The Guardian Herd: Landfall

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

  “I know,” Hazelwind said, wrapping his wing over her back. “I’m going to miss him too.” The two stared at the setting sun, thinking of their sire—the magnificent crimson-feathered over-stallion who’d given up his power to follow Star. Silverlake trod across the sand and joined her adult colt and her filly.

  “Oh, Mama,” cried Morningleaf, and she buried her muzzle deep into her mother’s soft mane.

  Silverlake wrapped her wings around her. “Shh,” she whispered, and Morningleaf’s body trembled, seeming too small to hold her pain.

  Hazelwind stepped closer, and Silverlake included him in her embrace. “He was so proud of you both,” she said to them. “So proud.”

  Hazelwind blinked rapidly, and silent tears rolled down his cheeks. The three of them stood on the beach, leaning against one another, until the red sun vanished into the sea.

  Morningleaf woke at dawn and stretched, feeling hungry but enjoying the warm sunshine on her chestnut coat. Maybe she’d take Star to the lake to swim and graze on reeds. Her hooves dug into the grass, sinking deep. Wait, this isn’t grass; it’s sand. Morningleaf jolted upright. She’d been dreaming of Dawn Meadow, where she’d been born. In the dream she was playing with Star, tugging on his tail and chasing him, wishing she were as fast as her long-legged friend. She rubbed her eyes with her wings, confused. She was not home in Dawn Meadow, and there was Star, resting on a beach, and he was a yearling, not a foal.

  No.

  She reeled.

  Remembering.

  The shocks of the day before slammed her: Nightwing killing her father, Nightwing fighting Star, Star hitting the ground, and Hollyblaze’s weanling army. Her head throbbed—was yesterday the dream?

  She walked slowly to Star, lifting each hoof with precision, terrified to reach him, to find out the truth.

  “There’s no change in him,” said Bumblewind, who’d guarded Star’s body throughout the night.

  Morningleaf rushed the rest of the way to Star’s side. She felt his chest, but it was cold and still. She placed her muzzle against his, feeling for breath, but none came. And yet he did not look dead to her.

  “It’s like he’s sleeping,” said Bumblewind. “But I can’t wake him up.” His sudden tears splashed onto Star’s hide, and Bumblewind quickly wiped them off. He’d arranged Star in a natural position and preened all his feathers. His eyes traced Star’s battered body, hunting for signs of life, but Bumblewind himself was haggard, his skin thin from dehydration.

  “Have you eaten?” Morningleaf asked him.

  “I don’t need food.”

  She didn’t want to eat either. Her hunger had quieted as soon as she remembered where she was and what had happened. She peered down the beach to where Silverlake and Hazelwind had found a bed of kelp. They were dragging it back to share with the group. Clawfire, Echofrost, and Shadepebble floated in the waves, cleaning their bodies. It appeared Hazelwind had bathed too; his cuts were clean and beginning to close.

  “I’ll watch Star,” Morningleaf said, nudging Bumblewind away. “Clean up and eat so we can get back to Sweetroot quickly.”

  “I’m fine,” said Bumblewind.

  “I said I’d watch him.” Morningleaf’s sharp tone snapped his focus, and he took his eyes off Star long enough to look at her. “The food will give you the strength to carry him,” she added.

  Bumblewind nodded and trotted toward Silverlake and the kelp. Morningleaf noticed how muscular he’d become since they’d all turned one year old. As a foal, he’d been chunky, always hungry. Well, now she knew why—his body had been building the foundation of a very large stallion.

  After everyone had eaten, Morningleaf took her turn, forcing down bites of the fibrous green kelp. “We’re exposed out here on the beach,” she said. “Why don’t we shelter in Star’s cave until dark?”

  Her friends agreed and they moved Star’s body into the cave, where Morningleaf curled by his side. “Look!” she said to her friends. “Seagull feathers.” The small gray and white feathers adorned a circle of dried seaweed. Inside the circle were shiny rocks and empty oyster shells. “It’s Crabwing’s old nest,” she said, her voice rising with excitement.

  “Who’s Crabwing?” asked Shadepebble.

  Echofrost nickered. “He was the over-stallion of birds.”

  As Echofrost retold Star’s funny stories about the seagull, Morningleaf touched his delicate nest with her wingtip, imagining Star shucking oysters for Crabwing and letting the little bird eat bugs out of his mane. She inhaled deeply, marveling at the evidence of Star’s gentleness. But the contrast of Star’s love for Crabwing to his present condition, injured so badly that he’d retreated into death or something else—an infinite sleep—ripped at her heart.

  Morningleaf rested her head over Star’s neck and whispered into his ear. “We need you, Star. Please come back.”

  5

  CALL OF THE OVER-STALLION

  THE GROUP LIFTED OFF AT DUSK AND FLEW north, following the shoreline and gliding like bats, fast and silent except for the whooshing of wings. The heavy clouds shielded the moon and stars, making the night darker than most. They passed out of Crabwing’s Bay, the brackish inlet Star had named after his bird friend, and veered east. They journeyed in the Vein, the neutral zone that existed so pegasi could travel through Anok without crossing into one another’s territories. It would protect them from foreign pegasi, but not from Nightwing. None of them believed the Destroyer would respect the sanctuary of the Vein.

  “The sun is rising,” said Silverlake. They had flown all night, stopping only twice to give Star’s carriers rest and water. “We’ll land there for the day.” Silverlake banked and dropped toward the base of the Blue Mountains. Morningleaf and the others followed her, landing near a gully in a forest of redwood trees. The gully was thick with plants and creeping vines. “We can dig into these and cover ourselves,” said Silverlake.

  Hazelwind and Clawfire cleared a space for Star, laid him down, and then covered him with the pliant shrubs. A shallow creek fed by snowmelt trickled nearby. Each pegasus drank and then burrowed into the plants just as the morning sun ripped across the sky.

  Morningleaf meant to stay awake, but in seconds she was fast asleep. When she woke, it was midday. The sun blazed overhead, and the clouds had vanished. She was glad for the shade and the cool soil under her hooves. She checked on Star, who was curled beside her, but he was unchanged from the day before. She nibbled on the nearest leaves. They were bitter, but edible.

  A figure flew high overhead, a pegasus, and she startled. The Blue Mountains guarded the northwestern edge of Mountain Herd’s territory. She squinted. The sun shone behind the pegasus, making him look black. “No one move,” she whispered to the others.

  The pegasus in the sky trumpeted the call of an over-stallion. It thundered across the airy plain like the roar of a lion. But this stallion’s voice was different from most. His call vibrated at multiple frequencies, slipping into the air currents and whipping across the planet, carrying farther than was natural. And she recognized the voice from the other day. “It’s Nightwing,” she told her friends.

  “But he’s calling a herd,” said Shadepebble. “He doesn’t have a herd.”

  Morningleaf remembered Rockwing, the deceased over-stallion of Mountain Herd who’d wanted to make a pact with Star, and then with Nightwing, to rule Anok. “He doesn’t have a herd . . . yet,” said Morningleaf, listening. “He’s calling for followers.”

  “But who would follow Nightwing?” whispered Echofrost, who was tucked next to her twin brother, Bumblewind.

  “We’ll see,” said Morningleaf, feeling angry. With Nightwing present in Anok, every over-stallion stood to lose his power, and the pegasi who had chosen not to hide in the Trap would be restless, fearful. She wouldn’t be surprised if they followed Nightwing to protect themselves from death, or to try and share in his victory. Obedience to authority was built into their bones like the urge to fly—and it helped keep peace within the
herds, to have only one pegasus in charge of each—but it worked against them when the leader was ruthless, like Rockwing, or evil, like Nightwing.

  She watched the Destroyer circle overhead, braying, and then he moved on, but his distant calls continued to disturb her. Eventually, he was quiet.

  Shadepebble gave Star’s body a sorrowful glance. “How are we going to stop Nightwing now?”

  Morningleaf lifted her chin and spoke so her mother and brother and friends could hear her. “We aren’t going to stop him. We can’t. All we can do is hide Star and get him to Sweetroot. If it takes days, moons, or years—it doesn’t matter—we will protect Star until he wakes up . . . or flies to the golden meadow. We are his guardians.”

  Bumblewind edged closer to her. “But you saw what happened in the fight. Nightwing is stronger.”

  “Maybe, but Star is better,” said Morningleaf, her tone firm. “And he has help. You saw the Ancestors; I don’t think they would have shown themselves to all of us, and protected Star, if they didn’t believe in him. Star can defeat Nightwing. I know it, I just don’t know how, but I’m not giving up. There’s a way. There has to be a way.”

  Clawfire agreed. “Star lost a battle, not a war.”

  “Exactly,” said Morningleaf.

  “At dark we’ll continue on,” said Silverlake. “Let’s try to sleep.”

  But Echofrost stood and shook herself. “I agree with Morningleaf, but I can’t just wait. We’re going to need information about Nightwing.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Hazelwind, rising.

  “I’m going to follow him to see who answers his call.”

  Morningleaf gasped. “You can’t. He’ll kill you.”

  “Not if he doesn’t see me. Anyway, he’s calling for followers. If I’m captured, I’ll join him and spy on him from the inside.” She shook the dirt out of her feathers and flared her wings. “But don’t worry; I won’t be captured. Not again.”

  Morningleaf understood her fear. Echofrost had been captured by a Mountain Herd patrol when she was a weanling. A colt named Brackentail had lured Star and his friends into Mountain Herd’s territory and attempted to kill Star in a canyon run, a game played in flight school where instructors tricked their trainees into galloping off cliffs at full speed. Regular pegasi unfurled their wings and flew to safety, but since Star couldn’t fly, the drop would have killed him. Morningleaf had stopped the race, saving Star, but Mountain Herd steeds had spotted her and the others in the canyons, and had captured Echofrost and Brackentail. Echofrost was tortured and then eventually released, but she’d never forgiven Brackentail for it.

  Echofrost’s foalhood dream had been to become a spy, and she would get her wish today, but to begin by spying on Nightwing the Destroyer—that was ambitious. “I am worried,” Morningleaf said to her friend.

  Bumblewind rose and trotted to his twin. “I’m going with you.”

  “No, stay with Star. I’ll go,” said Hazelwind.

  Echofrost glanced from her brother to her dearest friend, Hazelwind. “Spies are safest when alone,” she said. “Besides, you’re both needed to carry him.” She nodded toward Star’s heavy, lifeless body buried in the leaves.

  “No, I can help,” said Silverlake.

  “It’s not just Nightwing out there,” Morningleaf added, thinking of predators.

  Hazelwind trotted close to Echofrost and dropped his muzzle next to hers. “Let me go with you,” he whispered. “I’ll watch your back, and—and I need something to do.”

  Echofrost blew into his nostrils in a long exhale. “All right, but when we get close to Nightwing, you have to let me do my spying on my own. I’ll find out what I can and get back quickly. I promise.”

  He nodded and turned to his dam, Silverlake. “When we’re finished, we’ll meet you back at the Trap.”

  Silverlake rushed to her son and embraced him in her wings. The twins rubbed muzzles and then Hazelwind and Echofrost trotted into the redwoods, kicked off, and coasted through the trees.

  When darkness fell, Silverlake, Bumblewind, and Clawfire lifted Star’s body; and the group flew all night toward the Trap, and their medicine mare, Sweetroot.

  6

  THE TRAP

  THEY ARRIVED THE FOLLOWING MORNING AFTER sunrise, landing at the base of the Hoofbeat Mountains. The trees that formed the Trap lifted out of the melting snow like an army, so tall and tight that once inside the forest, a pegasus couldn’t fly up and out of it. This is why they called it the Trap, because it confined them to the ground. They would have to flee from predators, fires, and enemies by hoof. But the Trap was also secure because the pegasi couldn’t be seen from the sky.

  Star had chosen the Trap as the place to hide from Nightwing. It was after Star received his power that he’d become aware of the Destroyer. Their minds had linked through the starfire they’d each inherited, and Nightwing, who had been hibernating in the Territory of the Landwalkers, woke up when he also became aware of Star. In a series of visions, Star realized that Nightwing was returning to Anok to kill him. The River Herd council had agreed with Star’s choice to hide in the Trap, and they’d sent messengers to all the herds, inviting them inside. About half the pegasi in Anok accepted; the rest stayed in their territories, unwilling to abandon their homelands.

  Silverlake had sectioned the massive forest into separate encampments to keep the peace between the foreign herds while they waited for Nightwing to arrive. The steeds who’d accepted the invitation were inside, waiting for news about the Destroyer.

  Now Morningleaf stared at the silent trees with dread. When the pegasi saw Star’s broken body dragged in like a carcass, would they abandon him? Would they lose hope?

  “Follow me to River Herd’s camp,” said Silverlake. She released Star’s tail and let Clawfire and Bumblewind carry him the rest of the way. Star’s hooves dragged across the lichen, carving long grooves into it. Morningleaf and Shadepebble followed.

  The forest was dark, and a layer of wispy fog drifted above the animal paths. Narrow stripes of sunlight pierced the leaf cover at the tops of the trees and struggled through the mist, spotlighting the soft soil and the blooming wildflowers. Morningleaf thought the Trap would be cold, but it wasn’t. The ceiling of branches overhead locked in the hot breath of the forest’s inhabitants, and the rays of light caused moss and plants to grow. Morningleaf tread softly, feeling frightened by the darkness and the enclosed space. If trouble came, she could not fly away.

  “See the animal paths?” said Silverlake, pointing. “They lead to each herd’s camp, and to streams and ponds. Use them and you won’t get lost.”

  Morningleaf hadn’t flown over the Trap, but her sire had, and he’d told her it was the largest forest in western Anok. If she lost her bearings, she could gallop for weeks without ever finding the end of it. He’d said it was important to always have in mind the borders, so she could exit quickly. Morningleaf’s throat tightened as she remembered him. Thundersky had fought so hard to protect her since the day she was born, and he’d been so strong and powerful. She’d never imagined losing him.

  “The herds have formed a United Council made up of pegasi from each herd,” Silverlake explained as they moved slowly toward River Herd’s camp. “I represent River Herd, and I report back to our council. The other steeds on the United Council are Ashrain of Jungle Herd, Redfire of Desert Herd, and Birchcloud of Mountain Herd.”

  “My mother is here?” cried Shadepebble, referring to Birchcloud. Morningleaf knew Shadepebble hadn’t heard news of her dam since she’d been stolen by the Snow Herd captain, Clawfire, and taken to the north.

  “Yes. When she learned that your sire, Rockwing, planned to claim Star’s birthland, no matter what the cost, she left him. Many of her mares followed.”

  Shadepebble’s hooves lightened as she walked, and her eyes shone with excitement. Morningleaf glanced at her own mother, feeling grateful they were still together.

  “Look, there’s Dewberry,” nickered Bum
blewind.

  The pinto battle mare heard Bumblewind’s voice and cantered toward him, whinnying to the rest of River Herd that Star had returned. But the joy in her eyes evaporated when she drew closer and saw Star’s body hanging between Clawfire and Bumblewind. “Oh no,” she said, covering her muzzle with her wing.

  “We need Sweetroot,” said Silverlake.

  “I’ll get her.” Dewberry galloped back the way she had come.

  Silverlake led them into River Herd’s camp of trampled soil and sunken depressions in the moss where pegasi slept at night. Morningleaf glimpsed the flutter of Sweetroot’s dark-pink feathers as she trotted toward Star.

  “Lay him there,” she ordered, taking charge. “Dewberry, bring me the vandal roots I stored in that aspen grove yesterday. Remember?”

  Dewberry nodded and trotted to get the roots.

  “Do you already know what’s wrong with him?” asked Silverlake, looking surprised.

  “The roots are for you,” said Sweetroot. “You’re exhausted. All of you are.”

  Silverlake’s legs trembled, and her back had curved into a sway. She didn’t argue with the medicine mare.

  Sweetroot knelt beside Star, pressing him gently with her wings and assessing his wounds. She paused near the burned flesh on his chest, and her lips tightened. “I’ve never seen a wound like this. What happened?”

  Morningleaf, Silverlake, and the others collapsed, lying in the moss as Dewberry returned with the calming roots. Silverlake told the story, telling Sweetroot everything that had happened since Nightwing had landed in Anok. All the while, Sweetroot worked, packing Star’s wounds with yarrow leaves, straightening his broken legs, wrapping them with flexible branches, and massaging his cold chest.

  All around them, River Herd steeds gathered, trotting out of the mist as the news spread that Star was back. They stood in quiet circles, listening. When Silverlake finished the story, she asked Sweetroot the question they were all too scared to ask. “Is he alive?” Silence dropped on the pegasi like a deathblow, and their ears twisted forward as they waited.