“It’s a whiteout,” whinnied Star. “Dawnfir is stormbound; she can’t see to fly. We’ll search by hoof, and I’ll try and light our way.”
He closed his eyes and conjured the warm starfire in his belly, stoking it with his thoughts and growing it bigger and hotter. When it was tumbling through his body, he drew the light up into his throat. The electric fire sparked across his tongue. He opened his mouth and let the golden starlight beam forth. It cut through the thick falling snow and lit their path.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” neighed Silverlake.
“Neither did I.” Star trotted forward, his hooves glowing gold. He wondered what else he could do that he didn’t know about. He and Silverlake each spread their wings to shelter their backs from the wet snowflakes. “Where was Dawnfir scouting?” Star asked, his beam of light flickering as he spoke.
“I sent her and another mare south, to Antler Lake. They got separated in the storm, and only one mare returned.” Silverlake dropped her head and sniffed the tundra. “With all this fresh snow covering the ground, we won’t see her hoofprints, and I can’t smell a thing.”
Star whinnied over the wind. “Antler Lake is in an open plain. She probably went looking for shelter when the storm hit.” Snowflakes landed on Star’s eyelashes, half blinding him.
Star broke into a gallop toward Antler Lake.
“No! Wait!” Silverlake neighed, rearing to project her voice. “I’ll sweat if we go faster, and then I’ll freeze. Let’s just trot.”
Star nodded and slowed. The starfire beaming from his open mouth shone as bright as day and projected many winglengths ahead of them, piercing the thick cascade of snowflakes. It wasn’t long before they arrived at Antler Lake, which was frozen. “Maybe she went that way,” said Star, nodding toward rocky hills that would provide some protection from the wind.
Star and Silverlake trotted toward them, their hooves crunching through the frost and slipping on icy rocks. They searched the sheltered sides of the hills for almost an hour but did not find Dawnfir. Star glanced at his adoptive mother. Her white mane and tail had hardened into strands of ice, her legs quaked, and one eye had frozen shut. “Let’s stop and rest,” he said to her.
She halted, and her body sagged. Her nose dropped to the snow. She shook violently, and her frosty wings collapsed at her sides. “You keep searching, Star,” she said. Her voice was rough like her throat was full of gravel. “I’ll wait here.”
“No. You’ll die.” Star sidled close and wrapped his wing around her. “I didn’t realize how cold you were. I can help you.” Star opened his mouth and swathed her in hot gold starfire that did not burn. Silverlake startled, jerking her head upright.
Star swept the fire over her entire body and watched the ice turn to water as it melted off her. When her body was dry and her feathers downy, Star closed his mouth and they stood in the darkness of the storm.
Silverlake nuzzled him. “Your mother would have been proud of everything you’ve done for us.”
Star huffed, and his breath came out in a cloud of fog. How would his mother have been proud? River Herd was starving and on the verge of freezing to death, and it was his fault. Maybe he should have reclaimed Sun Herd’s territory. He shook his head, struggling with his doubts.
Silverlake seemed to read his mind. “We’re free, Star. We have nothing to fear.”
But that wasn’t completely true. Half of River Herd would follow him blindly to their deaths. The other half muttered about their living conditions and lack of direct leadership.
“Anyway, I’m proud of you,” nickered the mare. “Let’s go this way.”
Star trotted behind her, lost in thought. So many pegasi had fought and died so he could live and receive his power. They hoped he would heal the herds, but they never imagined the herds wouldn’t want to be healed. They didn’t foresee that Star wouldn’t know what to do.
And the tug he felt from across the sea grew stronger each time he used his starfire, as though the dark force was tracking him. Perhaps in receiving the starfire, Star had woken the hibernating stallion, Nightwing the Destroyer. And what if the ancient pegasus felt the same connection to Star that Star felt to him? If so, then he could hunt Star down and . . . and then what, Star could only guess.
He shivered and halted.
“What’s wrong?” asked Silverlake, looking back.
He dipped his head. “It’s time I told you something.”
She stopped and folded her wings as he approached. “What is it? I’m listening.”
“I think Mossberry was right, that Nightwing flew west to hibernate in the Territory of the Landwalkers.”
Silverlake’s feathers rattled, and she tightened her wings to stop their shaking. Her expression was dazed, as though he’d struck her. “Why are you talking about Nightwing?”
“Because I believe he’s awake.”
Silverlake gasped. “Why do you think this?”
“I can feel him,” admitted Star. “I think we’re connected by the starfire.”
“What does he want?” She flipped her mane against the wind. “Why would he wake up now?”
“I don’t know. It’s just . . . the feeling I have is getting stronger, especially when I use my power. It’s like he tracks me through it, and I guess I can track him too, because I know he’s far away, in the land across the Great Sea. I think his starfire awakened him when I received mine, and now he’s coming out of hibernation.”
Silverlake drew her wings in tighter. “Is he coming back to Anok?”
Star shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You must tell me if anything changes.”
She held his gaze for a long time, and Star nodded, feeling terrible. Had he survived his execution and received his power just to awaken the Destroyer? Silverlake seemed to be thinking the same thing, but he couldn’t be sure.
Star switched his thoughts back to the missing sentry. “Come on; let’s keep looking for Dawnfir.”
12
WHITEOUT
STAR AND SILVERLAKE TROTTED THROUGH A thin forest, the snow crunching beneath their hooves. “If we . . . don’t find Dawnfir . . . soon, we’ll . . . have to head back,” Silverlake said, her teeth chattering between words.
Star saw that her entire face was again dusted in snow that had turned to ice, but her eyes were bright and determined. Star knew she wouldn’t stop looking for the mare, even though it was clear Silverlake was freezing to death. He projected his starfire onto her and warmed her again. “You have to tell me when you’re cold, before it gets so bad.”
She nodded, and then her ears pricked forward and her eyes widened. Star listened as a crashing sound pierced the muffled silence around them, followed by the terrified squeal of a mare. “It’s Dawnfir,” Silverlake said, and then she whinnied for the mare. “Over here!”
The thumping of hooves and the cracking of branches grew closer. Star lifted his head and beamed light straight into the sky to guide the mare’s path toward them. Dawnfir burst out of the shadows, careening jaggedly, her wings tucked tight and sweaty froth covering her chest. Her eyes were white rimmed and her ears flat. “Run!” she squealed.
Star and Silverlake reacted immediately and stampeded with Dawnfir. Star’s heart pounded, and his blood whooshed between his ears, wiping out all other sounds. He was faster than the mares, but he ran behind them to protect them—but from what he had no idea.
They galloped madly, leaping over boulders, their heavy hooves breaking branches and slipping over frozen creeks. The last time Star had run—in a confused, panic-stricken terror like this—was during the fire that had killed Mossberry. Sharp branches sliced his chest, and hidden boulders smacked his shins.
The three of them raced out of the forest and skidded to a halt on the open, snowy plain. They were exposed, with nowhere to hide. They could lift off, but they would be flying blind and into a blizzard.
Dawnfir looked back the way they had come, panting. They were each sweating,
still hot from running. A sharp growl suddenly exploded from the forest, causing Silverlake to rear, but she held her ground. “What is that? What are we running from?” she asked Dawnfir.
“Bear!” Dawnfir neighed, catching her breath. “But not like any bear you’ve ever seen.” She shook her coat like she was trying to rid herself of the memory.
“Where is it?” asked Silverlake.
Dawnfir glanced around her. “I don’t know. I just ran.”
“And the bear chased you?” Star asked, peering toward the woods, but he couldn’t see a thing. The sky, the land, and the heavy falling snow—it was all a blinding white color.
Dawnfir’s sides heaved, and her breath came in short bursts. “I think so. It’s been stalking me, actually—like it’s smart, like it can think.” A shiver ran from her ears down to her tail. She met Star’s eyes. “You won’t see it; it’s invisible. It’s not like the black bears that live in our mountains.”
Silverlake folded her wings and stepped closer to Dawnfir, peering deep into her eyes. “An invisible bear? I think it’s getting dark, and your imagination has flown away with you, Dawnfir.”
Dawnfir lifted her chin. “No. It’s real, and it’s smart.”
“Not as smart as us,” said Silverlake, ending the discussion.
“Are you hurt?” Star asked, scanning Dawnfir’s body for injuries.
“No.” She sucked in the cold air and coughed.
Silverlake sighed. “Good, we’re together, and we’ve had enough folly for the day. Let’s get back to River Herd.”
Suddenly, Dawnfir screamed, and Star gasped as her body was lifted off the ground and thrown across the icy snow. “Dawnfir?” he whinnied. He reared, ready to strike, but saw only whiteness around him. Silverlake skittered sideways, and Star splayed his wings, circling, hunting for the creature that had tossed Dawnfir. It roared, a guttural echo that ended in a high-pitched wail. Star’s gut lightened. Where was it?
Dawnfir struggled to stand, but two of her legs would not hold her weight. She tried to fly, but her wings only fluttered wildly. Star galloped toward her. The padding of massive paws followed him, gaining speed. The creature growled, a short, chopped sound. Star ran faster. He reached Dawnfir and skidded around her, snatching her tail and tugging on it to help her stand. Her mouth gaped open, and her pupils shrank. “It’s right there!” she neighed.
Star whirled and almost didn’t see the bear rearing in front of him. It blended perfectly into the white landscape, except for its black nose and eyes. The beast was gigantic, easily four times the size of a black bear. It opened its mouth and roared at Star, the deep rumble of its voice shaking Star’s feathers and its hot breath blowing back his forelock.
Star froze, too astonished to move.
The bear swiped at him, and its giant paw connected with Star’s shoulder. Star somersaulted and crashed into a snowbank, his right leg stinging as it twisted under him.
The bear dropped to all fours and charged Dawnfir.
“No!” Star whinnied, and exploded out of the snowbank, hopping on three legs and skidding into the bear’s path.
Silverlake swooped out of the sky and kicked the beast’s head.
It charged past Star, spinning him out of the way. Blood dripped from Star’s shoulder, and he stared at the wound. The bear had bitten him!
Silverlake landed next to Star. They galloped forward, but the bear charged them, so they soared above it and resumed kicking at its head with their powerful hooves. The bear ignored them, pawing at Dawnfir and drawing blood. The downed mare rolled onto her back and clubbed the huge beast with all four hooves.
Furious, the bear snatched Dawnfir’s blue and white feathers in its claws and dragged her toward its snarling mouth. Anger flushed away the last of Star’s confusion, and the starfire flamed inside him, curling through his bones and shooting through his body. He twisted from the sheer intensity of it and almost fell out of the sky.
On the ground, Dawnfir squealed in pain as the bear tugged hard on her wing, shredding the feathers, and then it dived onto her throat.
Star inhaled, expanding his chest with starfire. Silverlake screamed at him, her eyes full of tears, and her words echoed through his brain.
“Kill him, Star!”
13
DESTINY
STAR’S WHOLE BODY VIBRATED WITH WRATH, and his hooves changed from gold to silver. He roared at the bear that was attacking Dawnfir, and the bear roared right back. Dawnfir met his eyes and shook her head, but Star couldn’t stop the rage that engulfed him. He opened his mouth and blasted the bear with the silver fire.
The piercing light shot into the bear and lifted it off the snow. Star’s heart clamped down, hardening to the bear’s pain, leaving Star feeling cold. Darkness swarmed his thoughts until all he wanted was the bear dead. The creature roared and pawed like it was on fire, and Star narrowed his eyes. He drenched the beast in silver flames—to save Dawnfir. The bear clawed at the air like it hoped to run away, but there was no escape, and Star watched it collapse.
Star closed his mouth. His hide sparkled and his hooves glowed silver. He pranced, full of energy, but his heart was as cold as ice. He turned and saw Silverlake staring at him, shocked, her head low and her ears flat.
Star took a slow breath. “Don’t be afraid.” Silver sparks snapped and fell from his mouth like shooting stars.
Silverlake skirted around him and rushed to Dawnfir’s side, but it was too late. The bear had sliced open Dawnfir’s throat and belly. Her eyes were absent of life.
Shock and anger blackened Star’s vision. Dawnfir—his mother’s best friend—was dead, her body too damaged for him to heal. He faced Silverlake and saw his reflection in her eyes, his threatening posture, his silver glow, and the bear’s blood smeared across the white star on his forehead. He saw a killer. His gut uncoiled like a snake, and he screamed in fear—of himself. He leaped into the sky, away from her, away from Dawnfir’s body, away from the horror.
Star pumped his wings, flying higher and higher. He couldn’t see where he was going, and he didn’t care. He just wanted to be alone. He flew straight up into the storm, through layers upon layers of wet gray clouds, their moistness choking his breath, until finally he pierced the highest layer and exploded into a clear sky.
It was dusk and the sun was setting, casting long rays of pale light. The stars were out, already sparkling. Star soared over the thick, murky storm clouds that hid Anok from his view. His thoughts swirled with grief and a new sensation: power.
He glanced behind him and saw Silverlake following, but staying low and out of his way. He ignored her, climbing even higher. The silver starfire raced through him, not letting him alone. It seized him like poison, hurting and killing every good thought he’d ever had.
“Star?” whinnied Silverlake from below. “Are you all right?”
Star knew he needed to get rid of the silver poison in his body. He opened his mouth and blasted a plume of starfire so powerful it tossed him backward. The silver light exploded out of him, racing toward space as he exhaled.
When Star felt drained, he closed his mouth and fell, tumbling ears over hooves toward land. The face of a solid-black pegasi with hollow eyes and a ragged mane formed in the sky above him like a living constellation. Star gaped at the almost transparent image. Trust your eyes, Star, Dewberry had instructed him.
Star blinked rapidly and refocused. The creature was real, yet unreal. It was a vision of Nightwing, splashed across the sky but looking right at Star. Nightwing bared his teeth and lunged for Star’s throat, like the bear did to Dawnfir. Star dodged the shadowy black stallion and shielded his eyes, falling faster toward the cloud layer.
Silverlake jetted toward him, whinnying, “Fly, Star, fly!”
He hadn’t realized he wasn’t flapping his wings. He hit the cloud bank and fell through it, scattering the mist like silver smoke. He spread his feathers and flipped over, capturing the current until he was gliding.
The a
pparition of the black pegasus disappeared. Star coughed up the rest of the silver starfire in short bursts, and soon his glowing hooves dimmed and the last of the sparks popped between his teeth. He soared back up toward Silverlake.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice quaking. “Why did your starfire turn silver—it’s always been golden?”
Star coasted, exhausted, not knowing what to say.
“It’s the power of the Destroyer, isn’t it?” Silverlake’s voice trembled, on the edge of panic.
They flew out of the clouds and glided over them, above the storm. He opened his mouth, and the truth tumbled out. “I am both,” he cried. “I am the healer and the destroyer.”
Silverlake gasped. “So it’s not the Hundred Year Star’s choice what you are? It’s yours?”
“Yes . . . no.” His voice broke. “It’s a choice, but I’m always both. Each time I use my starfire, I have to choose what I am.” He took a deep breath, ready to confess more. “Before, when I healed Brackentail’s wing, I almost killed him. I was angry. I’m . . . I’m doing my best to control it.”
Silverlake tensed but flew on, thinking. After a while she spoke. “You can’t tell anyone else. You’ll scare them.”
“I know,” he said, anguished.
Silverlake sensed Star’s doubt and misery. “Now, more than ever, you must believe in yourself,” she said firmly.
Star trusted Silverlake because they wanted the same thing: what was best for the herds. He could be honest with her. “I saw Nightwing again, just now. It was another vision. I’m afraid of him.”
She grimaced. “Focus on who you are, not who he is.”
The Guardian Herd: Stormbound Page 7