Shimmerwing lashed her claws out at the escaping water vole, grabbing it in her paw before killing it with a swift nip to its neck. The water vole fell to the ground, and Shimmerwing picked it up to add to the pile of dead voles she had been collecting. This river is really a great area for hunting, she thought to herself.
It had been a moon since the attack by the dog in RiverClan camp. Shimmerwing had been concerned when Dapplestar had told the two young she-cats that she wanted them to redeem themselves, but Dapplestar had never brought it up after. Shimmerwing looked around, wondering if there were more voles to be found.
Thumping paws on the ground made Shimmerwing turn around. Sharpfang's sleek fur came into view, and he skidded to a halt in front of her, his triangular face taking up most of her vision. Shimmerwing stepped back and waved her tail. It was time to make amends with Sharpfang. "Look, Sharpfang! I caught all these voles. The Clan will eat well tonight."
"Shimmerwing!" Sharpfang exclaimed, his voice rife with fear, something foreign to the always composed RiverClan warrior. "Minnowflight has fallen in the river. I need your help!"
"What?" Shimmerwing leaped to her paws, bristling with horror. "Where?"
"Near the waterfall," Sharpfang explained. "I told her not to go in by herself, but she insisted! You must help me save her, Shimmerwing. We don't have much time! She already looked so weak." The tom's voice was trembling.
"I'm coming," Shimmerwing promised the dark gray tabby before taking off. She could feel Sharpfang running behind her, and as the two cats quickened her pace, Shimmerwing could see a bundle of dark gray fur in the stream.
"Minnowflight!" Sharpfang howled. "We're here to help."
"Oh, great StarClan!" Shimmerwing yowled in horror. "She looks nearly dead!" The sight of her apprentice, soaked to the core, drifting in the river like a dead squirrel made Shimmerwing leap into the water. A loud gasp escaped her as the freezing water immediately chilled her to her bones. She paddled hard against the furious current, shrieking in pain as it sent her near a particularly sharp rock. The rock gashed her leg, and Shimmerwing could feel blood gushing from the wound and turning the water crimson. The heat from the wound stung furiously, making her endeavor harder.
A powerful wave swept over her, and her yowls of terror were choked by the freezing water. Coughing and spluttering, Shimmerwing realized the current was bringing her towards another acute rock. Shimmerwing looked up to spot a willow branch hanging lowly. She lifted her paws, desperately trying to sink her claws in the branch and haul herself up.
However, the current was just too powerful, pulling her downstream. Shimmerwing blinked the stinging water out of her eyes as she spotted Sharpfang's figure, following her as she was forced downstream. The prowling tom was staring at her, his amber eyes dark, and Shimmerwing realized she only had one choice if she wanted to live to see tomorrow.
"Sharpfang!" Shimmerwing cried out. Another wave took her underwater, cutting her cry off. Coughing out the water that was beginning to fill her lungs, Shimmerwing pulled herself back to the surface. She was beginning to panic now, and she felt herself slowly letting go of her will to live. But she had to try. "Sharpfang, help me!"
"Why don't you help yourself, dear deputy?" Sharpfang inquired, his voice as smooth as silk. The tom sat down, drawing his paw over his head.
"I'm going to drown!" Shimmerwing cried out, feeling the ache from her claws being ripped from their sheathes by the force of the roaring current pushing her back into the middle of the river.
Sharpfang's amber eyes bore into hers.
"Sharpfang!" Shimmerwing cried out. When Sharpfang didn't move, she finally let go, her claws lacking the strength to hold her up anymore. The intense current took her back into the middle of the river as more water filled up her lungs. She coughed again, spluttering out water. The river took her downstream, jamming into every rock and branch.
She was exhausted – the muscles in her body simply stopped responding, and no matter how hard she fought, she was too weak against the current. She felt a horrifying thud in her mind as her head hit against a jutting rock, and everything went black.
Some time had passed until Shimmerwing finally had the strength to open her eyes. Hazy, fuzzy visions of a rock filled gorge engulfed her field of sight. Where am I…? She tried to find the strength to get to her paws, but her body was limp, refusing to obey her mental commands. Every bone shrieked with agony, and she was unable to think straight, her head throbbing.
But there was one thing that brought her great relief. She was not dead, as the great amount of pain reminded her that she was still alive. How long have I been here? Shimmerwing's mouth felt completely dry, and as she tried to speak, nothing came out. What happened to me? She tried to think back about what happened to her that led her to this situation, but the last thing she could recall was ordering patrols around this morning. Why can't I remember?
The horror of being unable to remember made Shimmerwing's plastered fur stick up on her spine. Something happened to me, and I can't remember it. Terror swamped her body and made her unable to move. Her brain was in a gray fog, and no matter what she did, she couldn't seem to get it to work. Shimmerwing staggered forward, bile rising in her throat. As she gagged, floodwater spilled out of her mouth.
Finally, Shimmerwing's vision cleared, and she looked around, assessing her surroundings. She recognized the pebbles on the shore, the ones that she and Dapplestar used to play with as apprentices. She was near the waterfall, in RiverClan territory. At least I'm home. The tawny deputy wavered on her paws, unsure of what to do now. She didn't have the strength to move.
"Uh, Shimmerwing?" The deep, rugged voice was coming from behind her. Shimmerwing turned around to see the blurry face of a ginger-and-white tom. Although she could not put a name to the face, she could tell that he was a good friend. "Did you fall asleep here?"
"I… I don't know…" Shimmerwing croaked out, focusing on the cat's face until it cleared to show the battle scars on his body and his broad shoulders.
The tom padded over to her, resting her down and pressing on her chest until Shimmerwing vomited up the rest of the floodwater. Then, he hauled her up by her scruff. "Take a few breaths, lass."
"Runningflame." The name came to her as soon as the ginger-and-white tom placed his paws on her. "I… I don't feel good…"
"It's all right, lass." Runningflame gripped Shimmerwing and hauled her on his back. "We're going to camp."
Shimmerwing knew she would never allow herself to be carried. But she couldn't move on her own, and so she allowed Runningflame to hold onto her and bound away.
The wind buffeted around Shimmerwing's fur as Runningflame took off. She could feel the strength gradually return to her muscles but knew she wouldn't be able to move on her own. Runningflame set her down on the shore of the stream, before turning to grasp her scruff. He hauled her into the water, and Shimmerwing flinched at the sensation of the water. She flailed in Runningflame's grasp, wanting nothing to do with water, but Runningflame was having none of it, swimming with her regardless. He pulled her to shore, letting her sit down.
Shimmerwing coughed again, tears stinging her vision as Runningflame laid her on the sandy ground. Muffled voices echoed around her, and she couldn't focus hard enough to distinguish any of them. But she knew one thing – they were all talking about her. She was the talk of the cats, it seemed. She had no energy to be angry about it. All she wanted was to feel better. Shimmerwing felt her head hang over her chest.
"What happened to you?" Shimmerwing looked up to see Rippleheart addressing her personally. The tabby's blue eyes bore into Shimmerwing's face, concern etched on every line of his face.
"I don't know," Shimmerwing rasped.
Rippleheart paused. "Runningflame will take you to Starlingfern," he said. "We'll talk later. It'll be all right. You're strong. You'll be fine."
Shimmerwing said nothing as Runningflame picked her up again, hauling her to a bramble thicket. As Runningflame brought her inside, Shimmerwing could see Starlingfern pad away from the corners of the den and sit down next to Shimmerwing. Runningflame gave the two she-cats a brief nod before disappearing.
"Shimmerwing," Starlingfern meowed kindly. Feeling utterly miserable, Shimmerwing allowed the black-furred medicine to groom her damp pelt and pull out the debris from clumps of tawny fur. Even though her fur stung when Starlingfern pulled too hard, it was nothing compared to the rest of her body. Shimmerwing looked down at her legs, her eyes widening as she saw multiple gashes in her skin.
"How did I get those?" Shimmerwing asked out loud.
"What?" Starlingfern looked down. "Those?" The medicine cat pointed with her paw to the wounds on Shimmerwing's legs.
"Yes," Shimmerwing said. "I don't remember getting those at all. Actually… I don't remember anything." The same helplessness washed over the deputy as she stared at her wounds. What happened to me? Why can't I remember?
Starlingfern leaned closer to examine the wounds. The RiverClan medicine cat lapped at the broken tissue until they were clean. "Too jagged to be from claws, too rough to be done by teeth…" Starlingfern looked up at Shimmerwing. "These wounds weren't done from another cat."
"So how did I get them?" Shimmerwing asked, hearing the desperation in her tone.
"I don't know." Starlingfern shook her head side to side. "But that really isn't the most important thing I'm concerned about right now. You're in shock, Shimmerwing. Let me do the work. I'll clean your wounds and treat them. You need to rest."
"What if I never remember?" Shimmerwing asked Starlingfern, terrified.
Starlingfern shifted her paws uncertainly, and Shimmerwing caught the glimpse of fear in her eyes. She doesn't know, either. Am I alone in this? What happens to me if even the RiverClan medicine cat doesn't know?
"With time, I'm sure your memory will come back," Starlingfern meowed. "What was the last thing you remember, before being brought back to camp by Runningflame?"
"Ordering the morning patrol," Shimmerwing replied, her head pounding by how hard she was concentrating. "I ordered Rushfire to go with Driftheart and Thistleflame to mark WindClan's border."
"And who did you send to the ShadowClan border?" Starlingfern pressed.
"Iceshine, Swiftcloud, and Ravenwing," Shimmerwing replied. The same throbbing in her head became even more intense as she recalled the events of the morning.
"What happened after that?" Starlingfern asked.
"I… I think I went hunting," Shimmerwing replied, trying to think back. "I caught… voles, I think. But after that… I don't remember. Anything." The heart of the tawny warrior began to pound relentlessly. Something horrible had happened to her, she was sure of that. Had someone done something to her? Had she been in an accident that was primarily her fault? She stared at Starlingfern.
"It sounds to me like you're suffering from a concussion," Starlingfern told her. "I've never treated one myself, but Pale-eye did when she was younger."
"A concussion?" Shimmerwing echoed.
"It happens when someone's head is struck violently. Your head must've been injured in whatever accident you were in. Since your fur is still damp, I assume it must've happened near some sort of body of water. You hit your head against something sharp." Starlingfern pointed her paw to Shimmerwing's head. "There's a deep gash there, and on your legs, as well. You hit both parts of your body. Are you dizzy?"
Shimmerwing shut her eyes. Her head was whirling. "A little."
"And you've lost pieces of your memory," Starlingfern went on. "A concussion can affect you mentally and physically. I think that's what's happening."
"Will I ever get my memory back?" Shimmerwing inquired.
"Well, your memory isn't lost," Starlingfern pointed out mildly. "You just can't remember some things from before you were hurt. I… I don't know. We can try and look back at where you last were when you woke up. Maybe you'll remember if you're in the same place. Memory is a fickle thing. It comes back in pieces."
Shimmerwing broke into a hacking cough. Starlingfern's eyes widened, and she raced forward, steadying the large deputy until she finally calmed down. Finally, Shimmerwing turned to look at Starlingfern. "I don't know what happened," the RiverClan deputy meowed, "but I'm going to figure it out."