The second time she was captured was when Nightwing had enslaved her and all the pegasi in Anok. He’d forced them to live like horses on the ground, and he’d used his starfire power to kill any steed who disobeyed him. But they’d all escaped merely seven days ago, and now one of them was caught again. Echofrost stood, trembling, her feelings unraveling as she remembered the promise she’d made to Shysong: No pegasus will endure captivity again, not while I’m alive.
Hazelwind folded his jade wings across his back. “I don’t want to leave her behind either, but I think it’s best for the herd. We’re still recovering, and their army is fresh. We should go.”
Echofrost reared and slammed down her front hooves, glaring at Hazelwind as if they were the only two pegasi in the mountains. “We can’t just go! Would you leave me behind too?”
He didn’t answer, but he held her gaze, and in his eyes she saw the truth. He would leave her behind. Of course he would; it was best for the herd—she knew that—but was it right? She grunted, pulling hard for air and feeling dizzy again.
“We tried to save her, Echofrost,” said Dewberry in a soothing tone. “But Shysong’s injured, and she can’t keep up with us. Hazelwind is right. There’s nothing we can do, and we risk losing more steeds if we go back for her. We risk failing our mission.”
But Echofrost wasn’t listening. Her mind reeled with memories from the past, the hauntings of the abuse she’d endured from the Mountain Herd yearlings. She knew what it felt like to be left behind. Thundersky, the past leader of her herd, had not rescued her because she’d willfully trespassed into Mountain Herd’s territory to save a friend. Thundersky wouldn’t risk a war over her disobedience, and she’d understood his decision, but she’d felt hurt and abandoned all the same.
Her jaw tightened and her teeth sank into her cheeks. Her tail twitched from side to side, and she knew everyone was watching her, but she saw only darkness. The dizzy feeling grew stronger.
Her control was crumbling.
Hazelwind walked forward and touched her wing. Adrenaline shot through her and her vision cleared. She whirled on him. He was so like his sire when Thundersky was over-stallion of Sun Herd: protective of the herd as a whole but not of her, and not of Shysong. “I can’t leave her with those Landwalkers,” she whinnied.
Hazelwind pricked his ears. “Echofrost, please . . .”
“I know it’s for the good of all, but it’s not good for Shysong.”
Hazelwind glanced at Dewberry. The pinto mare shrugged. He edged closer to Echofrost.
She jerked away from him. “Don’t come near me.”
“What did I do?” Hazelwind blurted. “What’s this all about?”
Long-suppressed feelings erupted from deep within Echofrost. This was about everything. No! This was about
one thing. Echofrost gasped as her twin brother’s jovial face flashed across her mind, and then the tears finally exploded from her eyes and dripped down her cheeks. “This is about Bumblewind!” she cried.
Hazelwind lifted his head, startled. “What?”
Echofrost turned and flew off the mountain, away from him, away from the shocked stares of her herd. What am I doing? she wondered. I’m losing my mind. She wanted to be alone, so she flew faster and faster, gliding away from her outburst. But her temper cooled quickly and regret washed over her. She landed on steep terrain near a rain-fed river. A bright-red bird cawed at her, and lizards scurried across the wet rocks. The water rushed by, masking her sobs as her body quaked.
Then the rustling of wings broke into her thoughts. She glimpsed emerald feathers and knew it was Dewberry. “What do you want?” Echofrost asked, wiping her eyes.
“Nothing,” said Dewberry. She stood beside Echofrost for a long time. Finally she spoke. “Your brother was my best friend.” Then she shook her black mane. “No, he was more than that. Much more.”
Echofrost shuddered. “I know,” she whispered.
“I wasn’t there when he died either, but your brother
couldn’t be saved. That isn’t Hazelwind’s fault.”
Echofrost groaned.
Dewberry waited a moment and then continued. “I blamed myself too, for not being in the den. He died without me there.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Maybe I could have helped him, but Hazelwind said it happened fast. His injury was just . . . too severe.”
Dewberry let out her breath and thoughtfully stroked her belly with her wing. “But the truth is, me being there wouldn’t have changed a thing. It was his time, that’s all, but Bumblewind will live on with Storm Herd. And I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you until the next day, I truly am; but it wasn’t safe for you, or any of us, to tell you in the valley with Nightwing so close. And I’m sad to say it, but Shysong can’t be saved either. The Kihlari and the Landwalkers outnumber us. If we tangle with them, we’ll lose.”
Echofrost knew Dewberry spoke reason, but she didn’t want to hear it. She wanted Storm Herd and Hazelwind at least to consider saving the mare.
Dewberry rubbed her eyes with her wings. “And I don’t think it’s Hazelwind you’re mad at.”
“What? Yes, I am.”
“No,” said Dewberry, gently shaking her head. “No,
you’re not.” She turned and flew back to the Storm Herd steeds.
Echofrost could see them in the distance, huddled together on the side of the mountain. They were invisible from the sky, because of the limestone overhang, but she stood at their level, just on a different ridge, and so she saw them well.
Embarrassment crept through her, making her feel hot. She’d had a fit, like a foal, and in front of everyone. Her wings sagged at her sides. She watched Hazelwind through lowered lashes. His jade feathers glinted in the sun as it dropped lower. He stood with Graystone and Redfire. They were talking, probably about her. Hazelwind glanced her way, and she couldn’t read his expression at this distance, but Dewberry was wrong. She was angry with Hazelwind. Not just for burying her brother without telling her, but for deciding so quickly to abandon Shysong.
But if the Storm Herd steeds agreed with him, what could she do about it?
Echofrost gathered herself and flew back to her friends. She landed and silently picked at the plants that grew out of the rocks. “So what’s next?” she asked Hazelwind, and the tension uncoiled from Storm Herd.
“We’ll fly east from here,” he answered. “And we’ll keep going until we feel safe. Even if we have to cross another ocean.”
Echofrost nodded.
“We’ll rest until full dark, and then we’ll leave,” said Graystone gently.
“All right,” said Echofrost.
Hazelwind approached her, but she turned her back on him. He halted and advanced no farther. Dewberry tossed her black mane, looking disappointed.
Everyone left her alone until the glow of evening had faded, but by the time the Storm Herd steeds readied to leave, they couldn’t find her.
Echofrost was gone.
10
The Plan
ECHOFROST TROTTED THROUGH THE LOWLAND jungle of interlocking trees and dewy plants, her ears pricked for danger. She’d drifted away from her friends while they rested and grazed, and then she’d flown away without saying good-bye. Now she was down the mountain and loping through a rain forest almost as dense as the Trap in northern Anok.
Glancing over her shoulder, she halted, listening. It was dark here; the tree branches blocked the moon, which glowed like a giant eye in the sky. She heard the sharp calls of animals, monkeys probably, and leaves rustling, but no wingbeats. No one from the herd was following her.
Echofrost exhaled and walked forward. Damp plants
slid over her hide, wetting it. A pack of bats whooshed overhead, spooking her. It’d be difficult for a spit dragon, like the big one she’d seen in the valley, to sneak up on her in the jungle, but Shysong had said most jungle predators ambushed their prey. She clamped down her tail and broke into a trot. She would fly if a predator appeared, but she didn’t
want Hazelwind to spot her, so for now she traveled under the cover of the forest canopy.
The scent of smoke and burning wood drifted toward her from the Landwalker settlement. Every instinct told her to run, to turn around, but she ignored her feelings and drew ever closer to the Landwalkers . . . and to Shysong. Hazelwind and the Storm Herd steeds could leave if they wanted. She’d certainly tried to change their minds but had failed, and so she’d rescue Shysong by herself. She had a plan—well, the seed of a plan anyway.
As she journeyed farther from her herd, each strange noise sent a jolt through her heart, causing her to halt and scent the wind for trouble. It was spring here, and huge flowers bloomed, their petals splaying open even at night. Their sweet fragrance cloyed at her nostrils, and she pranced now, overwhelmed by the foreign scents. Spongy soil retracted beneath her hooves, moist air filled her throat, and life thrived in every viable space, from the
insect-laden brush to the bat-filled sky.
She was almost to the Landwalker settlement. She emerged into a clearing, and the moonlight reached her, setting her aglow.
Clickety-clack
Clack
Clickety-clack
Echofrost froze. What was that sound? She flexed her wings. The low clicks and clacks vibrated her eardrums, rhythmic and steady. Whatever it was, the creature wasn’t hunting; it was making too much noise for that, but it was coming toward her. Echofrost scooted into the shadows.
Soon the grasses parted and a line of gigantic ants stomped into the clearing. Echofrost flinched and disgust bloomed in her stomach. The lead ant circled its antennae and snapped its pincerlike jaws, and the others followed it in a perfect line, each the size of a large hare, without variation. They matched one another’s steps, pace for pace. If they were aware of her, they ignored her.
Echofrost held her breath as the ants passed her in a steady stream, like a bright river of blood. The moonlight illuminated small hairs that dusted their otherwise hard-shelled bodies. Sensory spikes edged their long legs, and their eyes were solid black. She wondered if they were
venomous like the fire ants that lived in the southlands of Anok.
Squinting down, she noticed several ants carrying pieces of an animal over their heads. She saw tufts of spotted tan fur, like the hide of a fawn. She decided they must be poisonous; otherwise she doubted they could have hunted an animal larger than themselves. Echofrost backed farther away, and her hoof clunked against a rock, making a loud vibration through the air and soil.
The ant line halted, and hundreds of glittering copper heads turned toward her. She froze. Their antennae swiveled, and their legs shifted.
Ancestors, help me, thought Echofrost. There were hundreds of them, and if they chose to swarm her, they could easily kill her. She quietly flared her wings, ready to fly away.
But the leader of the ants, who was far in the distance now, resumed walking and so did the rest of the line. Echofrost waited until the last ant was long gone before she emerged back into the clearing. Hazelwind was right; the pegasi didn’t belong on this continent. She hoped to free Shysong quickly and catch up to Storm Herd, but the plan forming in her mind depended on too many factors she couldn’t control—like where Shysong was being held,
if she was guarded, and what sort of Landwalker weapons Echofrost might have to face.
She was about to trot off when a shape leaped at her. Echofrost reared back, and it just missed her throat. Growling filled her ears. She kicked off and hovered near the treetops. A black panther snarled up at her. He jumped again, trying to snatch her feathers in his claws.
She flattened her neck and bolted. It’s time to get out of this jungle! The panther chased her from the ground with his green eyes turned up, hoping to yank her out of the sky. She flew faster, and a family of gibbons screamed at her, like they were laughing. Sweat erupted and dripped down her silver hide. She rose higher than the trees, leaving the hungry panther behind, and rocketed toward the Landwalker camp.
Soon Echofrost soared over the final edge of the jungle and coasted down toward the Kihlari den. Beyond it, on the top of the hill, was the massive, eight-sided structure that housed their riders. Echofrost hovered a moment, thinking. Once the Landwalkers spotted her, there would be no turning back.
She sniffed the air until she located Shysong’s scent. It was coming from the huge den that housed the Kihlari. As Echofrost had expected, her friend was trapped inside with the foreign pegasi. She inhaled, and her plan sharpened. She could not approach the structure that held Shysong without being seen by the Landwalkers. And she couldn’t fight hundreds of Kihlari steeds on her own. There was only one way to help Shysong—Echofrost had to let the Landwalkers capture her too. If she could infiltrate the Kihlari den, maybe she and Shysong could work together to find a way back out.
Echofrost flapped her wings, hovering between two fates—saving Shysong or abandoning her. The truth was, she wanted to flee, to leave Shysong behind, but she couldn’t. Why? She closed her eyes and the Mountain Herd yearlings appeared in her mind; she felt their hard blows, remembered them tearing out her mane, laughing at her. She faltered, almost falling out of the sky, and anguish roared through her. She’d fought so hard to live free—the thought of subjecting herself to Landwalkers was unthinkable!
But the promise she’d made was not just to Shysong. No pegasus will endure captivity again, not while I’m alive. No—she hadn’t fought so she could live free; she’d fought so that all pegasi could live free.
Echofrost rattled her feathers as fire and determination shot through her veins. She would not abandon
Shysong the way she’d been abandoned. Echofrost braced her heart, shoved aside her better judgment, and glided into view.
The land horses noticed her first and whinnied in excitement. They lived on the lush lower plain just north of the Kihlari den, and now Echofrost noticed more animals too: horned buffalo of varying sizes, small boars, and goats. They were all trapped and housed by the Landwalkers in separate pens. Armed sentries guarded them, and it was one of these males who glanced up, saw her, and shouted, “Ay! A wild Kihlara!” His voice drew more Landwalkers out of the shadows, and they ran toward Echofrost.
She hovered low in the sky, watching the chaos below. More shouts echoed throughout the rock walls of the Landwalker fortress, and the two-legged creatures spilled out and stared up at her. Her heart quaked, but she flared her wings and landed, her hooves touching down with a whisper.
The Landwalkers slowed as they approached, and one spoke softly to her—a male by his look, but a young one. He was slim and short, just a cub. His hair was raven black and cropped close to his head, unlike the Kihlari
riders, who had longer hair. His eyes were the color of fresh honey.
“Careful, Rahkki, it’s wild,” said a taller, older Landwalker who closely resembled the younger one. Echofrost recognized him from the sky battle earlier today. He rode Kol, the big chestnut stallion who’d warned her that she wouldn’t escape.
The short-haired cub whispered to the taller version of himself, and Echofrost guessed they were brothers. “She’s a braya, Brauk, a female.”
The sound of the cub’s voice set Echofrost’s feathers on edge. Would these Landwalkers hurt her? Would they pen her with Shysong, or elsewhere? Her resolve began to melt as she considered all the unknowns.
The taller brother inched closer. “Whoa, braya,” he said.
Echofrost tensed, reminding herself that she’d chosen this, but that did nothing to quell the rapid slam of her heart as the Landwalker approached with his back hunched, trying to make himself appear small and harmless. He outstretched his arm.
As she watched, he flicked his wrist. Too late she noticed the rope in his hand as he flung it over her head.
She blinked and pulled back; the rope tightened. She whinnied in shock. I can’t do this, she thought.
Six more Landwalkers tossed ropes that tangled around her neck and hooves. They each held tight, and she c
ouldn’t stop herself from struggling. The Landwalkers shouted to one another in excited voices and then gave a mighty tug, yanking her off her hooves. She hit the ground and rolled onto her side.
The Landwalkers swarmed her. They bound her wings and legs. She whinnied, and they slipped something between her teeth. She tried to close her jaw but couldn’t. They’d gagged her! She’d allowed this capture, but she had to show the Landwalkers right away that she would not be bullied. She kicked at them, but they darted out of her range, forming a circle around her. She moaned and grunted, trying to stand.
The short-haired Landwalker cub who’d first spoken to her crawled close and placed his hand on her cheek.
“Get away from her, Rahkki,” said his older look-alike.
Echofrost understood they were speaking to one another, but she couldn’t understand their long, rolling words.
“Don’t fight, braya,” said the short cub.
She glared into his golden eyes and saw herself
reflected there, bound and gagged. The cub’s hand was gentle as he stroked her face, and she recognized that he was trying to calm her, but his repulsive touch fanned embers of rage instead. Echofrost flared her nostrils and drank in his scent—memorizing it.
“Shh, braya,” he whispered.
Echofrost made a silent vow to kill him first when she and Shysong escaped.
“She likes you, Rahkki,” said the female rider with the dark-red hair. Her comment made the other Landwalkers laugh. They sounded to Echofrost like the monkeys in the trees.
Across the Dark Water Page 5
