Thundersky spoke to the pegasi. “We’ll fly in the Vein, traveling east until we pass Snow Herd’s territory, then we’ll veer north and head into the Ice Lands. The journey will take five days if we keep our rest stops short and also fly at night.”
River Herd understood the reasoning, and none were willing to spread a plague that could wipe out every pegasus in Anok, but they weren’t happy about it. The pregnant mares were especially concerned. “What will we eat there?” asked one.
Star knew that Thundersky had flown all over Anok, surviving by himself in the Vein. So had Iceriver and others; it was part of their training for the army. These steeds had warned the council that food in the north was scarce, but the Ice Lands were uninhabited, and there they would not spread the Blue Tongue plague. Thundersky answered the young mother as best he could without alarming her. “We’re a small herd, less than a thousand; we’ll be able to survive.”
Survive? Star shuddered at the word. He wanted more for his herd than mere survival. But he would not be joining them right away in the Ice Lands. He had a visit to make first. He stood on the outskirts of the trampled meadow with Bumblewind, Dewberry, and Morningleaf. “We’re ready to depart,” he announced to River Herd.
The evening before, Star had gained permission from the council to visit Snow Herd, but not without some arguing. “I can heal them,” he’d said. “I’ll take a small group with me, so Snow Herd understands we aren’t there to fight.”
“I’ll go with him,” volunteered Morningleaf.
“Me too,” said Bumblewind. Star had asked his friends to attend the meeting in the hope they would join him, and they did. Only Echofrost had refused.
“And I’ll take Dewberry,” said Star. The little mare was scrappy and fearless, but small enough not to appear threatening.
Silverlake flicked her ears, looking concerned. “Twistwing won’t welcome you, Star.”
Twistwing, who used to be Twistfire from Sun Herd, had openly called for Star’s death from the day Star was born. He’d joined Rockwing in attacking Star the night he received his power, and now Twistwing was over-stallion of Snow Herd. Star tossed his long forelock out of his eyes. “No, he won’t welcome me, but he won’t turn me away. You heard the messenger; half his herd is dead.”
Hazelwind dragged his sharpened hoof through the dirt, scratching a deep line in the soil. He pinned his ears at Star but looked at everyone gathered. “Why are we helping our enemy?” he asked, spitting out the words. “If Snow Herd is truly half dead, let’s leave them that way. Maybe the rest will die too.”
Star cocked his head. He’d never considered not helping Snow Herd. He didn’t know what to say.
Silverlake answered. “It’s worth helping them if it brings peace between River Herd and Snow Herd,” she said. “This is an opportunity, Hazelwind.”
The stallion snorted. “It’s an opportunity wasted. We could end Snow Herd now, while they’re weak.”
Star braced at Hazelwind’s harsh words. The young stallion had once been one of his greatest supporters. Hazelwind believed Star was the healer, but ever since he’d fought in Sun Herd’s final battle against Mountain Herd, Hazelwind had changed.
Iceriver spoke, his eyes soft and sad. “It would mean a lot to me, Star, if you healed Snow Herd. They are good steeds, most of them.” Iceriver’s words floated over all of them, stilling their rustling feathers as they listened.
While Star had some doubts about his grandsire, the ex-over-stallion of Snow Herd had proved helpful and trustworthy. And once Thundersky accepted him, everyone in River Herd had as well. The two stallions were often seen flying together and talking. Star imagined Iceriver was Thundersky’s first real friend, and the only other stallion in River Herd who understood the unique trials Thundersky had faced as an over-stallion.
But Iceriver avoided Star, his grandson. Probably because he felt shame for not helping Star’s mother when she was driven out of Snow Herd years ago. Star didn’t know, and he didn’t press the old stallion for answers. Iceriver had let his filly go without a fight, and nothing could change that, but Star was grateful that Lightfeather had landed in Sun Herd and that he’d been born in Dawn Meadow.
“Maybe Silverlake is right,” said Thundersky, breaking the silence. “Maybe Star can form a truce with Twistwing and Snow Herd.”
The council had voted, and it was decided. Star and his friends would travel to Snow Herd’s territory.
Now Star watched as Silverlake led the migration to the Ice Lands. She cantered into the clouds, her wide wings muscling the wind, with the River Herd steeds following her. They broke into small V formations consisting of twelve to fifteen steeds each. Brackentail coasted behind Thundersky and was closely watched by several burly stallions. He flew well, and all signs of injury to his broken wing were gone.
As the herd soared out of sight, Star turned to his friends. “Ready?”
Bumblewind stretched his wings. “Shouldn’t we have a plan, in case things don’t go our way?”
“That’s not a bad idea,” said Dewberry.
“Really, you think so?” Bumblewind puffed up his feathers. Dewberry snorted, ignoring him.
Star and Morningleaf exchanged amused glances.
Dewberry stared pointedly at Star. “Anyway, we have him. We don’t need to flee from any herd.” Her dark eyes sparkled with excitement.
Morningleaf huffed. “That’s not a good plan.”
“Why not?” asked Bumblewind. “He’s got the starfire. You would use it to protect us. Right, Star?”
“Of course,” said Star, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to.
“All right then,” said Bumblewind. “We have our plan. Now, let’s fly.” He kicked off and Star followed, passing Bumblewind and taking the headwind like he always did. The others coasted on his wide current.
Star flattened his neck and soared over Anok, his heart racing with the thrill of flight. The oversize wings that had plagued his foalhood now carried him effortlessly through the clouds. When he flew, the starfire heated his belly and coursed through his veins, infusing his muscles with energy. He scanned the terrain below, enjoying the heights and the pleasure of being the largest creature in the sky. He whinnied to his friends, his voice whipping behind him, only a whisper on the rippling air currents. “Let’s see how high we can go!”
Star lifted his nose and pumped his wings, driving his body into the cloud layer. He peeked back to see his friends following, their eyes glittering with joy. It was much more difficult to fly straight up than it was to cruise parallel to the land, but Star’s wings were powerful. He surged higher, his black hide damp with cloud sweat, until he passed out of the mist to where the sun was bright.
He narrowed his eyes against the sharp rays and the chill so penetrating he could feel it in his hooves. He looked down and saw that his friends had flown as high as they could. They circled, watching him and waiting. Morningleaf was shivering. Star looked up and couldn’t resist the urge to try flying higher.
He angled his nose toward the sun and flapped his massive wings. Through the patchy clouds he could see the curve of the horizon, and he marveled at the planet, which was not flat as it appeared on land, but round. Far below his dangling hooves, flocks of birds flew like tiny gnats, rivers were blue lines, and rugged mountain ranges rose like sentinels out of the flat, grassy plains, guarding them from the wind. He hovered, gulping the thin, cold air—and he knew he could fly higher still.
He looked to where the blue sky turned black, to the space where the Hundred Year Star had glowed so brightly only a moon ago, and he yearned to fly there. He pinned his ears against the prickling radiation of the sun, and his lungs burned as though he were running out of air. Star craned his neck, squinting at the edge of the atmosphere, and wondered what it would be like to glide in outer space, where there were no currents and the surroundings were blacker than he. Of course no pegasus could fly among the stars; he knew that, but it didn’t stop him from wishing he could.
Star peeked below and saw his friends as mere dots—one brown, one red, and one splotched. His eyes watered, and the edges of his hooves began to melt from the burning power of the sun. This was high enough. Star relaxed his wings and let his body stall in midair. When he began to fall, he flexed his wings, controlling the current, and he rocketed toward his friends, squinting as the crosswinds battered his face. He slowed when he neared them and glided in a large circle.
“You were so high!” whinnied Bumblewind, his teeth chattering.
“A little too high,” muttered Morningleaf.
Dewberry’s eyes were brilliant. “The legends about the Desert Herd steeds must be true. It’s said they can fly as high as you just did, maybe higher.”
“I wish Echofrost had seen it,” said Bumblewind as the four of them dropped back toward the cloud layer. “She won’t believe me when I tell her.”
“What’s it like up there?” asked Dewberry.
“Hard to breathe,” Star answered. “And freezing cold, but hot too.” He shook his forelock out of his eyes. “I can’t explain it.” Star didn’t want to encourage them to try it. His friends had flown as high as they safely could.
The group coasted in silence until dusk. The terrain had changed drastically as they flew north. The trees were shorter, the animals larger, and the land more desolate. Patches of snow appeared, and the tall field grasses gave way to stubby weeds. Morningleaf spotted a creek, and they landed to graze, drink, and sleep for the night.
The next morning the four pegasi flew north, continuing their path toward Snow Herd. Within an hour they approached a landscape buried in snow. The wind was cold and unforgiving, reaching deep into their bones. Star was glad their coats had thickened while they were living in the Vein.
“Look there,” said Star, nodding toward a frozen oval lake far below them. “Silverlake told me that when we reach the land of frozen lakes, we’re in Snow Herd’s territory.”
Star led his group out of the clouds and straight into a pack of Snow Herd warriors. He gasped, shocked, and his heart thrummed in a fast, steady beat.
“We’re definitely in the right place,” huffed Dewberry. She coiled her front legs and rattled her feathers at the foreign stallions. Morningleaf and Bumblewind copied her.
“It is the black foal,” whinnied a light-gray steed as though his group had been watching them for a while. “Seize them!” he neighed to the others.
The warriors surged forward, casting apprehensive glances at Star, and snatched his friends by the wings, dragging them across the sky. A cream-colored stallion trumpeted an alarm to his herd that carried across the snow.
Dewberry kicked her captor in the knees and twisted, trying to yank her wing free of his jaws. “I need backup!” she whinnied.
But Star was already on his way, charging toward her, his jaws clenched. He slammed into the white stallion’s chest, and the hit forced him to release Dewberry. The stallion wheezed, gasping for air. Star hadn’t planned to fight the Snow Herd stallions, but his gut fluttered with his first small victory.
Suddenly, another warrior came at them, clubbing Star over the head with his hoof, and Star tumbled into a cloud, scattering the mist, before regaining his wings. Dewberry was free and battling a gray stallion, but Morningleaf dangled from a set of powerful jaws, squealing in anger and pain.
Star’s fast breaths filled his ears, and his heart beat wildly against his rib cage. He dived into the flank of the stallion holding Morningleaf and bit into his meaty flesh. They tussled across the sky, a tangle of feathers and legs, until the buckskin stallion finally released Morningleaf, and she darted out of harm’s way.
Star and the buckskin faced off, circling each other just below the first layer of clouds. With Morningleaf safe, Star focused on his opponent. Like all Snow Herd stallions, the buckskin was big and heavy, with large, round muscles. His eyes blazed, and if he felt any fear of the black foal, his fury had squashed it.
He lunged at Star, teeth bared. Star dodged him, but the stallion snatched a mouthful of Star’s mane and yanked hard, ripping some hair out by the roots. Star braced his wings to keep from tumbling sideways. He kicked at the stallion and missed. The buckskin extended his wings, reared up, and pounded Star’s back with his front hooves.
Reeling, Star chomped back his agony and whirled to face his opponent. They struck each other, chest to chest, but Star’s unsharpened hooves couldn’t slice through the warrior’s skin. Star dived in to bite his throat. The buckskin evaded him and kicked Star, his hooves as sharp as ice, opening wounds in Star’s skin.
“Star!” whinnied Morningleaf, panting, but she couldn’t help him. She and Dewberry were battling for the release of Bumblewind. The first stallion Dewberry attacked had fled. Star guessed he would return with reinforcements.
“I’m fine,” Star neighed. The buckskin squealed in anger and flew forward, ramming Star in the chest again. Star’s wings lost their purchase on the wind, and he fell toward land, upside down. The buckskin leaped onto Star’s belly and drove him toward the snow, whinnying in triumph. With the stallion’s weight on him, Star couldn’t flip over.
“Use your starfire!” neighed Bumblewind, who was free now.
The starfire gurgled like lava, ready to explode. But Star didn’t want to use it, not this way. He gritted his teeth, threw back his head, and forced his body into a backward nosedive. He plummeted toward a pine forest, out of control but now free of the stallion.
“No!” whinnied Morningleaf, charging after him.
Star’s wings whipped in the breeze, and the delicate end-bones threatened to break. Below him, the dense forest of snow-splashed pine trees circled as he fell in a headfirst spiral. He had seconds to pull out of the dive before he crashed. Many moons of swimming in Crabwing’s Bay had strengthened his huge flying muscles. Star drew his wings tight to his body, angled the folded ends into the wind, and then slowly extended the tips, slicing them into the current and gently pushing down, capturing the breeze.
His body evened out just before impact, and he rocketed through the trees, his hooves skimming the white powder and his body tilting sometimes sideways to avoid slamming into large branches. He tried to control his manic heartbeat as he raced through the forest, which was too narrow for his large body. Trees flashed by faster than he could think, and it was pure instinct that kept him from colliding with them.
Star saw a space open up in the branches and beyond it, blue sky. He lifted his head and rocketed out of the forest, knocking the snow off the pine needles. He angled his wings to slow himself and then soared gracefully to an open clearing where he landed, breathing hard and feeling dizzy. Morningleaf, Bumblewind, and Dewberry landed next to him. “That was incredible,” squealed Dewberry.
Sudden fury roiled in Star’s gut, and he turned on her. “Why did you attack them?”
She pinned her ears and backed away. “What do you mean?”
“They were going to take us to Twistwing,” said Star, shaking his head. “All we had to do was let them.”
Dewberry bristled. “Nobody takes me, Star. I go under my own power or not at all.” She rattled her emerald feathers. “We’re clearly not a threat; there was no need for the stallions to use force.”
The stallions they spoke of landed next to them. They were wary and also breathing hard. “You can’t get away,” said the gray one.
“Actually we can,” said Star, lashing his tail, his eyes glowing gold. “But we don’t want to.” He glared at Dewberry. “We flew here on purpose, to help you.”
“Help us?” whinnied the buckskin.
Star noticed the stallions he’d attacked were bleeding but were not mortally injured. He was covered in bites and scratches. Morningleaf limped on three legs, and Bumblewind had lost a fair amount of feathers. Dewberry appeared unharmed, but Star was certain his small band of friends would have been slaughtered if the fight had continued much longer. Star looked back at the Snow Herd stallions. “Your messenger told us
about the Blue Tongue plague. I can heal your sick steeds.” Star swallowed his irritation with Dewberry. “In spite of what just happened, we haven’t come to fight.”
The gray stallion cocked his head, thinking. Then he said, “Twistwing will decide that. Follow me.” He kicked off and flew low over the sparkling snow, with Star and his friends following.
7
SNOW HERD
STAR AND HIS FRIENDS SWOOPED OVER A SET OF low foothills and dropped into a wide valley, the heart of Snow Herd’s territory. They cruised just over the terrain, tailing Twistwing’s warriors. Two frozen lakes, sparse trees, gray boulders, and patches of turned-up moss decorated the otherwise bland landscape of trampled snow and gray skies. The members of Snow Herd were gathered into four separate groups, probably based on their level of illness, and the herd was small, consisting of maybe eighteen hundred pegasi.
“Where are the dead?” Dewberry asked the warriors.
Morningleaf jerked her head toward the little battle mare, looking appalled, but the buckskin stallion kept flying and answered her question without emotion. “We fly them to the ocean and drop them where the water is deep.”
Dewberry nodded, and Star remembered hearing that her mother was the medicine mare who’d trained Sweetroot. Her question wasn’t mean-spirited; it was important, because dead bodies continued to spread disease. Star exhaled, feeling sad for Snow Herd’s lost pegasi but also hopeful. He could save the rest of them.
The Snow Herd stallions landed them near the healthiest of the groups. Star recognized Twistwing’s olive-green feathers as the over-stallion galloped toward him, followed by a pretty gray mare.
“That’s Petalcloud,” whispered Morningleaf with a gasp. The mare was a legend, the first foal born alive to Rockwing and his mate, Birchcloud. But then she’d abandoned them to become lead mare of Snow Herd. When Rockwing demanded she trade her firstborn foal to him as payment for her freedom, she had been happy to agree. She’d sent her colt, Frostfire, away on the day he was weaned. The rest of her foals were born dead, like her sire’s.
The Guardian Herd: Stormbound Page 4
