The Guardian Herd

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

  A large bank of rain clouds drifted across the thin moon; the river flowed slowly below, looking as black as Star’s feathers. Now, she thought. Morningleaf inhaled, blinking back her tears. “Good-bye,” she whispered, so softly that no one heard her.

  She relaxed her wings and fell like a large, heavy stone toward land.

  “No!” screamed Hazelwind.

  Good, cause a fuss, thought Morningleaf. She needed Nightwing to know she’d fallen to her death. It was his fault she couldn’t fly; he could only blame himself. But this was her last coherent thought. The rest of her descent was one big rush of sound—her own screaming—and the whipping of her mane in the wind. She hurtled toward land like she’d fallen out of a jet stream, but this time Star wasn’t around to save her.

  “Morningleaf!”

  Her mother’s desperate cry squeezed her heart.

  Then her friends whinnied and dived after her, and Nightwing trumpeted to his Ice Warriors to stop them and retrieve her. At the last second, Morningleaf angled her damaged wings to make sure she glided straight into the river.

  She hit with a painful splash and sank, her body curling into a ball.

  When her hooves touched the bottom, she swam through the dark depths, hunting for the web of underground rivers that Redfire had told her fanned off the deep waterway. Behind her, she heard the plunking of bodies hitting the water—her friends and her enemies. She had to lose them all.

  Her wings throbbed, her head was splitting, and her chest stung where it had slammed the water. The river was murky from the sediment she’d disturbed, so she had to sense her way through the currents like she was flying, feeling for the crosscurrent that would indicate water flowing off the main channel. She’d spoken to Redfire at length about the aquifers while he carried her through the sky, and she was hopeful she’d quickly locate one. She would hide in it, and when Nightwing saw that her body never resurfaced, he would presume her dead, or she really would be dead—either way, this was her plan.

  She glanced behind her but saw only churned-up mud. Her lungs began to burn. She slowed her swimming and let the water carry her. Ah! Now she felt it, a crosscurrent. It was powerful near her hooves. She dived deeper, and it swept her off and down into a tunnel.

  Relax, she thought. Don’t waste air fighting. She had no strength left anyway.

  Suddenly, Morningleaf’s plan felt hopeless and stupid. But that was also the beauty of it. If she died, it could still be considered a success for the pegasi of Anok. With her out of the way, Nightwing couldn’t use her against her best friend, Star. Yes, she was doing the right thing.

  Morningleaf drifted helplessly. In a minute, maybe less, she’d be out of air. She began to list, her body twisting sideways.

  Then sharp pain sent a flash of energy through her muscles. She hit a ledge with her hooves. Her head rose out of the water. She took a gasping breath and scrambled onto the ledge, panting and huffing. I made it!

  Moments later her eyes adjusted. A soft, luminescent glow brightened the tunnel just enough for her to make out that she was in a large cavern, resting on a ledge that traveled into the dark distance. There was plenty of air and space to rest. She didn’t like that the cavern reminded her of the lava tubes under the volcano Firemouth, but unlike the lava tubes, she had light to see by, and the space wasn’t cramped. Besides all that, she was alone, safe. She could stay here for days.

  Then a head popped out of the water. “There you are,” he said, and he surged toward her.

  Morningleaf leaped to her hooves. It was an Ice Warrior!

  9

  SURROUNDED

  THE ICE WARRIOR CLIMBED OUT OF THE WATER onto the limestone ledge and shook himself, flinging water off his hairy coat. Morningleaf backed away from him, noting his easy breaths. Something an elder mare named Mossberry told her long ago surfaced in her mind: The northern steeds are the best swimmers in Anok. In the dead of winter they break the ice and dive into the cold blue, feeding on sea plants. They can hold their breath for as long as a full-grown seal. No wonder this blue roan wasn’t panting; the swim had been easy for him. How many more Ice Warriors would follow her here? Her gut lurched.

  “You can’t escape,” he said, prancing and surprisingly light on his hooves for such a massive pegasus.

  Morningleaf’s flanks rammed the back wall of the cavern. The stallion loomed over her, drawing closer. She glanced down the tunnel.

  “If I have to chase you farther, I’ll do more than just drag you out of here,” he warned, his voice echoing in the dim cavern. “I’ll break those ruined wings of yours. So don’t run.”

  Morningleaf snorted. Since she couldn’t outswim, outrun, or outfight this thick-pelted pegasus—she’d have to outtalk him. “Why are you helping Nightwing?” she asked.

  He took a step closer.

  “You can’t believe he’s good for Anok.”

  The stallion cocked his head, ever so slightly.

  “Let me go,” Morningleaf implored him. “Tell Nightwing that I drowned and give Star a chance to defeat him. Can’t you do that? Just give Star a chance. He’ll free us all, even you.”

  “I am free,” he said.

  “Right,” she huffed. “You aren’t allowed to breathe without permission.”

  He shook his head, getting angry. “Star—Nightwing—what’s the difference between them? A black foal is a black foal.” He prowled closer, opening his jaws to seize her.

  Morningleaf leaped to the side, and her hooves slid on loose shale, knocking some into the water with a splash. “Star is good!” she whinnied.

  “Star is young,” he argued. “He will change.” He lunged and snatched her injured wing.

  Morningleaf shrieked, and her hooves flew, kicking the blue roan in the chest. He held on to her, unmoved.

  Then three winged shapes, cruising below the surface, raced toward her, creating a large wake. Morningleaf’s heart sank—more Ice Warriors? She yanked her wing out of the stallion’s mouth and bolted. The blue roan whistled, stinging her ears, and he galloped after her, kicking up rocks.

  Morningleaf slid across the stone cavern, cantering farther away from the main channel. The phosphorescent glow lit her way, but she was no match for the stallion. He grabbed her tail, lifted her off her hooves, and tossed her into the aquifer. She splashed into the cool water, sputtering. He leaned forward to dive in after her.

  “Over here, you hairy whale!” It was Dewberry, with Hazelwind and Brackentail. Fresh energy shot through her legs, and Morningleaf paddled away. Her three friends surrounded the Ice Warrior.

  “Go that way,” neighed Brackentail, pointing with his wing deeper into the aqueduct. Hazelwind nodded, urging her to go, but her brother’s eyes darkened and she knew what was coming next—her friends were going to battle the Ice Warrior to the death.

  Morningleaf dived underwater and swam farther down the tunnel. When she popped up again, she heard the quick slam of the deathblow. The outnumbered blue roan was dead.

  Then another familiar face popped up next to hers. “Bumblewind!” She swam toward him, and they rubbed their muzzles together.

  “Where is everyone?” he asked. “I was following Dewberry and then I lost sight of her, and now here you are, alone.”

  She nickered. “They’re that way, taking care of something.”

  “The Ice Warrior?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “You mean I missed the whole thing? The whole rescue?” He tossed his wet forelock out of his eyes.

  She snorted, paddling her hooves. “I guess so, unless more Ice Warriors show up.”

  “They won’t,” he said. “I mean, there were six others who followed us, but four were swept downstream and never saw the tunnel. They’re searching for you along the banks. One struck his head on a rock when he dived in, and he . . . he broke his neck. The other, well, we took care of him before he could enter this offshoot.”

  “So no one knows I’m alive in here.” She swam to the ledge and used her
hooves and wings to climb out of the water.

  “No one but us.” His eyelids flew open. “Wait. Did you plan this? Or did you fall because you were tired?”

  Hazelwind, Dewberry, and Brackentail trotted down the cavern toward them, dripping blood that wasn’t theirs. Hazelwind’s jaw was tight and his eyes narrow. “Oh, she planned it,” he said, furious.

  Dewberry’s wings lilted to her sides. “We won’t . . . we can’t go back to the herd, obviously. Your mother will think we’ve all died.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  Hazelwind whipped his head around. “Hasn’t Silverlake gone through enough,” he growled. “Our father was murdered before her eyes, and now you, her filly—falling to her death and drowning. That’s what she’ll think, you know. And she’ll think I got killed too. How could you?”

  Tears erupted and flowed down Morningleaf’s cheeks. “I didn’t . . . I don’t . . .”

  “Let me guess; you didn’t think,” accused her brother.

  “Don’t be so hard on her,” neighed Brackentail.

  Hazelwind lashed his tail. “Stay out of this.”

  “I didn’t think you’d follow me this far,” sputtered Morningleaf.

  “Like I haven’t heard you and Redfire talking for days about the aquifers,” he snapped. “As soon as you let go of my neck, I knew what you were up to.” Hazelwind stared down at his battle-stained chest. “I need to clean up.”

  “Me too,” said Dewberry.

  The three pegasi who’d attacked the blue roan slipped into the dark river to rinse their hides. They came out glistening, and also shivering.

  “Nightwing will search for you, probably for many days before he gives up,” said Hazelwind, his anger subsiding. “We’re stuck in here for a while.”

  Bumblewind glanced at the tall limestone walls, his eyes glowing in the phosphorescence. “How did Redfire know this was here?” he asked Morningleaf.

  Hazelwind answered. “Redfire’s been filling her head with information about the desert. Rivers like these that cut through soft rock, form underground channels like webs that can’t be seen from the air. They branch out and surface far away from the main source, which is the river.” He glanced at his sister. “Now I know why you were asking so many questions about them.”

  “She always asks a lot of questions,” said Brackentail.

  Hazelwind shrugged. “That’s probably why I didn’t think too much about it until she let go of me.”

  “What are we supposed to eat in here?” asked Bumblewind.

  Dewberry shoved him. “Hungry already?”

  Everyone nickered, and the tension melted out of the cavern and floated away with the long, dark river.

  “We’ll rest here a few days,” said Hazelwind. “Then, if it’s safe, we’ll track Nightwing’s herd to the interior.”

  “We’re going to follow them?” asked Morningleaf, stunned.

  He grimaced. “Yes, we’ll keep our distance, but we’ll set up a watch to spy on Nightwing and the pegasi. When Star comes, he’ll need information, and we’ll be able to give it to him. At least something good has come from your recklessness.”

  Morningleaf nodded quietly, because her brother was right; she hadn’t thought out her plan, or what came next. She was shocked that she was alive at all.

  They traveled deeper into the tunnel, found smooth stone, and settled for the night. Before falling asleep, Hazelwind nuzzled his sister, forgiving her. “The four Ice Warriors who swam downstream didn’t see the aqueduct; they’ll report that we drowned, and a search won’t reveal our hoofprints or our bodies. It wasn’t the worst plan.”

  Morningleaf sighed. “Our mother will understand, someday.”

  “Yes, someday,” Hazelwind repeated, and then he closed his eyes.

  10

  CAMOUFLAGE

  A STRIPE OF ORANGE SPLIT THE DARKNESS, AND Star watched Frostfire awaken and gaze at Valley Field, the charred meadow of his homeland. “I may never come back to this place.”

  Star paced, feeling anxious. “All that matters now is finding our friends and defeating Nightwing.”

  “Of course,” said Frostfire.

  The two stallions galloped across the field and then leaped into the air, flapping their wings in perfect rhythm. They flew straight up and through the clouds, and then past them, climbing higher. “Come closer,” neighed Star.

  Frostfire flew beside him, and Star projected his golden shield around them both. They ducked into the southwestern jet stream and hurtled away from the mountains. Frostfire controlled the sphere’s rotation with his wings, keeping them upright, and Star watched the land pass by in a blur under their hooves, scanning it for signs of pegasi. Hours later they crossed the Vein and entered Jungle Herd’s territory.

  They coasted over the volcano Firemouth, and the silence between Star and Frostfire sparkled with energy as they each remembered Frostfire’s treachery. After he’d kidnapped Morningleaf, he’d hidden her in the lava tubes beneath that steaming volcano.

  “I didn’t hurt her.” Frostfire said, addressing the tension.

  Star exploded. “Do you think that because you didn’t kick or bite Morningleaf, what you did wasn’t horrible?” Star’s voice cracked. “You killed her protectors in front of her eyes. You forced her into a bat-infested cave. You chased her into a jet stream.” Star swallowed, marveling at the fact that Morningleaf had ridden in one of these screaming currents without the protection of a shield. Star turned his head to Frostfire. “Every single bone in her wings snapped on exit.” Tears poured from his eyes. “Do you know how badly that hurt her? She would have died if I hadn’t been there to heal her.”

  Frostfire shook his head, looking numb. “I was following orders from Rockwing.” The words dribbled from his mouth like the last drops of a rainstorm, weak and changing nothing.

  Star clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to retract his shield and watch Frostfire plummet to his death. “I don’t see any pegasi in this territory,” he said, ending the conversation.

  They glided, heading east for many more hours, not speaking. And then the Sea of Rain appeared, green and flat, ahead of them.

  “We should check the Jungle Herd nests for pegasi,” suggested Frostfire, his voice soft.

  Star lowered his nose and directed the golden sphere down and out of the jet stream. They spread their wings, slowing the bubble, but again they were falling too fast.

  A crosscurrent knocked them sideways. Seconds later they crashed into the Sea of Rain and sank toward the bottom near the shore. Star paddled his legs, instinctively swimming, but the water didn’t pierce the shield. He and Frostfire floated back up and bobbed on the surface. The two gaped at each other.

  “This is incredible.” Frostfire knocked on the shell with his wing. Dolphins zipped past them, seeming curious but keeping their distance.

  Star directed them to shore and then retracted the shield when they reached land. Hot, moist air assaulted them, and Star felt like he was choking. Sweat erupted on both stallions.

  “I know where the nests are,” said Frostfire. He lifted off and flew into the rain forest. Star spread his wings and followed.

  Below, he saw tall trees and dense foliage. Monkeys leaped from the branches, brightly colored birds flew from tree to tree, and the animal chatter drowned out all other sounds. “How could a pegasus hear a predator coming?” Star wondered aloud.

  “They don’t,” said Frostfire. “Jungle predators ambush their prey. That’s why everything here is camouflaged, so the predators and prey can’t see each other. It’s why the Jungle Herd pegasi have feathers that look like leaves, so they can hide.”

  Star narrowed his eyes.

  “I’m telling the truth,” said Frostfire, gliding low over the trees. “And that gives me an idea. Let’s land a moment.”

  The two touched down, and Frostfire continued. “Your starfire forms a shield, like a tortoise shell, right? It protects you. Maybe your starfire can mimic other animal
abilities, like maybe you can camouflage yourself.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t know how I discovered the shield. It just appeared when Stormtail was about to kill me.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying, Star. When you’re threatened, your starfire helps defend you. Here, I’ll attack you, and let’s see what happens.”

  Star didn’t like the sound of that.

  Frostfire trotted away and then returned with a wingful of fallen pineapples. “I’m going to throw them at you.”

  “Wha—”

  Frostfire swooped up the hard fruit and threw them at Star, one after the other.

  Star blocked with his wings, growing angry. “Stop! This isn’t working.”

  “Don’t use your voice. Use your power.”

  Star sprang his shield, and the pineapples bounced off it.

  “Not that power,” neighed Frostfire.

  Star clenched his jaw and retracted the shield. Frostfire tossed the spiny pineapples at him tirelessly, and the sharper ones cut Star’s hide. “I don’t feel threatened,” grumbled Star. “I feel stupid.”

  “Because you’re letting me attack you,” Frostfire neighed, also growing frustrated. “Defend yourself. Try to disappear, like those lizards that change color.”

  Star’s mind drifted into his body, searching through his powers—not the healing fire, not the hard shield—surely there were more. He closed his eyes, remembering how he’d allowed his shield to project. The power had always been there, just awaiting his permission to spring around him.

  A pineapple smashed into his jaw, making it throb. This had to stop.

  Star opened his eyes, fanned his golden embers of starfire, and then imagined blending into the forest so well that he couldn’t be seen. His starfire crackled and then shut around him, like a thousand flower petals closing.

  Frostfire paused in midthrow. “You did it!”