Эрин Хантер - Lost Stars

“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.

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!”