Birchcloud gasped, her tears falling freely.
Frostfire’s feathers twitched. He was anxious to seek revenge on Snow Herd for his stolen aunt. “But you know Petalcloud won’t send her back. She cut all her ties with Mountain Herd when she left. She’s our enemy.”
Birchcloud sagged. “I know, and Twistwing isn’t stupid. Once he realizes who he’s kidnapped, he’ll understand the consequences.” She closed her eyes. “Returning Shadepebble would admit error, so he won’t do that. Killing her would be his own death sentence, and keeping her will begin a war—he’s backed himself against a tree, unless war is what he wants.” Birchcloud opened her eyes and moaned with despair. “Did Hedgewind fight for her?”
“No,” sneered Frostfire, lashing his tail. “He hid with the students and let them get away with her.”
Birchcloud glared at Rockwing, her green feathers standing on end. “I told you one instructor is not enough to protect—”
“Hush!” Rockwing neighed, raising his wing. Frostfire knew the two leaders argued often about flight school. Birchcloud had never understood why one instructor took so many yearlings out flying by himself. In light of Shadepebble’s capture, her concerns now made terrifying sense.
Rockwing’s eyes refocused on Frostfire. “What’s done is done. She’s gone, and Hedgewind will be punished.” He grimaced. “And you’re correct about Petalcloud. She’ll kill her sister before she’ll return her. We don’t have much time to get Shadepebble back.”
Frostfire pricked his ears. Rockwing had taken the mightiest warriors after conquering Sun Herd. His army was stronger than ever. They could attack in force and rescue Shadepebble. “I’ll gather my division of the army,” said Frostfire, his pulse thumping at the thought. “I’ll have her back in three days, maybe five.”
“No, that won’t do.” Rockwing tossed his mane, his eyes hard and black. “A messenger mare arrived last night and is already on her way to Desert Herd. She said that plague has struck Snow Herd. They call it Blue Tongue, and it’s why they’re stealing yearlings in the first place. They’re trying to replenish the herd. I can’t risk exposing your division. We need to send a smaller group.”
“A plague?” Birchcloud’s wings dropped to her sides, and she stared up at the sky. “Please protect Shadepebble,” she whinnied to the Ancestors, her voice rasping. “Leave me one foal.”
Rockwing waited for her to calm down, and then he said, “Please leave us to talk, Birchcloud, and don’t wail. You know I’ll get her back.”
Frostfire saw her body relax, but her eyes sharpen as she stared at her mate. “Don’t return without her,” she said.
Rockwing huffed and pointed at Frostfire. “I’m not going. He is.”
Birchcloud turned to him, and her eyes softened. She’d raised Frostfire from a weanling. “May the Ancestors be with you.” Birchcloud flew away without looking back.
“When do I leave?” asked Frostfire, looking at Rockwing.
“You’ll select a team and leave in the morning. Get in and get out. Avoid the sick pegasi, and that shouldn’t be too hard. Twistwing will keep Shadepebble guarded by herself, to keep her healthy.”
Frostfire didn’t like the idea of leading a small team into Snow Herd’s territory, but he understood why it had to be so.
Rockwing drew closer to Frostfire and lowered his voice. “This is only half of your mission.”
Frostfire’s heart trilled, and he leaned close to Rockwing, eager to hear the other half.
“I was going to send you this summer,” said Rockwing, “but now is the perfect opportunity. You’re going to kidnap that blue-winged filly Morningleaf from River Herd.”
Frostfire gaped. “The one Star brought back to life?”
“Yes. You’re going to hide her from him.”
“Why?” asked Frostfire.
“For land!” said Rockwing, his chest swelling. “I’m going to take Sun Herd’s territory before Star decides to claim it.”
Frostfire nodded. It seemed all of Anok was on hold, waiting for the black foal to make a move. It was difficult for a pegasus, let alone a warrior pegasus, to believe Star would remain content without a territory.
A gust of wind ruffled Rockwing’s mane. “I have the most powerful army in Anok, but the black foal, by himself, can destroy us all. I don’t think he’ll stand back and let me take his birth land and the territory of his mother’s grave when he has the power to stop me.” Rockwing glowered at Frostfire, shaking his head. “No. This black foal hasn’t even begun to use his starfire. I know the legends of Nightwing. I know what black foals are capable of. Star’s herd is homeless; he’s going to have to make a move for territory, and soon. But I also know his greatest weakness—and it’s that pesky filly.”
Frostfire agreed, but stealing Morningleaf meant taking a huge risk. Still, Frostfire often dreamed of the lush, green meadows Mountain Herd needed so desperately. While most mares in Anok birthed only several foals in their lifetime, Mountain Herd mares birthed a foal each year. It was a matter of extreme pride for the mares, and it was a custom that made Birchcloud’s failures that much more unbearable, but Frostfire saw other effects of the tradition. The Mountain Herd steeds were bursting to the very edges of their territory. They ravaged their grasslands, consumed thousands of birds’ eggs, and were often forced to eat weeds.
This season’s foals were thin, and they would make weak warriors in the future. Rockwing had to expand their land or starve, and Sun Herd’s territory was perfect. It was currently empty, and it bordered Mountain Herd’s western end. The rest of the lands surrounding Mountain Herd were either inhospitable or occupied by enemy herds.
But did they have to fight for it? wondered Frostfire. “Sir, we don’t know for sure that Star will take the Sun Herd lands back.”
Rockwing’s eyes glittered with malice. “Trust me, when he grows into his stallion blood, he’ll want his homeland back. And as long as we control Morningleaf, we can control him.”
Frostfire wasn’t sure it would be that simple.
Rockwing continued. “Shadepebble’s capture makes now the perfect time to leave. No herd will question a search party on the hunt for my filly. You will have an excuse to travel freely through Anok.”
Frostfire nodded. “That makes sense.”
Rockwing arched his neck, pleased. “My scouts tell me River Herd has traveled north to the Ice Lands. Choose six battle stallions and two sky herders to help you. You leave at dawn.”
10
THE REBELS
AT DAWN, FROSTFIRE AND HIS TEAM FLEW OUT of Canyon Meadow on their mission. Frostfire had chosen six stallions he trusted, ones he’d trained with in Rockwing’s army. Rounding out their group were the two agile mares trained as sky herders: Larksong and Darkleaf. He’d chosen them for their small sizes and fierce natures.
Frostfire knew the odds were high they would never return to Mountain Herd. He had seen the black foal up close the night Star received his power, and Frostfire was not fooled by the colt’s peaceful nature. Beneath that unflinching gentleness was a deep-burning fire. He’d seen the colt stuff it down when he chose not to execute Rockwing that night.
Others in Mountain Herd believed the black foal was good, and Frostfire was not blind to the secret gatherings that occurred late at night. The steeds who wanted to follow Star pretended to graze while plotting their escape. When they did, Rockwing hunted them down and executed them for treason. These rebels hoped Star was the healer, but Frostfire doubted it. And stealing Morningleaf might be just the thing that sends the black foal over the edge and in the wrong direction.
The shiny-feathered buckskin mare named Larksong flew at the head of the V formation. Frostfire and one of his stallions each took an end.
As they traveled, Frostfire watched miles of snow-flecked pine trees and smaller areas of aspen trees pass beneath his hooves. The visible terrain was heavily trampled from grazing, and it seemed every bit of edible vegetation had been consumed. The only good thin
g about this mission was that food would be more plentiful once they left their territory, at least until they reached the Ice Lands.
Frostfire hadn’t explained the details of their extra mission to his team yet. If he’d told them back home, he risked someone overhearing or one of his team members confiding in another steed. Kidnapping Morningleaf was too important and too exciting for most pegasi to keep a secret.
But after three days of flying by day and resting at night, Frostfire decided to inform them. They landed in a clump of fir trees near a narrow creek, where they would be shaded from the afternoon sun. Frostfire waited for his special team to drink. He flared his nostrils for the scent of predators but detected nothing unusual. Finally they sensed he was waiting for them, and they gathered to listen.
“It’s time I explained our mission,” Frostfire began. “I want you to know I chose each of you because I trust you and your abilities.”
“You said we were rescuing Shadepebble,” said the sky herder Larksong, her black eyes suspicious.
“We are, but that’s not all.” Frostfire looked at each one of his steeds. “We’re also going to kidnap a River Herd filly named Morningleaf.”
Each team member made an incredible effort not to react, except the youngest of the warriors. “Who’s Morningleaf?” he asked.
The others ignored him, each lost in thought. Frostfire understood. The consequences of this mission were unpredictable.
Darkleaf, the other sky-herding mare, answered the stallion’s question in a hushed tone. “Morningleaf is Star’s best friend, the filly he brought back to life.”
“Ohh,” he said in a long exhale.
“For what purpose are we taking her?” asked Larksong. She peered intently at Frostfire, her delicate muzzle blowing plumes of steam in the cold.
Frostfire balked at the forwardness of her question—he was her captain after all, but he also believed he owed his team an explanation. To target a specific steed for a kidnapping was not unheard of, but this one was Star’s friend—his best friend. “Rockwing plans to takeover Sun Herd’s territory. Stealing Morningleaf will ensure the black foal doesn’t stop us.”
One of the stallions grunted. “Stop us? He’ll kill us.”
Darkleaf nodded. “He’s not going to like us taking her.”
“Exactly,” said Larksong, pinning her ears. “But we have to do it. Rockwing is correct; Mountain Herd won’t survive another season in our small territory, and the Sun Herd lands are sitting empty, for now. We’ll die if we don’t claim them.”
Frostfire relaxed. Larksong’s support reassured the stallions, but Darkleaf did not look convinced. In fact, she was backing away from them.
“What’s wrong with you?” snapped Frostfire.
Her eyes were round and wild. “I can’t be part of this,” she whinnied.
Frostfire stepped toward her, and she hunched, flattening her ears. “It’s too late to turn back,” he neighed at her.
She trembled and said nothing.
Frostfire swished his tail, irritated. “Rockwing will end you if you abandon this mission.”
Darkleaf’s coiled muscles sprang, and she galloped into the sky.
“No!” Frostfire whinnied. “After her!” His team kicked off and chased Darkleaf over the tops of the trees. Frostfire gained on her easily and knocked her out of the fog with a swift, hard kick. She toppled through the branches and landed on a large boulder, squealing when her leg twisted on impact. Frostfire and his team landed next to her. “Have you gone mad?” he asked, stepping on her with one hoof so she couldn’t rise.
The mare was breathing hard, and Frostfire could see the whites of her eyes. “I won’t kidnap Morningleaf,” she whinnied, and then she bowed her head. “I believe in Star.”
“What? You’re a rebel?” How had Frostfire made such a mistake? He racked his brain, but he didn’t remember seeing her at any of the so-called secret gatherings. “Well, why didn’t you follow him when you had the chance?”
“I was afraid to leave Rockwing,” she said. “But I’m not afraid anymore.”
“You should be.” Frostfire stomped on her wing, breaking it. Her body quivered in pain, and sweat rolled down her hide. She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming.
Frostfire whipped around and faced his team. “Does anyone else here have a problem with kidnapping Morningleaf?” His eyes flamed with anger. “Tell me now.”
Larksong folded her wings neatly on her back. “Quite the opposite,” she said calmly. “I’m looking forward to it.” The rest of his team nodded their agreement.
“Return home,” he said to Darkleaf. With her broken wing and injured leg, he knew she would never make it. They’d flown over dozens of wolf tracks on their way here, and her fresh blood would call the packs to her. And if the wolves failed to come, the bears wouldn’t.
“That’s a death sentence,” whispered Larksong, but Frostfire ignored her.
They all watched Darkleaf limp away, broken winged but with her head held high. Frostfire considered the growing number of rebels in Mountain Herd and wondered if Star’s influence on the pegasi of Anok wasn’t perhaps more powerful than his starfire.
11
THE ICE LANDS
SEVERAL DAYS HAD PASSED SINCE STAR AND HIS friends returned to River Herd and gave the news that Twistwing had refused his healing power. “It doesn’t surprise me,” Thundersky had said, folding his crimson wings.
“What about Petalcloud?” asked Silverlake. “Didn’t she argue for the sake of her herd and the unborn foals?”
“She was even less interested than Twistwing,” said Dewberry, and Silverlake had huffed in anger.
Now Star, Bumblewind, and Dewberry were helping the River Herd steeds dig for roots in the frozen ground. Echofrost was practicing drills with Hazelwind. She hadn’t spoken to Star since he’d healed Brackentail. Star was crushed, but Morningleaf insisted he leave Echofrost alone, for now. The cause of the rift—Brackentail—stood by himself, closely watched by his guards.
“How are the mares doing?” Star asked Sweetroot. “The ones I healed?” She was nearby and busy uncovering a special plant she thought could be used for healing.
She looked up, beaming at him. “They’re doing well, and their unborn foals are kicking.” Sweetroot had quarantined the mares several miles away. Three stallions guarded them at a safe distance. “Their quarantine is over tomorrow.”
Bumblewind glanced around him. “Has anyone else showed signs of the plague?” he asked her.
“So far, no.”
Dewberry nudged him. “Your tongue looks a little blue.”
“What?” Bumblewind splayed his wings. “It does?”
Star rolled his eyes. “Bumblewind, she’s just teasing you again.”
Star heard the sudden fluttering of feathers and looked up to see Morningleaf flying stiffly across the tundra. He glanced at the sky and noticed that while they’d been digging for roots, a storm had amassed over the Hoofbeat Mountains. Snow drifted from the darkened, large clouds, and a bitter wind blew it sideways.
Morningleaf landed beside them. “I can’t feel my muzzle,” she complained. Her aqua feathers were dusted with frost, and her eyes had watered during her flight, causing frozen rivulets of tears down her cheeks. She blinked snowflakes off her eyelashes. “I’ve been looking for you all. This storm is moving fast.” She pointed her wing toward the nearest section of the mountain range. “My father and I found shelter there, to the east. It’s an ice cave. It won’t hold all of us, but we can fit the new foals and the elders inside. The rest of us can group together under the trees.”
Star disliked caves. He’d lived in one with Crabwing when he was a weanling, and Star never wanted to live in another. But it sounded like the best—the only—option for River Herd if they wanted to survive the burgeoning arctic storm. “Let’s move,” he said.
Star and Morningleaf proceeded to gather the River Herd pegasi. Dewberry set out in search of Silverlake. She’d been
appointed as a sentry, and it was her turn to patrol the skies. Bumblewind followed her.
Star was saddened by the desolate appearance of the River Herd steeds. Despair had drifted upon them like snowflakes, soft and light at first but then filling every crevice until all other feelings were buried, trapped by the sheer weight of their gloom. The pegasi huddled in miserable, shivering clumps, warming one another as best they could. Their breath rose like smoke, and their eyes were dull.
Star and Morningleaf trotted through the herd, neighing for the steeds to follow. “Morningleaf found shelter to the east,” whinnied Star. The wind increased and whistled across the flat tundra, whipping the fresh snow into flurries that blinded him.
“It’s not safe to fly in this,” said Morningleaf.
Star paused as the dull thud of hoofbeats reached his ears. Someone was galloping his way, but he couldn’t see through the deluge of snowflakes. Then a gray shape emerged, followed by another. It was Silverlake and Dewberry. They slid to a halt, out of breath. “One of my sentries hasn’t returned,” Silverlake whinnied, her expression anxious. “It’s Dawnfir; she’s late. I have to find her.”
Star trotted to her side. “I’ll help you look.” Dawnfir had been his mother’s best friend and was one of Star’s most loyal supporters.
“Me too,” offered Dewberry.
Silverlake shook her mane. “I’ll take one of you, but not both. This storm is too dangerous.”
Dewberry looked at Star. “You go. I don’t know Dawnfir that well.”
“Thank you.” Star squinted across the valley. The falling snow made it impossible to see far. “I’ll tell the others we’re going.”
“No. I already told Thundersky. Let’s go now. This storm is only getting stronger,” said Silverlake.
She whirled and flew into the snowstorm, Star following. They quickly landed, though, and scanned the tundra. “Let’s not fly,” she said. “I’m afraid I’ll hit a tree.” Silverlake’s tousled mane blew over her ears, covering her face. She shook off the hair, but it blew right back. The force of the wind caused the snow to fall at a sharp angle, and the hard flakes bit into Star’s muzzle like sand fleas. The sky had grown darker still, and the Ice Lands were shrouded in snow.
The Guardian Herd: Stormbound Page 6