though his fur were on fire with anger and embarrassment, even though none of the warriors had seen Turtlepaw overpower him.

“I will become a strong warrior,” he insisted. “I’ll be important to the Clan. I’m not weird.” Not like Tree, he added to himself.

The two older apprentices exchanged a knowing look.

“Okay, if you want to prove yourself, maybe you can help us,” Kitepaw suggested.

“Rootpaw, no!” Needlepaw padded up to his side. “Dewspring told you to practice,” she added urgently. “You don’t want to get mixed up with these stupid furballs. They’ll only trick you somehow.”

Part of Rootpaw’s mind told him that his sister was right. But he could just imagine the taunts he would receive from the two older apprentices if he backed down now.

“I can take care of myself,” he spat. “Okay, Kitepaw, what do you want me to do?”

“We’re going on an expedition down to the lake,” Kitepaw replied. “There are supposed to be herbs down there that Frecklewish and Fidgetflake need for their stores. If we can get some, we’ll show we’re ready to be warriors—maybe we’ll even be given our warrior names! Are you brave enough to come with us?”

“Sure I am,” Rootpaw responded.

“Rootpaw, don’t be a mouse-brain,” Needlepaw begged. “You’ll only get into trouble if Dewspring finds out.”

Rootpaw felt a worm of uncertainty stir in his belly. Dewspring is fed up with me already—I don’t want to make things worse. But then he saw the gleam of mockery in the eyes of the older apprentices. “I don’t care,” he told his sister. “Besides, Dewspring won’t find out. Not unless you tell him.”

Needlepaw looked hurt at the idea that she would give him away. “I won’t,” she mewed. “But I think you’ve got bees in your brain.”

Turning away, she stalked off in the direction of the camp. For a heartbeat Rootpaw wanted to go after her, to tell her he was sorry for upsetting her. But he knew he couldn’t back down in front of the other apprentices.

“Okay, let’s go,” Kitepaw ordered.

Rootpaw followed the reddish-brown tom as he headed toward the lake, with Turtlepaw bringing up the rear. With every paw step he felt the air grow colder and colder. He couldn’t help shivering, as if icy claws were probing deep into his fur.

“Are you a scaredy-mouse?” Turtlepaw teased him. “Do you want to go back to the nice warm nursery?”

“I’m not scared,” Rootpaw insisted, glaring at her over his shoulder. “I’m just cold.”

“Sure you are,” Turtlepaw retorted with a mrrow of laughter.

However, though he would have rather died than admit it, Rootpaw couldn’t help feeling daunted when he and the other apprentices emerged from the trees and stood on the top of a bank that sloped down toward the lakeshore. A gray waste of water lay in front of him, whipped into waves by the icy wind that swept over it. At the water’s edge the gray was turning to white as the lake froze, the ice stretching several tail-lengths from the pebbly beach.

“Right,” Rootpaw meowed. “Let’s start looking for these herbs.”

He flattened himself to the ground and crept forward to look underneath a straggly thornbush where he could spot some surviving green growth, only to halt a moment later at the sound of a snort of laughter from behind him. He wriggled around to face the other apprentices.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kitepaw asked, his tail curling up with amusement. “We haven’t told you what we’re looking for, so how do you think you’re going to find it?”

Another hot wave of embarrassment swept over Rootpaw, almost banishing the chill from the wind. “I’m only trying to be helpful,” he protested indignantly, scrambling out from beneath the bush. “If all you can do is mock, you can find your own herbs!”

He spun around, intending to storm off back to camp, but Kitepaw intercepted him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Can’t you take a bit of teasing? What sort of warrior are you going to be if you get upset at something as trivial as that?”

Rootpaw dug his claws deep into the ground. Every muscle in his body was taut with fury, and he wanted more than anything to hurl himself at Kitepaw and wipe the sneering look off his face. But he realized that the older apprentice was deliberately goading him.

He probably enjoyed seeing me beaten when I attacked Turtlepaw, and he wants to see it again. Well, I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.

Rootpaw’s heart was thumping in his chest from tension and fury as he raised his head, summoning every scrap of dignity, and stepped carefully around Kitepaw on his way back to camp. He felt vulnerable, standing up to an older cat, and though he wanted to swipe his claws across Kitepaw’s muzzle, he knew that he would lose.

And if Dewspring heard about that, I’d be in trouble for sure!

“That’s right!” Turtlepaw called after him. “Sneak back into the nursery! Go and tell your mother that the horrid cats were nasty to you!”

“Are you sure you’re smart and brave enough to be a warrior?” Kitepaw added. “Don’t you think you’d be better off going to talk to invisible dead cats?”

Hot rage overwhelmed Rootpaw, burning up his resolve of a few moments before. He whipped around. “I’ll show you I’m fit to be a warrior!” he yowled, charging straight at the other two apprentices with teeth bared and claws unsheathed.

Kitepaw and Turtlepaw dodged out of his way. Rootpaw was running so fast that he couldn’t stop himself; he sped past them and down the bank toward the lake. Struggling to slow down, to halt, he felt his paws patter on the stretch of pebbles at the water’s edge, then skid out onto the ice. He tried to dig in his claws as he slid toward the water, but he could only gaze in horror as he saw cracks open up on the surface. He flinched at the freezing touch of dark water welling up around his paws. A heartbeat later he let out a screech of terror as the ice gave way and he plunged down into the lake.