The Guardian Herd

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

  Star agreed, and they oriented their path with the sun and then flew back toward the valley. It was raining, and the clouds were dark gray but not ominous. The tornado had passed over and moved on. The air warmed, and the bugs resumed their chatter. The worst of the spring storm was over.

  Star drew up his camouflage and disappeared against the big sky before anyone could spot him flying back with Silverlake. Large sections of the Flatlands were ravaged where the tornado had touched down, but the rest looked the same. The dire wolves had returned, and Star saw them feasting on a dead buffalo. The Wind Herd steeds stood in the shallow valley basin, and the massive tribute stood tall, reaching toward the clouds. Frostfire’s input on how to build a strong base and to reinforce it with river clay had withstood an incredible test of strength.

  “I am ten stones short of finishing the tribute,” Star said to Silverlake. “Ten stones, and then this is over.”

  A black shadow flapped across the trampled ground. It was Nightwing returning to the valley.

  “I have to get back,” he said.

  “Star?” Silverlake turned her dark eyes to his, and Star melted into her warm gaze. “No matter what happens next, know that I’m proud of you.” Her voice echoed like a dream, and Star inhaled sharply, overcome by a sudden feeling of dread.

  “What is it?” asked Silverlake, her voice rising.

  “I don’t know. Something is wrong.” Star looked into her eyes, and suddenly he was sure with all his breath that he would never speak to her again. But why? His blood turned to ice as the dread washed over him again. He whipped his head toward the valley and the forest, toward his friends. The planet seemed to tilt, and he was certain of one thing: someone was in great danger.

  “I have to go!” Star bolted forward, his words flying away with the wind.

  32

  BURIED

  MORNINGLEAF STUCK HER HEAD OUTSIDE THE den. “The tornado is gone,” she said to Brackentail. It had ripped across the sky, landed on the plain, and then swept through the forest, touching down near the blind where the tunnel was hidden. Inside the den the walls had shaken and dirt had fallen on Morningleaf’s head, but the storm had passed, and the cottonwood forest had burst back to life.

  It was the eighth day, and they’d rescued a total of one hundred and forty pegasi. Tonight, twenty more would leave, and then forty more over the next two days. Hazelwind and Dewberry escorted the refugees to the lake many miles away to wait for the rest.

  “Hazelwind and Dewberry should be back by now,” said Morningleaf, pacing in the small chamber.

  “I’m sure they saw the storm and took cover,” said Brackentail.

  Morningleaf halted. “You’re right. It’s just . . . we’re so close to the final day. I’m afraid everything will go wrong. Many moons of planning will be wasted.”

  Brackentail pricked his ears. “No, nothing will be wasted. Remember, our true hope is in Star. The tunnel, the escape, it’s just a backup plan. He’s not going to fail. He will defeat Nightwing.”

  Morningleaf met Brackentail’s gaze and relaxed. His loyalty and devotion had long ago erased her memories of the brutish colt he’d been, and Brackentail had transformed in every way. Always big and gangly for his age, he’d grown into a handsome stallion. A glossy sheen enhanced his dark-orange feathers, long brown lashes bordered his golden eyes, and his handsome, unmarked brown face had become the very trait that made him stand out among the pegasi. “I feel like my whole life has led up to this moment,” she said to him.

  Brackentail snorted. “That’s because it has.”

  The fluttering of giant wings caught Morningleaf’s attention and blew back her mane, but the approaching winged steed was invisible. “Star!” she whinnied.

  Her best friend landed and turned visible, and she flung herself into his wings. “What’s wrong?” she asked him. “You’re shaking?”

  “I don’t know, but I have a very bad feeling that none of us are safe.”

  “We aren’t,” she said honestly.

  “I know, but this is different. You all must leave tonight. Take the one hundred and forty steeds you’ve already rescued and go, leave Anok.”

  “Did something happen?” asked Morningleaf.

  Star shook his head. “Maybe it’s just the storm, but I feel like something isn’t right, and I don’t think we should wait another day. One hundred and forty is enough to start a new herd, so go.”

  Morningleaf glanced at Brackentail.

  “If Star feels that strongly about it, then I agree. We’ll leave now,” said Brackentail.

  “Not now,” said Star. “It has to be tonight. We have one more pegasus we must rescue: Larksong. I promised Frostfire.”

  Morningleaf twitched, irritated, but said, “Okay, I’ll tell my brother and Echofrost.”

  “I already told her,” said Star. “In fact, she’s probably in the tunnel now on her way here.”

  “We’ll meet her at the blind,” said Brackentail.

  “Then this is good-bye,” said Star. He extended his wings, and the three huddled together, with Bumblewind’s absence still aching between them. “You aren’t just my friends,” said Star. “You’re my guardians.” He gazed at each of them. “No black foal can survive without help, and you two have given me . . . everything.” Star pressed his forehead against theirs and then stepped back. “Now lead the pegasi home.”

  “Home?” asked Morningleaf.

  Star nodded. “When I was a foal, I thought home was where you lived. When I was a yearling warrior, I thought home was where you died. But now that I’m an adult stallion, I know that home is where you love. Go find a new home on the southern continent and then spread our kind across the planet.” He arched his proud neck. “Make new legends.”

  Morningleaf’s tears rolled down her cheeks. “You’ll meet us there, right?”

  Star nuzzled her, not answering, and Morningleaf and Brackentail pressed against him a final time. “I have one more thing to do,” said Star. He panted, drawing up his starfire.

  Morningleaf watched him, stunned as usual by the glittering power that radiated from his hide in waves of warmth. She’d been healed several times and had grown to love the sensation. She waited expectantly. Then Star opened his mouth and doused her dead black feathers with his golden light. Morningleaf spread her wings as the tendrils of starfire curled around her feathers, healing them down to their roots. With great satisfaction, she watched them grow longer and turn from charred black to shimmering aqua blue.

  When he was finished, she rushed to Star’s side and wrapped her healed wings around his neck, unable to speak but radiating joy. She sniffed his mane, and it smelled like the grasses of Dawn Meadow. To her, he was home.

  “Fly,” Star whispered, “and don’t look back.” His words urged Morningleaf and Brackentail into the wind. They flew fast and low, but Morningleaf, who never did as she was told, looked back.

  Star waved, and she saw a waterfall of tears sliding down his cheeks and a wreath of white flowers growing around his hooves. Her heart squeezed tight. Would she ever see him again?

  Then Star lifted off toward the valley, passed through a cloudbank, and disappeared.

  When Morningleaf and Brackentail arrived at the tunnel, Morningleaf put her head inside and listened, feeling the same anxiety that Star had described. “Something is wrong,” she said to Brackentail.

  “Shh, I hear hoofbeats coming,” he said. “Who’s there?” he neighed into the passageway.

  A muffled voice answered. “It’s Echofrost. I have to get a message to Hazelwind about Frostfire and Larksong.”

  “Hazelwind’s not here,” whinnied Morningleaf, “but we know about Larksong. Star told us.”

  “Okay,” Echofrost huffed. “I’m alm—”

  The ground rumbled, and then Morningleaf heard the heavy thud of falling dirt. Dust billowed from the entrance of the tunnel. Morningleaf and Brackentail fell backward, coughing and covered in dirt. They scrambled to their hooves a
nd raced back to the entrance. “Echofrost!” screamed Morningleaf.

  There was no answer.

  Morningleaf gaped at the dark hole, which continued to shudder and exhale dust, wondering how much of the passageway had fallen. “Echofrost!”

  All their hard work—and maybe Echofrost herself—was buried.

  Brackentail stuck his head inside, neighing for Echofrost, but there was still no answer from her. “I’m going in,” he whinnied, and charged into the collapsing passageway.

  Morningleaf rushed to follow him but halted at the entrance, her hooves rooted to the ground. “Wait,” she whispered, choking on dust. Morningleaf stared at the black tunnel, listening to it shudder, knowing it was caving in, that it was growing tighter and smaller . . . and her mind sailed back to the lava tubes where Frostfire had imprisoned her. She’d hidden in that utter blackness for days, starving and with rats crawling over her hooves. Morningleaf’s legs trembled as though she were there again.

  These aren’t the lava tubes, she told herself.

  But her hooves wouldn’t budge.

  Then Echofrost screamed.

  Morningleaf snapped back to the present and galloped into the tunnel. Dust and debris crashed around her as the tunnel crumbled. “Where are you?” she whinnied.

  “We’re here!” answered Brackentail. Morningleaf reached them at a point in the passageway that was about halfway to the pond. The sky was visible above her where the land had caved in and buried most of Echofrost. “Grab a leg,” Brackentail said.

  Morningleaf wrapped her wings around one front leg, and Brackentail had the other. They pulled, and Echofrost screamed again. “My back leg is caught on something, maybe a tree root.”

  “We have to dig her out,” said Brackentail.

  Morningleaf bit back her terror. She and Brackentail scooped dirt away from Echofrost until they discovered the thick root trapping her. Morningleaf twisted Echofrost’s leg to free it. Her friend groaned.

  “I’m sorry,” said Morningleaf.

  They pulled Echofrost upright. The tunnel quaked again, and more dirt slammed their backs.

  “Run!” neighed Brackentail.

  The three of them galloped toward the light at the forest-end of the tunnel. Echofrost limped badly, but fear kept her moving. Behind them the tunnel slammed in on itself. Field mice and snakes passed them, racing for their lives, and Morningleaf swallowed her screams. A clump of dirt smacked her tailbone—the tunnel was coming down—all of it!

  The three friends burst out of the darkness just as the rest of the tunnel collapsed, closing off all escape from the valley. Morningleaf skidded to a halt, almost crashing into a dark-gray mare who stood waiting for them.

  It was Petalcloud! Her Ice Warriors stood behind her with their ears pinned and their eyes triumphant.

  “No!” Morningleaf cried, confused.

  But it wasn’t the sight of Petalcloud that shocked Morningleaf the most; it was the stallion standing next to her.

  Frostfire.

  “Seize her,” said the white stallion to the Ice Warriors.

  And Morningleaf knew instantly that he had betrayed them all.

  33

  LIAR

  STAR COASTED OVER THE EASTERN SWELLS. THE pegasi were back in the valley, chased there by the storm. They were haggard, windblown, and tired. Sharp peals of mourning lifted into the sky over the pegasi who’d been killed by the stampede, the wolves, and the tornado. Silverlake had made it safely back after he’d left her in the grassland, and she was standing with Sweetroot, tending to distressed steeds. Other than the obvious, nothing unusual seemed amiss.

  Star glided to the stone tribute and flew circles around it. From a distance it had looked intact, but up close he saw massive damage. The clay had cracked between the stones, and hundreds of rocks had fallen, leaving a huge chunk open on one side. Dust billowed around him, making him cough. Star landed and whistled for Frostfire. When the stallion didn’t immediately appear, Star whistled for him again. “Frostfire?”

  There was no answer.

  “I’m back!” Star called out. Then he heard hoofbeats behind him. Star whirled around and found Frostfire, side by side with his mother and her guard. Star leaped backward. “What’s this?” he asked, looking from the white stallion to Petalcloud to Stormtail.

  “It’s over, Star,” said Frostfire, looking resigned. “All of it: the tunnel, the tribute, the plan.”

  “What do you mean over?” Star’s heart thudded hard, sending his pulse racing. And why had Frostfire mentioned the tunnel in front of Petalcloud! He scanned Frostfire for injuries, wondering if her guard had attacked him or tortured him, but he seemed unharmed. “Did they hurt you?” Star asked his uncle.

  Petalcloud pranced forward, swishing her tail. “He doesn’t get it,” she nickered to Frostfire.

  “Get what?” Star forced himself to take deep breaths, but he felt his gut twisting like a snake.

  Petalcloud gazed up at him, her black eyes shining. “Frostfire has made a deal . . . with me.”

  Star reared as the ground seemed to swirl beneath him. “Frostfire!” he screamed. “What have you done?”

  His uncle flattened his ears. “I made promises too,” he said, his voice ragged. “To Larksong. She can’t eat or sleep; she’s molting. They took our son, and I promised I’d get him back, but I was fair to you, Star. I helped you find your friends, I stayed by your side while you built this tribute, and then you didn’t save my mare or my colt, did you? And now it’s too late—the tunnel is ruined. I had to do something.”

  “Ruined? How?”

  “It collapsed, just a few moments ago.”

  Star’s heart lurched. Morningleaf and Brackentail had just flown there! This explained his feeling of dread—it was about the tunnel! “Was anyone inside?” he asked, afraid of the answer.

  “Yes, someone was,” answered Petalcloud. “Someone we all thought was dead until Frostfire told us where to find her.”

  Star grunted. He knew exactly who Petalcloud was talking about, but he lifted his eyes to Frostfire’s, hoping he was wrong. “Tell me you didn’t,” he pleaded, his voice strangled.

  “I did,” said Frostfire. “I traded Morningleaf for Starfrost. My colt is being returned to Larksong right now, and Nightwing is setting my family free.”

  Star saw that Frostfire took no pleasure in what he’d done but that he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

  Star faced Petalcloud. “Where’s Morningleaf now?” he asked, fearing the worst, that she’d died in the tunnel.

  Petalcloud curled her lip, then quickly softened her expression—but not before Star had seen the white flash of her teeth. “She’s safe; she’s with Nightwing.”

  Star’s veins turned to ice. “Safe?” he spat, and suddenly he understood what Frostfire had been feeling since Nightwing took his son: panicked. “A good lead mare would never allow this—any of this,” said Star, his lips trembling.

  She snorted, tossing her glossy silver mane off her dark neck. “Do you think I wanted to trade Starfrost for Morningleaf? I didn’t, but I can’t stop Nightwing, and neither can you. I’ve chosen his protection.”

  “You’ve chosen our destruction!”

  Star turned on his uncle, his anger bubbling hotter. “And you! Maybe I didn’t save your mare . . . yet . . . but I didn’t harm her either. Nightwing will kill Morningleaf.”

  Frostfire averted his eyes but remained stoic. “I saved my family, Star.”

  I’m your family too, Star thought, but Frostfire had made it clear during their travels that he didn’t feel the same connection.

  Petalcloud fluffed her feathers. “You can’t trust a liar, Star.”

  Star’s wings fell to his sides. “You’re right,” he said to Petalcloud. “But I did.”

  “Twice,” she said. Petalcloud glowed with pleasure over giving Star the news that he’d been betrayed. “Your plan is ruined, the rebels are revealed, and your best friend is captured. What do you have to say abou
t that?”

  “Nothing to you.” Star lifted off and flapped his giant black wings, heading toward the valley, toward Nightwing.

  34

  THE TRIBUTE

  STAR SOARED OVER THE VALLEY OF PEGASI, hunting for the Destroyer. Below him he saw the collapsed tunnel. It appeared as a long, jagged rip in the green grass, leading from the pond toward the forest in the south. The Wind Herd steeds huddled in their separate groups, confused and with their necks craned, calling to herdmates across the valley, whinnying for news.

  Star flew low, just as the clouds parted and the hot sun lit the valley, casting his shadow across Wind Herd. They looked up at him, and their rumblings ceased. Star saw Sweetroot and Silverlake and all the rest who had not left the valley. The sight of Star gliding overhead calmed their panic. We’ve come a long way, he thought, remembering the days when a glimpse of him caused terror.

  Star hovered over the heads of the Wind Herd guards. “Where’s Nightwing,” he trumpeted. He saw no sign of Morningleaf.

  The Ice Warriors cast their eyes toward Petalcloud, who had flown to the hill next to the tribute and stood alone.

  She glanced at the sky, her eyes triumphant.

  Then another shadow passed by the sun, shading the stone tribute and then angling toward Star. It was Nightwing. He circled the valley, his eyes focused on Wind Herd. He opened his mouth and scorched the grass with silver fire. The pegasi galloped toward the woods.

  “Hold steady,” Star neighed to them, pitching his voice so low his words vibrated their ribs. Only over-stallions spoke this way, and the twelve thousand steeds halted, instantly responding to his authority and standing at attention, ready for his next command. Star sighed, realizing he couldn’t change the inherent nature of pegasi. They responded to strength and power, and this kept order in their massive herds, but it was also their greatest weakness when that power was abused.

  Star whirled, facing Nightwing. It was time to rid Anok, and the Beyond, of the Destroyer; and it was time for Star to rise to what he believed was his true destiny. It wasn’t to unite or conquer the herds, or to heal or destroy the pegasi; it was to defend them. Frostfire had been right about that much. “Set Wind Herd free,” Star commanded. “Let them go.”