The Guardian Herd: Landfall

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

  “I think he’s alive,” she answered.

  “You think so?” Silverlake sounded disappointed.

  Sweetroot stood and folded her wings. “The truth is, I can’t hear a heartbeat, but if this happened when you say it did, then his body would have begun to . . . you know . . . to decay.”

  A collective gasp coursed through the watching pegasi.

  “But there’s no sign of that happening to Star,” she assured them. “He seems asleep, but it’s so deep I can’t wake him.”

  “Like he’s knocked out?” asked Shadepebble.

  “No. He’s deeper than that. Whatever it is, it’s not natural, but then, neither is he.” Sweetroot wrung her feathers, distressed and unsure. “I’ll do what I can for him. He might wake up. We’ll have to wait and see.”

  Silverlake turned to Dewberry. “Please inform the other herds and call the United Council to meet tonight, at the twin pines.”

  Dewberry nodded, trotted down an animal path, and disappeared.

  Later that evening, Silverlake left River Herd’s camp and followed a trail to the twin pines—two massive coniferous trees that were identical in shape and size. The trees were so large, they impaired the growth of smaller trees, and it was one of the few places in the Trap where pegasi could gather in numbers. The United Council met there, with each herd sending a representative.

  After several hours, Silverlake returned and reported the discussion to River Herd’s council, and to all the River Herd pegasi who’d gathered to listen. They were curious and on edge, as was Morningleaf.

  “We’ve decided we have no choice but to continue hiding in the Trap,” she said. “Sweetroot doesn’t believe Star’s body should be moved again unless it’s an emergency. And with Nightwing hunting for followers, the sky isn’t safe.”

  The gathered pegasi glanced upward and tensed. The sky had never been a domain they feared.

  “There are thousands of pegasi out there who chose not to hide with us,” Silverlake added, nodding toward the vast space outside the Trap. “Those steeds could become . . . quite dangerous to us if they join Nightwing. We need to know what they’re doing, which side they are taking.”

  “What do you mean ‘which side’?” asked Dewberry. “We’re all against Nightwing, aren’t we?”

  Clawfire interrupted. “You haven’t seen Nightwing yet. His power surpasses what I imagined. It will be difficult for pegasi to resist his authority.”

  “We can’t live here forever,” said Bumblewind.

  Silverlake flicked her tail nervously. “We won’t. We will act, but not until we have more information.”

  “Echofrost and Hazelwind are spying on Nightwing,” explained Morningleaf to the River Herd steeds.

  “Yes, and until they return, we’ll wait.” Silverlake clapped her wings. “That’s it for now.”

  The pegasi dispersed, and Morningleaf trotted back to Star, falling asleep by his side.

  Six days later, Echofrost and Hazelwind returned, streaming blood and galloping through the trees like they were on fire. “Gather!” neighed Hazelwind. “We bring news.”

  7

  NEWS

  “CALL THE HERDS TOGETHER,” HAZELWIND CRIED as he dropped his haunches and skidded to a halt.

  “This news is for everyone,” Echofrost added, sliding up beside him.

  Morningleaf trotted close to her brother and Echofrost. “You’re hurt,” she whinnied.

  “It’s nothing,” said Echofrost. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Follow me,” said Silverlake. She whirled around and cantered east. Echofrost and Hazelwind followed, along with Morningleaf and the River Herd stallions and mares who’d been grazing nearby.

  Morningleaf examined her brother and Echofrost closely, noticing they cantered without limping; their breaths were fast but normal for galloping steeds. Their hides were scratched up as if by thorns, but they weren’t as injured as they appeared.

  When they reached the twin pines, Silverlake called for the other three herds. Soon, all pegasi within earshot had gathered, including Ashrain, Redfire, and Birchcloud from the United Council.

  Echofrost wasted no time. “I’ve been following Nightwing,” she began, still panting. “He’s been trumpeting for followers across Anok. A few times I lost him, and I think he was riding the jet streams. But his voice—it carries like no other; it’s powered by starfire. Every steed in Anok has heard him by now.”

  Ashrain nodded. “His call reached us here.”

  “The herds are hiding from him, right?” asked Bumblewind, his eyes trained on his twin sister.

  She snorted. “It’s the opposite.” Echofrost took a gulp of air, staring at the pegasi around her, waiting for all mumbling to cease. Then she spoke. “They’ve answered his call. All of them.”

  The gathered pegasi shrank from her words. “No,” whispered Bumblewind. “That can’t be.”

  “It’s worse than that,” she said. “Nightwing knows he injured Star, that his body is so damaged he’s dead, or as good as dead. He says his connection to Star’s mind has been severed, and he . . .” Echofrost glanced at Morningleaf, grimacing.

  “What is it?” breathed Morningleaf.

  “He’s offered to make a pact with the first steed who”—Echofrost lashed her tail and tears raced down her cheeks—“who brings him Star’s head.”

  “His head!” Morningleaf staggered sideways, and Bumblewind caught her in his wings.

  Echofrost nodded. “Yes, to ensure that Star can’t heal himself, that he’s truly dead.”

  Her words stunned the gathered pegasi. Morningleaf sobbed, but it was wrath that fueled her tears. Her belly churned like the sea, and the forest floor swayed beneath her hooves. She covered her face with her aqua feathers, her heart wilting like a severed rose. His head? A battle cry bubbled deep within her chest and surged toward her throat. She gritted her teeth and tamped it down, saving her anger for the Destroyer. Morningleaf vowed in her heart to defy him.

  As she collected her emotions, Redfire, the tall, copper-colored captain from the Desert Herd camp, spoke. “Did any steeds accept this offer?”

  “Yes,” said Hazelwind. “Petalcloud and Frostfire, and they’ve already formed two armies to destroy us if we try to stop them.”

  Morningleaf flattened her ears, controlling her breathing. She was not surprised to hear Frostfire’s name. He was the Mountain Herd captain who’d volunteered to hide her from Nightwing, at Star’s request, but then he’d killed her personal guards and stolen her, holding her hostage in the lava tubes of the volcano Firemouth. Frostfire and his over-stallion, Rockwing, had planned to use her to control Star, but that plan had failed when she’d escaped. She blanched at the memory of the horrible black tubes beneath the belching volcano in Jungle Herd’s territory.

  But Morningleaf was also not surprised to hear the name of the Snow Herd mare, Petalcloud. She was Frostfire’s dam, and she’d traded him, her first and only colt, for her freedom from Mountain Herd. She would never lead there as long as her sire was over-stallion and her mother was lead mare, but Rockwing wouldn’t let Petalcloud join another herd until she met his condition: a weanling colt. All his foals had been born dead, save his two fillies, Petalcloud and Shadepebble, but he was willing to give Petalcloud up in exchange for Frostfire. And now mother and son were seeking to enhance their power.

  Redfire rattled his feathers. “They will rush the Trap. They know we’re hiding here.”

  Morningleaf lifted her head, looking at Echofrost. “Are Frostfire and Petalcloud working together or against each other?”

  Echofrost twisted her ears, listening as always for danger. “Against each other.”

  “Of course,” hissed Morningleaf.

  Echofrost continued. “Nightwing allowed them to select warriors from the thousands of pegasi who answered his call. Petalcloud chose the biggest, nastiest steeds, and she calls them her Ice Warriors. Frostfire chose smaller, highly skilled warriors, and he cal
ls them his Black Army. The rest of the pegasi, the elders, and new mothers, are living in the Blue Mountains with Nightwing.”

  Brackentail, the big brown yearling who’d once tried to kill Star but then had been accepted by him, stepped forward. “But why would they join Nightwing? What about their territories and their over-stallions?”

  Redfire startled. “Yes, what happened to Twistwing, Sandwing, and Smokewing?”

  “Sandwing is here,” said Bumblewind, interrupting.

  Redfire shook his dark-red mane. “No, he’s not. Not anymore. He returned to Desert Herd when he’d heard that Nightwing had made landfall in Anok. He left me in charge of our herdmates here.”

  Echofrost watched them, her eyes glowing. “Sandwing is dead. Nightwing used the jet streams to fly to each territory, where he executed the over-stallions. All of them. And then he took their steeds. The territories are empty.”

  Morningleaf gasped, and her heart ached afresh for her sire, and for all the mighty pegasi who were now gone. “He’s killing his rivals,” she whispered.

  Echofrost heard her. “Yes. And Star is the last one.”

  Brackentail flattened his ears. “But he knows Star’s badly injured. Why doesn’t Nightwing come after Star himself?”

  Morningleaf’s muscles twitched at his words. She wanted to fight the Destroyer, though she knew he’d kill her in a breath.

  “I don’t think Nightwing wants another run-in with that army of weanling Ancestors that came down and protected Star,” answered Echofrost. “And he’s still recovering from his hundreds of years of hibernation, and his recent battle with Star. It hurt him more than he let on. Nightwing’s starfire might be strong, but his body is weak. And by offering a pact, he’s testing the pegasi, finding out who’s loyal to him.”

  “Where are these two armies now?” asked Redfire.

  Echofrost raised her voice so all could hear. “Petalcloud took the Ice Warriors to her home in the north to train. Frostfire took the Black Army to the empty Sun Herd lands to strengthen and train them. Both are preparing to attack, but they aren’t sure where Star is.” Echofrost glanced at Silverlake. “Nightwing saw you all flying west with Star, toward the coast. As far as the armies are concerned, he could be anywhere, and Petalcloud doesn’t think you’d be . . . stupid enough to hide him in the Trap. Sorry, those were her words.”

  Silverlake huffed but looked pleased that she’d fooled Star’s enemies.

  Hazelwind glanced at Morningleaf. “Nightwing has given them two clues: that you flew west, and that Star’s body is with the ‘blue-winged filly.’ He told them that if they found her, they’d find Star.”

  Morningleaf reeled at this news. How did Nightwing know that she wouldn’t leave Star’s side? Had his connection to Star’s mind shown him the depth of her devotion?

  Echofrost continued. “Before Frostfire and Petalcloud left to prepare their armies, they each dispatched scouts across Anok—they’re flying through the territories and searching the Vein, the coast, and they’re coming to the Trap. Once Star or Morningleaf are spotted, they will report back and then the armies will move out in force.”

  “What are we going to do against two armies?” asked Bumblewind.

  “When they come, we’ll unite our forces,” said Hazelwind, filling his voice with the rumbling timbre of an over-stallion to catch the attention of every steed. The pegasi turned to him, listening.

  “We’re Star’s guardian herd,” Hazelwind neighed. “It’s our duty by the Hundred Year Star to protect him or kill him.” He glanced at each steed, many who came from foreign herds. “Don’t make the mistake I made. I thought following Star meant that he would keep me safe. No!” Hazelwind stamped his hoof. “Following Star means that I keep him safe. That is what a guardian does, and I failed Star once, when I abandoned him to start my own herd. I won’t do it again.” He arched his neck, making eye contact with each steed he could. “Today, right now, you will commit your lives to Star, to protect the black foal to his death or yours, or you will leave the Trap.”

  The pegasi listened to him, their silence heavy, their breath steaming, and then Brackentail spoke. “I vow my life to Star.”

  And then Redfire from Desert Herd, and Ashrain from Jungle Herd, and Birchcloud from Mountain Herd vowed the same, and from there the pegasi raised their voices in a cheer, each and every one vowing to protect the black foal. Star, oblivious to all of them, rested in the moss, too damaged to breathe.

  Morningleaf broke into fresh sobs, shedding tears of gratitude, and chaos erupted. The herds were going to war. The newborns bleated, hovering over their mothers like anxious birds. Battle mares and stallions lashed their tails, feathers buzzing, and the elderly steeds flexed their wings. War. They understood it. It focused them, gave them a purpose.

  But fear needled at Morningleaf. If Petalcloud’s and Frostfire’s scouts searched the Trap, it would only be a matter of time before they discovered her presence or Star’s body. And Sweetroot didn’t think it was wise to move him again. Morningleaf swiveled her ears, her senses thrown into high alert. She was a target, she was the hunted; and her heart thudded against her ribs.

  Shadepebble nuzzled her. “We won’t let them get Star,” she said. “And we can hide you too, to keep you safe.”

  If the armies find me, they’ll find Star. Morningleaf’s thoughts tumbled through her head, and an idea formed. “Come here!” She snatched Shadepebble’s wing and drew her away from the group. “Hide me? No. I need to be seen!”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s simple. I can lure the armies away from the Trap.”

  “Like a decoy?” Shadepebble’s pulse raced in her neck as she thought about Morningleaf’s words. “It’s dangerous, but it’s not a bad idea.”

  Morningleaf studied the pegasi around her who were already arguing about the best way to join their separate herds into one army. “They need time to organize.”

  “And Star needs time to heal,” said Shadepebble. Her eyes shone against the bleakness of the Trap. Night had fallen, and only thin rays of moonlight leaked between the branches overhead. “I’m going with you.”

  “No.”

  Shadepebble set her jaw. “Star saved me from drowning and healed my wounds from that ice tiger that attacked me and Clawfire. I’m going. I can keep you safe.”

  Her tone was resolute, and so Morningleaf reluctantly agreed.

  “I heard you talking,” said Brackentail, trotting closer to them. “I owe him too. Star accepted me when no one else would. Without him, I would be banished, living alone. Please let me come. I can help.”

  Brackentail was strong, that was evident from looking at him. And he owed Star his life, Morningleaf knew that, but he’d once betrayed his herd—her herd. She’d accepted him because Star had, but she still didn’t trust him. She was about to say no when Silverlake approached. “What are you three plotting?” she asked, her gaze boring into her filly.

  Morningleaf nickered; her dam knew her well. “I’m leaving, to draw the armies away from Star.”

  Silverlake exhaled in a long, soft breath. Morningleaf lifted her head, preparing her arguments, but Silverlake hushed her with a word. “Go,” she said.

  “Mama?” Morningleaf could not believe her ears.

  “I’ll gather some River Herd warriors to protect you. Wait here. But I won’t stop you. I can’t stop you.” Silverlake trotted away.

  Morningleaf glanced from Shadepebble to Brackentail. “They’ll need every warrior they have in case we fail,” she said.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Brackentail.

  “If you’re thinking we should leave before she gets back, then yes,” said Morningleaf.

  “I think we’re thinking too much.” Shadepebble spread her wings. “Let’s go!”

  The three yearlings turned and bolted, galloping south to the edge of the Trap. Morningleaf wondered at her two companions—they were brave to follow her, and gratitude sent fresh en
ergy through her muscles. Star’s friends were devoted to him, and the steeds in the Trap had decided to defend him, not abandon him, and this gave her hope—not just for Star—but for all the pegasi of Anok.

  8

  THE ANCESTORS

  “IT’S TIME TO ROLL HIM OVER.”

  The medicine mare’s voice seeped into Star’s mind like rain through dry soil. He latched on to her words and tried to follow them up and out of the black pit of sleep.

  Sweetroot continued. “You grab the hooves; I’ll pull the wing. Bumblewind, you turn his head.”

  “Got him,” said Bumblewind.

  Star heard their words, but he couldn’t open his eyes, or move his body at all. He felt heavy and cold, like he was buried in snow. Where am I? he wondered. What happened to Nightwing? Star remembered battling the Destroyer and then nothing but pain—pain that shred his heart and crushed his thoughts—and then blackness. But now he heard voices, and he began to be aware that days were passing and that he was not dead, but he was stuck. He tried, but he couldn’t wake up.

  “Ready?” Sweetroot asked.

  “Ready,” three voices responded.

  And then they shoved Star, and his body rolled like floating driftwood, tipping, tipping, and then falling to the other side, dragged by the weight of his limbs. Sweetroot rolled him three times a day, so this was nothing new, but every time he hoped to get her attention, to escape the blackness surrounding him.

  Sweetroot’s voice wafted through the dark. “Echofrost, rub that tree sap on his hooves so they don’t dry out. Bumblewind, press these mint leaves in his nostrils. The scent is strong; it might awaken him.”

  Star knew he was being rubbed and prodded, and he was grateful but embarrassed for the help. His starfire had gone dormant in his belly, withdrawing into a tiny, latent ember. Star relived Nightwing’s final blow often in his dreams—the silver beam of fire that had pierced his chest and caused him to fall from the sky, the swirling aqua feather, and Morningleaf’s hot tears on his face. His guardians had hidden him; he was glad to know that. It meant they still believed in him, in spite of his overwhelming failure to destroy Nightwing.