The ex-captain folded his wings and lifted his head, meeting Star’s gaze. “I mean to say that I understand Hazelwind’s decision, but it changes nothing. Larksong won’t leave without Starfrost.”
“I’m sorry,” said Star.
Frostfire snorted bitterly. “So am I.”
29
STAMPEDE
SEVEN DAYS LATER, THE PLAN WAS UNDER WAY and going well. One hundred and forty steeds had been removed from the valley without Nightwing or Petalcloud noticing. Silverlake chose the steeds, and Echofrost’s growing network of spies informed them and then helped them escape at night, while drinking at the pond. The Ice Warrior named Graystone helped her communicate between the groups.
All winter, the captured pegasi had created the habit of drinking in large numbers, so the practice was not suspicious to Nightwing. A few chosen pegasi from each group slipped under the water and swam to the tunnel. The rest returned to their section as though nothing unusual had happened.
The pegasi who weren’t escaping didn’t resent it. Each knew what was at stake, and why they couldn’t all leave the valley, and many didn’t want to leave. A trip through the tunnel was a one-way journey to another land, across a dangerous ocean. Finding two hundred steeds who wanted to leave had been the challenge. The remaining pegasi watched Star build the tribute, hope glittering in their eyes.
On the morning of the eighth day, Frostfire leaped in Star’s path. He was upset, twitching. “Larksong changed her mind. She wants out tonight.”
“Without Starfrost?”
“She’s trusting me to save our son,” said Frostfire, arching his neck.
“But how—”
“Let me worry about that,” interrupted Frostfire.
“Okay, I’ll ask Echofrost to put her in tonight’s group.”
“Don’t ask her, tell her. The time has come for you to fulfill your promise to me. I’ve been patient, and I want Larksong rescued before she changes her mind again.”
Frostfire’s expression was tight, his eyes desperate. Patches of feathers were missing from his wings, and Star saw that Frostfire had reached the end of his endurance with waiting. “I understand. I’ll tell Echofrost.”
Frostfire dipped his head, then stared into the distance, seeming to consider more words. Then he glanced at the dark clouds overhead and said simply, “A storm is coming.”
“I know. I feel it,” said Star. Just then a blast of wind blew his mane straight off his neck.
Frostfire flared his wings and trotted away.
Star decided to visit Echofrost right away while she was grazing on the open plain, because the valley was no longer safe. The spring mud had pushed the segregated pegasi groups closer together as they attempted to share the driest land, and it was possible his voice would be overheard if he visited her there. On the grazing lands, the pegasi were spread far enough apart that he could speak without detection.
Turning himself invisible, he flew toward Wind Herd. Below him, Petalcloud napped under her shady sycamore tree, and Nightwing stood beside her, head to tail, so they could swipe the flies, mosquitoes, and gnats off each other’s faces. Her filly, who she’d named Riversun, and Frostfire’s colt nursed side by side while Nightwing watched over them.
The trampled valley was vacant during the day, and Star coasted over it on the way to the grasslands. The winds raced unencumbered here, and they hit him hard, knocking him sideways. He rolled, wing over wing, before regaining his bearings. The gusts howled in his ears like dire wolves, and the rushing air blew the grazing steeds’ tails toward their heads. They walked with their backs to it, and Star knew how much they hated the wind. The clouds closed over the sun, leaving the interior dark but warm and alive with static. The sky spit rain and threatened lightning.
He landed, out of breath from fighting the current. The pegasi grazed in their separate groups. Stormtail and the Ice Warriors patrolled them, but after several moons without an escape attempt, they looked bored.
Star quickly spotted Echofrost grazing with the adult mares and darted across the grass, flying low. He landed next to her and nickered a soft greeting.
“Hello, Star,” she whispered, keeping her head down so no one would notice her seeming to talk to herself.
“Hello.” He gazed at his friend, wondering if he’d see her again after she left with the two hundred pegasi to cross the ocean. She was tall, lean, and solemn, but not unhappy. Bumblewind’s death had cracked her, but Echofrost was too strong to crumble. And after helping organize the rescue mission to save the pegasi from extinction, she was days away from freedom. But there was a reason he was here, and he didn’t have much time. “Larksong’s decided to leave; Frostfire just told me. He wants you to get her out tonight.”
“Who is he to demand anything?” asked Echofrost with a snort.
A distant guard glanced in Echofrost’s direction. “Shh,” Star warned her. “Relax your wings.”
Echofrost took a deep breath and pretended to preen her feathers. “I already have tonight’s group chosen; I’ll take her tomorrow.”
Star shushed her again, beginning to regret coming to the Flatlands. “If you don’t do it tonight, Frostfire won’t trust me. Just send her, please. I promised I’d help her.”
Echofrost chewed her lip, thinking. “But why the sudden change? I see how she pines for Starfrost; I can’t believe she’d leave without her colt. Did you ask him about that?”
“No,” Star admitted. “He said he’d worry about Starfrost himself.”
“You see, I don’t like this, Star. It sounds like he’s making his own plans.”
“Maybe he is, but can you blame him? Nightwing took his son.”
“Right, that’s the problem. Frostfire is desperate. He can’t be thinking straight.”
Star nodded. “Well, getting Larksong to safety will ease his mind, don’t you agree?”
“I don’t know, maybe. Let me use the tunnel to speak to Hazelwind and the others about this, but no promises. I won’t make this decision on my own.”
“Thank you.”
Echofrost scowled. “No promises,” she repeated.
Star returned to Frostfire and gave him the news. “Echofrost will try to get her out tonight, but it’s up to Hazelwind and the others.”
Frostfire narrowed his eyes. “Don’t they obey you, Star?”
“Obey me? No. We work together.”
Frostfire leaned closer, his muscles quivering, his eyes glinting. “So all along you’ve had no authority to promise me anything?”
Star balked. “No, that’s not it. You know my friends and I work as a team. We want to save all the pegasi, including Larksong; nothing has changed. Hazelwind is committed to saving her.”
“All the pegasi?” snorted Frostfire, shaking his head and backing away from Star as if seeing him for the first time. “You’re no warrior, no defender. You’re a dreamer.” He spat the word like he tasted something nasty. Then he gnashed his teeth, lifted off, and flew away.
“Where are you going?” called Star, panic rising in his chest. He was about to follow Frostfire when he froze, feeling quick vibrations under his hooves.
He waited, swiveling his ears, then the ground shook harder, and the soft soil conducted odd vibrations that were somehow familiar to Star. He closed his eyes, tracing his memories until he found it. On his first migration, a grass fire had sent a herd of land horses galloping out of the forest and into the herd of migrating Sun Herd walkers. The fire had killed Mossberry and almost reached Star, and it was a terrible memory, but he knew the cause of the strange vibrations. “It’s a stampede,” he whispered to himself.
Star peered at the dark clouds that threatened rain—there was no smoke in the sky, no drifting flakes of ash. It wasn’t a fire causing this panicked run.
Then the near horizon blackened, and a wave of frightened creatures blasted into view, seemingly out of nowhere. Panic shot through the Wind Herd steeds on the plain. Some pegasi rocketed toward the clouds
, and others froze. Nightwing didn’t allow them to fly without permission, and this had been deeply ingrained in them.
But they had to do something, because these weren’t stampeding horses.
They were buffalo.
Giant, panicked buffalo.
30
ALARM
STAR DARTED BACK TO THE OPEN PLAIN, SHED his invisibility so they could see him, and neighed to Wind Herd. “Get away! Fly!” Thousands of buffalo plowed toward him and the pegasi, their eyes bright with fear.
Some jetted off the grass, some stood frozen.
Star whirled and galloped through Wind Herd, ordering frightened steeds to take flight. The younger pegasi spiraled across the grassland, tossed by the violent winds. Stronger pegasi tore after them, trying to catch them.
The buffalo pounded the soil, their eyes narrow, their sides heaving. They cut long trails through the grass, mowing it down with their hooves and leaving hundreds of injured pegasi sprawled behind them.
Sharp screams whistled through the currents, and Star’s mane whipped his eyes. Hoofbeats rumbled like thunder, confusing his ears. He glanced upward. The clouds swirled in opposite directions and began to spin. How was that possible? Star heard heavy breathing. He turned just as a thick-maned bull buffalo roared past, slamming Star’s shoulder and sending him spinning. Star landed on his side, rolled onto his hooves, and leaped into the sky, his wings clamoring for the heights.
The buffalo herd sped across the plain faster than Star imagined such large beasts could run, and he still wasn’t sure what they were afraid of.
Star dived toward the pegasi, leveled off, and flew over their backs, neighing to the steeds who were still on the ground to get up. “Fly,” he whinnied. The pegasi obeyed. Behind the buffalo lurked the dire wolf pack, sensing a feast.
Star trumpeted the alarm of an over-stallion, calling the pegasi to him. The old habit of instant obedience sent steeds flying his way.
Then a black shadow dropped from the clashing clouds.
Nightwing.
Star’s pulse thundered in his ears, deafening him, and the cries of the injured pegasi ripped at his heart. He drew on his power and turned himself invisible before Nightwing spotted him.
“Who called?” boomed the ancient stallion.
Below Star, the wolves realized the wounded pegasi were easier prey than the fleeing buffalo. They spread out and crept toward the fallen steeds.
Ahead of Star, the Desert Herd stallion named Redfire brayed the call to battle and dived on the wolves. Thousands more pegasi dropped onto the pack, kicking and biting them. The wolves snarled, frustrated but thwarted.
Star exhaled. The herd could handle the wolves.
Nightwing flew above the melee, his nostrils filtering the wind. Star hovered near him, invisible, holding his breath and glad the ferocious currents masked his wingbeats.
Petalcloud darted out of the throng and joined Nightwing. Star dropped to a lower altitude, but he could hear them speaking. “What is it?” Petalcloud asked, studying Nightwing’s expression. Over the winter, Nightwing had fully recovered from his long hibernation. His muscles had rounded, and his once brittle coat was as glossy as northern ice.
“Where are our foals?” whinnied Nightwing.
“Riversun and Starfrost are with Stormtail,” she said. “What’s wrong; who’s calling the herd?” She scanned the sky.
“Star is here,” said Nightwing. “He sounded the alarm.”
“What? Where?” Petalcloud craned her neck. “I don’t see him.”
Nightwing pinned his ears but said nothing, his forehead tight.
Star watched the last of the buffalo pass by just as thunder cracked and the rain fell, drenching the pegasi as they battled the wolves. But the black clouds tumbling overhead cycled in ways Star had never seen, and the wind shoved him like it was angry.
“We should take our herd into the cottonwoods,” Petalcloud said to her mate. “The lightning will strike them if they stay out here, and the young ones can’t fly in this.”
Not the woods, thought Star. That’s where his friends were.
Nightwing turned his glowing silver eyes on her. “No. A storm like this will rid us of the weakest steeds.”
Wicked delight flickered across Petalcloud’s face. “Good thinking,” she said.
Star felt sick listening to them, but then the sky stole back his attention. The winds crossed their currents, and Star braced as he was pushed higher. The air thickened, dripping moisture, and the clouds collided, forming a monstrous, swirling funnel. The wolves whined and bolted, vanishing like shadows.
Star soared toward his friends, realizing it was the storm that had caused the buffalo to stampede, not a distant fire or the pack of wolves.
An elderly pegasus was snatched by the wind and thrown hundreds of winglengths across the sky. “Land!” Redfire bellowed to all of them.
The flying pegasi dived toward land. Star opened his mouth, ready to trumpet another alarm, but then the cloud mass dropped toward him, sucking the winds into a faster spiral. Star flung himself backward and plummeted toward the grass. The circling cone followed him, roaring like a lion.
Star banked and flew away from it. Nightwing sprang his shield around himself and Petalcloud, winging her to safety.
Star swooped over the pegasi, directing them to the area of lowest ground. “Head to the valley!” he whinnied.
Nightwing retracted his shield and flew toward Star’s voice. “I hear you, Star,” he brayed, his eyes glowing brighter. “Show yourself.”
Fear shot through Star’s veins. He didn’t answer.
The funnel cloud touched down and ripped at the land, tearing up small trees and brush and sucking them into its blustering center. The sky is alive, thought Star, his heart thudding.
Nightwing shot silver fire in the direction he’d heard Star’s voice. “Come out,” he warned, scanning the elevations between the ground and the clouds. Star considered escaping through the storm, knowing that if he flew high enough he would encounter a safe blue sky. Lightning crackled, followed by thunder, and the wind blew harder, faster, but Star couldn’t leave Wind Herd. He turned and flew after the pegasi who were heading toward the valley.
The twisting cloud retracted briefly, then dropped down in a new place, on the tails of the herd. Sweetroot and Silverlake galloped with the elder mares, afraid to fly in the gusting winds. The cone cloud followed like it was hunting. They weren’t going to outrun it.
Star hurtled toward them. Silverlake slipped in the mud, giving the cloud the split second it needed to gain on her. Star gasped as the ravenous funnel snatched her up and swallowed her.
Star dived after Silverlake, suddenly remembering the word for this spiraling wind: tornado.
31
TWISTER
THE TORNADO SUCKED STAR OFF HIS WINGS AND knocked the breath out of him as it whipped him sideways. He curled into himself to protect his long neck and wing bones. Small trees and shrubs slapped his hide, leaving long trails of blood. Dust filled his throat and choked him. Roaring wind assaulted his ears, deafening him. The cone of air dragged him up through it, higher and higher, and ahead he saw Silverlake’s white tail.
Star sprang his shield and was immediately encased in peaceful silence. He rolled through the tornado in his orb, watching the chaos, but he could breathe and open his wings. He scanned the debris for Silverlake.
She was above him. Her eyes were closed, and she was curled tight like a newborn, her wings covering her head. He flew toward her, but she spiraled up and away. He flattened his neck and flapped harder, finally catching her. Her lips were moving, and Star guessed she was calling the Ancestors to help her. Star pushed his shield out, projecting it around them both.
The second his golden orb sealed around them, Silverlake crashed to the bottom of it, lying on her side with her chest heaving. The power of the twisting cloud multiplied as they rose, spinning them around and around. Star lost control of their direction. Silver
lake opened her eyes wide. The world around them was a blur.
“Am I dead?” she whinnied, staring through him.
Star realized he was still invisible. He shed that power and reappeared. “If you’re dead then so am I,” he said.
“Oh, Star!” Silverlake tried to stand but couldn’t.
They stared at the funnel cloud, each of them pinned to Star’s spinning orb, their wings plastered against the side of it, their lips rippling. It was almost impossible for a pegasus to feel dizzy, but soon Star was light-headed, and his gut had lost its bearing on whether he was upside down or right-side up. The sphere whipped around faster and faster. A buffalo soared by, bellowing and kicking the sky.
“Did you see that?” Silverlake gasped.
Star also didn’t believe his eyes.
A large boulder slammed the orb, sending them spinning in the opposite direction. Star forced one wing off the wall, but gravity slammed it right back.
Then the twisting cloud spit them out, and they went blasting across the sky. Star couldn’t see, didn’t know what to do.
They dropped below the cloud layer. Now Star could see which way was up and which was down, but his gut was still drifting, his brain still spinning.
Wobbling a bit, he flapped his wings, and Silverlake helped him. They synchronized and settled into a fast glide, parallel to the land, slowing their descent. The sky was calmer here, the clouds whiter, and the rain softer. When they were traveling at a safe speed, Star retracted the shield. He and Silverlake coasted onto the grass and landed, exhausted.
Silverlake staggered to keep her balance, her eyes bulging. “We’re alive,” she said, like she didn’t believe it.
Star panted, trying to regain his breath. He saw lakes and a bog, and a beaver dam in a thin river. “Where are we?”
The storm had thrown them miles away.
Silverlake leaned into him and took a long breath, and Star’s fondness for her filled his heart. They hadn’t always agreed with each other in the past, but they had the same goal: to unite the pegasi of Anok. Silverlake glanced at the clouds, which were clearing. “We must get back,” she said.
The Guardian Herd Page 17
