A hard lump formed in Bristlepaw’s belly, colder than the icy wind, but she managed to dip her head respectfully. “I understand,” she choked out.
Rosepetal stretched out her neck and touched her nose gently to her apprentice’s ear. “Let’s go back to camp,” she meowed, “and find you something from the fresh-kill pile.”
Bristlepaw followed her, holding her head high and struggling not to let her disappointment show. I failed for the first time in my life—and it wasn’t my fault! She wondered what she would say to her littermates, after they had been so encouraging, sure she would return to camp a warrior. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice movement ahead of her until Stemleaf bounded up to her and flicked her shoulder with his tail.
“Hey, how’s our new warrior?” he asked.
Bristlepaw had thought it wasn’t possible to feel any worse, but at the orange-and-white tom’s friendly greeting she thought her heart was going to burst. She couldn’t find words to answer him.
“Bristlepaw didn’t pass,” Rosepetal told Stemleaf. “She did everything right, but there just wasn’t any prey to be had.”
“That’s really bad luck.” Stemleaf blinked sympathetically at Bristlepaw. “But don’t worry. It’s just this StarClan-cursed snow. You’ll pass easily once the warmer weather comes.”
Bristlepaw could hardly bear to look at Stemleaf, much less talk to him, especially when he was being so kind and encouraging. It’ll be such a long time now before we can be mates, the strongest pair in the Clan. And there must be lots of other she-cats who would like to be with him.
As soon as Bristlepaw padded through the thorn tunnel into the stone hollow, she heard Flippaw let out a welcoming squeal. Both he and Thriftpaw came barreling across the camp toward her, only to skid to a halt before they reached her. Bristlepaw guessed that her expression must have shown that something had gone wrong.
“What happened?” Thriftpaw asked, her eyes wide with concern.
Bristlepaw watched Rosepetal padding across the camp on her way to tell Bramblestar about her assessment. “I failed,” she replied, not meeting her littermates’ gaze. “There wasn’t any prey. I looked and looked.”
“It’s okay,” Flippaw murmured, pressing himself against Bristlepaw’s side. “You did your best.”
“Yeah,” Thriftpaw added. “You’re still a warrior to us—the best!”
Even though Bristlepaw was still frustrated at how things had turned out, she was grateful for her littermates’ comfort. Today was going to be such a great day, she thought, and it’s turned out to be a disaster.
Chapter 7
Wind drove the clouds across the night sky, so that the waxing half-moon shed only a fitful light through the gaps. Puddleshine and Shadowpaw huddled together as they trudged forward against the blast, trying to preserve every scrap of warmth in their pelts. Shadowpaw narrowed his eyes against the harsh wind whipping into his face, and snuffed up the scent of more snow to come.
I hope we’ll be able to share dreams with StarClan this time, he thought worriedly. That would prove I’m not keeping them away.
Since the last half-moon meeting at the Moonpool, life in ShadowClan had gotten even tougher. There was never enough prey; cats were getting sick because of the cold and lack of food, and every cat’s nerves were on edge. Sooner or later, Shadowpaw knew, fights between Clanmates would become the norm.
We need StarClan to guide us, even if all they can do is promise us that this terrible leaf-bare will end soon.
The other medicine cats were already huddling for warmth by the Moonpool when Puddleshine and Shadowpaw stumbled down the spiral path.
“Greetings,” Mothwing meowed, dipping her head gracefully. “I’m sorry we didn’t wait for you outside, it’s just so cold. How is the prey running in ShadowClan?”
“It’s not running at all,” Puddleshine replied with an edge of bitterness to his tone. “I think every mouse and vole in the territory is tucked up in its hole, sniggering at us.”
“ThunderClan is just as bad,” Alderheart agreed, while Jayfeather simply lashed his tail once and did not speak.
“At least you have shelter from the trees,” Kestrelflight pointed out. “Up on the moor, the wind is strong enough to blow cats off their paws. I had to set Larkwing’s dislocated shoulder when she lost her balance and fell down into a gully.”
“And RiverClan can’t fish when the lake is frozen,” Willowshine added. “I’ve almost forgotten what fish tastes like!”
Shadowpaw saw that Frecklewish and Fidgetflake from SkyClan were looking faintly embarrassed. “I know we have it easier,” Frecklewish admitted. “The valley shelters our territory, so while prey is scarce, we’re clearly not suffering as badly as the rest of you.” She cleared her throat. “If we could help you, we would.”
Puddleshine let out a snort. “SkyClan’s most sheltered area used to be in our territory,” he grumbled, his voice low but loud enough to be heard by the SkyClan cats, who stared at their paws and didn’t respond. “We’d be in better shape now if we hadn’t given it away.”
Any more complaints that the medicine cats might have made were silenced by Jayfeather, who glared around from his sightless blue eyes. “If you’re quite finished,” he snapped, “perhaps we could make contact with StarClan. That is why we’re here, yes?”
Exchanging anxious murmurs, every cat began to move toward the edge of the Moonpool. Oh, StarClan, please don’t leave us alone, Shadowpaw prayed desperately. We need you so much!
He hadn’t looked at the Moonpool until now, and when he did, he let out a gasp of mingled shock and awe. The stream that fed the pool was frozen into a cascade of icicles that glittered when the uncertain moonlight fell upon them. The whole surface of the pool was frozen, too.
“I’m sure this has never happened before,” Mothwing mewed, blinking unhappily at the sheet of solid ice. “Not even in that dreadful leaf-bare when Flametail died.”
With the rest of the medicine cats, Shadowpaw stretched out his neck and bent his head to touch his nose to the ice. Cold stabbed through him like a thorn. He closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, he was still crouching in the icy darkness beside the pool. He hadn’t been transported to the warm territory of StarClan, and there was no sign that the warriors of StarClan were trying to reach them here. Raising his head to gaze around, Shadowpaw couldn’t even see the hazy shapes that had appeared at the previous meeting, or hear their distant voices.
“Oh, StarClan, where are you?” Frecklewish exclaimed, her voice shaking as she echoed Shadowpaw’s silent prayer. “Please come to us—we need you!”
Mothwing moved back from the pool and sat with her forepaws neatly together, her amber eyes gleaming. “We can cope,” she assured Frecklewish kindly. “We don’t need guidance from StarClan when we still have our common sense. We’ll get through this.”
Jayfeather scowled at her. “What a surprise that you’re not worried,” he muttered bitterly.
“What does that mean?” Mothwing asked, her eyes wide.
“It means that you’ve never believed in StarClan, so it’s no loss to you,” Jayfeather hissed.
Shadowpaw stared at the ThunderClan medicine cat as gasps of surprise rippled through the others. Puddleshine had told Shadowpaw that the RiverClan medicine cat didn’t believe in StarClan, but it had never been spoken of during a half-moon meeting.