The Guardian Herd

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

  Star glanced at himself, but he looked the same; his hide was still black, not camouflaged green like the plants behind him. “No. Nothing’s changed,” he said.

  Frostfire dropped his wingful of pineapples and swallowed hard. “Not true.” Frostfire stared in Star’s direction, his eyes bulging. “You didn’t change color, but you . . . vanished.”

  “What?” Star spread his wings, examining his black feathers. “I didn’t vanish; I can see myself.”

  “But I can’t see you,” said Frostfire. “Try to retract the power.”

  Star did.

  “You’re back,” nickered Frostfire. “Now I can see you again.”

  “My starfire is getting easier to control,” said Star, astonished. “You were right. These powers have been there all along. I just have to let them work.”

  The sun turned from bright yellow to soft orange, and Star grew anxious for Morningleaf. “This is good, helpful, but we need to catch up to Nightwing. Let’s go.”

  “All right, but we should at least check the Jungle Herd nesting ground first,” said Frostfire. “Survivors may be hiding there.”

  Star followed Frostfire back to the nesting grounds, where the white stallion banked and swooped over the uppermost leaves, cruising above hundreds of pegasi nests. “They’re empty,” said Star, feeling anxious.

  “Look,” whinnied Frostfire as he circled lower. “It’s Spiderwing’s old nest. I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it.”

  Star looked and saw a nest that was burned black. Everything else around it was green. “How do you know it’s his?”

  “See there?” said Frostfire, nodding toward a thick rim of charred flowers, feathers, shells, and shiny stones. “For hundreds of years the Jungle Herd pegasi have left gifts here, as a memorial to Spiderwing. It’s why the nest is so big—they keep adding on to it.”

  “So it’s like a shrine, a tribute?”

  “Exactly.” Frostfire glanced around in disbelief. “But it’s the only thing that’s burned. Nightwing must have done this.”

  Star tried to remember the legends. “But why? I thought Nightwing liked Spiderwing.”

  Frostfire snorted. “He did, but he was also jealous. When Nightwing conquered the herds four hundred years ago, he killed all the rival over-stallions except one: Spiderwing, the brother of his best friend, Hollyblaze. The two stallions split Anok in half, and Spiderwing’s herd thrived but Nightwing’s did not. Spiderwing’s steeds worshipped him, and still do, as you can see by his nest. He lived a long life and had thirty-two healthy foals. Nightwing had none. No mare would have him, and his herd despised him.”

  Star pricked his ears. He hadn’t known this about the Destroyer. He tried to imagine an over-stallion who was unable to attract a mate, who lacked respect from his herdmates, and he couldn’t. He’d never heard of such a thing. Nightwing must have been humiliated. “But none of that is a reason to come back and hurt us,” said Star.

  “Don’t you get it,” said Frostfire, snorting. “We’re Spiderwing’s descendants—all of us. Nightwing’s herd reproduced no foals. The mares turned barren. All of us come from Spiderwing’s line, and Nightwing didn’t promise not to kill us. Or you.” He peered at Star. “You’re his new rival, and I doubt he’ll make the same mistake twice. He won’t let you live.”

  Star shuddered. All he’d ever wanted was to be a regular colt. He hadn’t asked for any of this.

  Frostfire and Star hovered closer to the ancient nest. Frostfire spoke. “For Nightwing to see this . . . this monument to his oldest rival—still being tended after four hundred years—I imagine that angered the Destroyer pretty badly.”

  Star lifted his head, feeling overwhelmed by the depth of Nightwing’s hatred. “We’re on his trail, but we keep missing him. Let’s go now, right now, to Desert Herd’s territory. It’s the last place to search. If they aren’t there, then they’ve left Western Anok, and they’re on their way to their new home.”

  Frostfire nodded, and the two stallions surged toward Desert Herd’s lands, flying all night.

  11

  WATERING HOLE

  FOUR DAYS PASSED FOR MORNINGLEAF AND HER friends in the underground cavern. They’d survived by drinking from the aquifer and grazing on patches of wet moss, but now it was time to go.

  “Nightwing may have left warriors behind to patrol the river,” said Dewberry.

  “And in the sky,” said Hazelwind. “We’ll have to travel at night.” He glanced at the yellowish rock walls that leaked water like tears. “If we’re spotted . . . ,” he began, but didn’t finish his thought. They all knew that if an Ice Warrior spotted them, Hazelwind would have to kill the steed before he or she could inform Nightwing about them.

  “We won’t let that happen,” assured Brackentail.

  Morningleaf had felt triumphant the last four days, but not anymore. Exiting the river, tracking Nightwing, and spying on him would be as dangerous and stressful as traveling with him. Besides that, her confrontation with the Ice Warrior in the cavern had reminded her how young and small she was against her enemies. Even fleeing from them would be tough. Morningleaf stared at her ruined feathers, feeling useless.

  Brackentail edged closer. As if reading her mind, he said, “We’ll protect you. That’s what a herd is for.”

  Morningleaf’s crumbling resolve thumped to life at his words. She gazed at him and nudged him gently with her muzzle. “Thank you.” He’d said the exact words she needed to hear. Louder, she spoke to the group. “Instead of heading to the main channel, why don’t we follow this outlet a little farther. It should eventually lead to the surface, but far from the river.”

  Dewberry and Hazelwind looked skeptical.

  “We have time to try it,” said Brackentail. “We know Nightwing is taking the herd to the interior of Anok, and it’ll be safer to follow this branch than to return to the main channel, where Ice Warriors might still be looking for us.”

  “That’s true,” said Hazelwind, glancing at Morningleaf, “but I’m worried about getting lost. What if this tunnel takes us deeper underground and we become trapped?”

  Her brother’s gaze was unwavering, and Morningleaf saw their sire reflected in him—Thundersky’s bravery and his commitment to his family. Hazelwind had abandoned Morningleaf and their mother once to form his own herd because he didn’t trust Star. She’d been furious with him, but since then Hazelwind had decided to accept Star. Now their broken bond was healing, and like a broken bone, it was healing stronger than before. “Trust me,” she said to her older brother. “I was trapped in the lava tubes, and I found my way out.”

  “All right,” Hazelwind said. “Lead the way.”

  Morningleaf turned and walked deeper into the aqueduct, with her friends following.

  Many hours later, the rocky ledge ended abruptly, but the river channel continued, flowing ahead. A smidgeon of light in the distance indicated that the surface might be near. “We’ll have to swim the rest of the way,” said Morningleaf.

  Bumblewind lowered his nose to the dark water. “Are you sure this leads to the surface?”

  Morningleaf had counted on a breeze to indicate open land above their heads, like she had in the lava tubes, but underground the air was still. “Wait here; I’ll check it out.”

  Before they could stop her, Morningleaf slid into the water. Without the sun to warm it, the cool liquid chilled her bones. She paddled forward and relaxed, feeling for a current. Small, luminescent creatures glowed along the sides of the rock tunnel. She had the eerie feeling of being watched. She swam on, kicking gently. Then she felt it, rising water, but the tunnel narrowed ahead, cutting off her air. She’d have to duck under the surface and swim the rest of the way underwater. But would this aqueduct take her to the surface, or trap her under land and drown her? She returned to her friends.

  “What did you find?” asked Brackentail.

  “A way out, I think. Just a few winglengths that way I can feel the water sifting upward.”
r />   “That’s good,” said Brackentail.

  “Not if it’s leading to a dead end,” said Dewberry.

  “Well, if I don’t come back, then it’s a dead end.” Morningleaf nickered as if she were joking, but her friends just blinked at her in silence.

  “I’m coming with you,” said Brackentail.

  Morningleaf peered into his soft golden eyes, opening her mouth to speak.

  “You can’t change my mind,” he said.

  She exhaled, nodding. “All right, follow me.” He jumped into the water, and she led him back the way she’d come. When they reached the spot where the river filled the entire tunnel, they each took a huge breath and dived under the surface. They paddled on and then upward, toward the dim light above.

  Soon, Morningleaf’s heart was thudding. She thought they’d hit the surface by now, but they were still swimming, and she’d passed the point where she had enough air to turn back. With her chest burning, she glanced behind her, but it was too dark to see Brackentail. She swiveled her ears, hearing only the quiet swish of her paddling hooves.

  Morningleaf swam on. Her lungs swelled. Sharp cramps seized her gut. Desperate now, she bolted, kicking as hard as she could and wondering if Brackentail was doing the same. Was there no end to this tunnel?

  Her muscles clenched in a spasm.

  Her brain shut down.

  Her mouth opened.

  Then she burst through to the surface. A second later, Brackentail emerged beside her. They pulled hard on the fresh air, sucking at it like starving newborns. “We made it,” she gasped.

  They were floating in a small watering hole nestled deep within a rock basin in the Wastelands. Far away a lone coyote slunk into the shadows, disturbed by their sudden presence. Morningleaf stared up at the sky. The moon was a sliver, casting a pale glow, but she didn’t see any winged patrols flying in the sky.

  Brackentail dragged himself out of the watering hole, sniffed the wind, and flicked his ears. “It’s quiet,” he said.

  Morningleaf also pulled herself out, and she stood, shivering on the shore, dreading the moment of going back into the water. “We’d better return for the others,” she said. “Before they decide we’ve drowned.”

  Brackentail tossed his mane. “Why don’t you keep watch? I’ll get them.”

  “But—”

  He lowered his head. “I’d feel safer if you stayed and protected the area. I don’t want to come back and find a pack of coyotes here.”

  Morningleaf peered at him, knowing he wasn’t afraid of coyotes, but she understood the reasoning behind his plea: he didn’t think she’d survive that swim a second time. She’d barely had enough air the first time, and now her legs were trembling. Brackentail was larger, and he could hold his breath longer, but he also knew that she wouldn’t stay behind without a reason, and lame as it was, he had given her one: to keep watch for coyotes. Morningleaf studied him, feeling grateful and curious. For the second time he’d said the exact words she needed to hear. “Okay, I’ll keep watch.”

  He nodded and lifted off. “I’m going to get a flying start.” He flew several winglengths in the air, and then he dived like an eagle into the water, splashing down and disappearing into the depths.

  It seemed forever that she waited, but then each of her friends surfaced in the watering hole and swam to shore, breathless but safe.

  “So far the way is clear,” said Morningleaf. “No Nightwing. No Ice Warriors.” She nudged Brackentail fondly with her muzzle. “And no coyotes.”

  Bumblewind climbed out of the water and swept his eyes across the dusty canyon. “The first thing we need to do is find food.” Then quickly, before anyone could harass him for saying it, Bumblewind added, “Tell me you aren’t starving?”

  Morningleaf’s belly had shriveled like an old blackberry, but she hadn’t noticed that until Bumblewind mentioned it. “He’s right,” she said. “We need to rebuild our strength.”

  “We’ll eat soon, but not yet,” said Hazelwind, glancing behind them. “We need to find better cover. I’ll fly a quick patrol, see what I can find.” He lifted off, sweeping a radius around them, watching for Ice Warriors, and then he landed. “There’s nothing here but desert. We’ll have to stick close to the canyon walls and travel until morning. Farther inland there will be trees and plants to eat—the faster we move, the faster we’ll find them.” He cantered off and soon settled into an efficient lope. They traveled by hoof since Morningleaf couldn’t fly and they were all too tired to carry her.

  “And what about Nightwing?” asked Morningleaf, following her brother.

  “We know he’s heading east to the Flatlands. We’ll follow, keeping our distance. Once he settles the herd, we’ll hide as close as we dare to keep watch on him, and we’ll wait for Star to find us. As long as it takes.”

  Morningleaf nodded, shuddering as a desert breeze blew across her water-soaked hide. Beside her, Brackentail loped and listened for danger. She felt safe between her brother and her friend, and she took the rare opportunity to relax, to let them worry about what happened next. Her thoughts drifted to Star. She’d done everything she could to protect him, and so had his guardian herd, but now the pegasi were captured, and she couldn’t fly, and Star was alone. She knew he was looking for them—and the hope of seeing him again kept her moving forward, in spite of the thin voice in her head that told her all was lost.

  12

  FAMILY

  STAR AND FROSTFIRE SWOOPED DOWN FROM THE clouds and hurtled across the hot, flat desert. They’d left Jungle Herd’s territory two days earlier, and they’d been searching Western Anok for sixteen days since Nightwing had captured the pegasi. Today they arrived in the Desert Herd lands, and Star marveled at the wide expanse of dusty soil, as unmarked as the ocean, dotted only with scrubby brush and short cacti.

  “It’s bleak,” said Star. The Red Rock Mountains and the steady march of the sun across the sky were his only reference points for navigation. His sharp eyes could see for miles in every direction, and there was no sign of pegasi, let alone twelve thousand of them. The striated mesas of the scarlet mountain range, however, piqued his interest. The plateaus were stepped and angular. Deep canyons created sheer cliff walls that were pocked with thousands of caves. “Look there,” said Star. “Are those caves deep enough to hide pegasi?”

  Frostfire nodded. “Yes, those caves are the homes of the Desert Herd steeds. Each family has one.”

  “This is the last territory,” Star reminded Frostfire. “If we don’t find Nightwing here, then it’s time for you to take me to the place where he plans to settle them. All along, we keep missing him.”

  “I know. He’s making good time flying with such a large herd,” said Frostfire.

  “And they have nursing foals with them,” said Star, shaking his mane. “He should be stopping often to rest, making it easy for us to catch him. The mothers will have to wean their foals early to keep his pace, and that’s not healthy.”

  Star swooped toward the desert canyons, feeling the dry air burn his lungs. He and Frostfire hovered along the cliff walls, examining the caves. They darted up and down the steep divide, searching for fresh signs of pegasi. Each cave was about the size of the one Star had lived in on the coast of Anok, just large enough to hold four or five steeds comfortably. “Are the caves connected?” he asked Frostfire.

  “Not that I remember,” said the stallion. “I was here to fight, not to explore, you know.” They landed inside a cave to look around.

  Star’s hooves clattered as he explored the foreign steeds’ home. The rock floor was worn smooth from years of pegasi lying on it. Layers of ferns and feathers softened the area. The rest of the rocky surface was scuffed with hoof marks. Three straight red lines were painted on one wall. “What are these?” Star asked, tracing the lines with his wingtips.

  “Desert Herd uses ochre to mark their caves. Three lines mean that three pegasi live in this one. It’s how they count their numbers.”

  “Mo
rningleaf would love to see this,” Star said, his spine tingling. “She counts well in her head, but I think she’d be interested in these lines that keep track of pegasi.”

  Frostfire erased the red ochre with his wing and started walking away. “Well, no one lives here now. Let’s move on.”

  Star flew out of the home, feeling suddenly claustrophobic as the truth slammed him. Western Anok was empty; all the pegasi were gone. He spread his wings and glided through the narrow, hot canyons. The air in front of him rippled, and his sweat dried instantly as the sun scorched his back. “There’s no one left,” he whinnied to Frostfire.

  The white stallion cruised beside him, trying to comfort him. “We’ll find them, Star.”

  Star leaked tears, and a trail of white flowers sprouted up through the dry, solid ground. Frostfire stared at them, almost crashing into Star. “That’s incredible.”

  Star shook his head. “Not really.” He could grow flowers and heal wounds, but what use was that against Nightwing?

  “Come on,” said Frostfire, trying to distract Star. “I think it’s time I washed these ashes out of my hide.” He veered left, and Star followed, soaring over the flat desert at top speed. Soon they were descending into another, much smaller canyon. Star drifted over the ridge and sucked in his breath at the sight below his hooves. After miles and miles of flat, brown terrain, the river ahead was an oasis of lush, green foliage and clear, rushing water.

  The stallions landed on the shore.

  “This is the Tail River,” said Frostfire. “It travels from the Black Lake through the Wastelands, and then dumps into the Sea of Rain.”

  “Do crocodiles live here?” Star asked, thinking of the jungle.

  Frostfire nickered. “No, this water is safe.”

  The two plunged into the cool, wide river that ran through the divide. Star heard the distant roar of a waterfall and inhaled the comforting scent of damp soil that drifted from the shore. He ducked under the surface and swam with his eyes open. Large trout flitted past him, unafraid. He dived to the bottom, and then he cruised just over the small pebbles and plants on the river floor, swimming upstream so as not to end up tumbling down the waterfall.