Stolen (Book 1 of the Outcast Quartet)

Chapter 19 (Juniperpaw)

I padded slowly out of my den, my mind reflecting over the latest lesson I had in my dreams. The night after Softheart’s death, ancient StarClan medicine cats had began to visit my dreams in order to teach me what I needed to know to successfully keep my Clan healthy. But despite their teaching me, I still had trouble recalling what I needed to know and every morning I found myself waking up barely remembering the latest session.

            I ignored the warm good mornings my Clan mates directed at me as I stalked towards the camp’s exit. If I had more knowledge I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else dying, if I had more knowledge I might have prevented Softheart dying. No I can’t focus on that, her death is in the past and I must move on. I slipped out of the camp and allowed my paws to take me wherever they wanted as my thoughts wondered. I don’t want to fail anyone else, I want the Clan to know that they can entrust their lives in my paws.

            I halted when I felt my throat close up, my breathing turned to sharp rasps and my vision blurred. Not… now… I struggled to breathe as I slowly collapsed to the ground, my whole body shaking as I fought to inhale. It’s worse than usual, the thought flashed through my mind as it slowly shut down. It’s never this bad. Then I slipped into unconsciousness.

            I stood  on rippling white mist, all around me purple and green lights glowed faintly. Where was I? I tried to walk forward on but my limbs were stone heavy and would not budge. Why couldn’t I move? That’s when I noticed my heart wasn’t beating, and I didn’t have to breathe. Fear shot through me, was I dead? But if I was, why wasn’t I in StarClan? “This is just a dream,” I whispered, relieved that I could at least talk. “When I wake up, I’ll be just fine.”

            The air in front of me started to shift and a blurry figure started to take shape. It continued to become more solid until I could distinguish the shape of a cat with glowing silver eyes. It examined me thoughtfully before smiling, revealing a row of sharp teeth. “Greetings, worm,” I flinched at the gravelly voice that emitted from the cat of mist. “Tell me, do you want to continue to live?”
            I studied it thoughtfully, what did it mean? “Yes, wouldn’t anyone?” Why would it ask something like that? Was I truly… no I’m not dead, this is just a dream… a nightmare due to my illness.

            “Then I can give you life, but you must pay a price,” it spoke. “We must make an equivalent trade.”

            “What must I give up?” I asked suspiciously.

            “Nothing too major,” the shadowy figure shrugged, brushing off my question as if it was no importance.

            “And if I don’t give up what you want?”

            “You die.”

            I took in a shuddery breath before murmuring. “Very well.”

I opened my eyes to find myself lying stiffly on the forest floor, it was cold and shadows danced through the trees. It was night… how had the time passed so quickly? My dream had felt like only a few heart-beats had passed, but instead it had lasted to moon-high. I scrambled to my feet, the Clan will be worried.

            Taking a step, I suddenly froze as I noticed how still my heart was. Why wasn’t it beating. Sitting back down, I pressed a paw against my chest, there was no gentle rhythm of a pounding heart. There was nothing… “What happened?” I whispered hoarsely, blinking my eyes a couple of times as everything sunk in. That nightmare wasn’t just a dream… I was supposed to die, but I hadn’t. Swallowing down the rising hysteria that threatened to explode out, I stood back on shaky legs.

            That wasn’t it though, my right ear failed to pick up any sounds. All I got was complete silence, even though my left could hear perfectly fine. The same was with my eyes, my right was capable of seeing the dark forest around me while my left saw only darkness. “Was that the trade?” I wondered to myself, trying to keep a calm, rational mind despite my increasing panic. “I just traded over the sight of one of my eyes and the hearing of one of my ears,” but was that really worth a life? No, I must have given something else up… but what?