The Guardian Herd: Landfall

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

  “All right, I’ll wait, but where is Nightwing now?”

  “He’s living in the Blue Mountains,” Hazelwind answered. “We’ve hidden you here, and we have spies watching him. As long as you don’t use your starfire, we believe he can’t find you or direct his armies to you.”

  “His armies?”

  Hazelwind nodded. “He’s offered to make a pact with the first steed who kills your guardians and delivers your . . . your head to him.”

  “My head?” Star blinked, pricking his ears. “Just my head?”

  Hazelwind nodded.

  Star’s gut roiled as he imagined warriors ransacking Anok to take his head. “No one agreed to this, did they?”

  Hazelwind sighed, looking glum. “Frostfire and Petalcloud have formed opposing armies, and each is looking for you,” he explained. “It’s why Morningleaf left—she’s drawing them away from the Trap.”

  “She’s bait!” Star shuddered. He had to help her. He pressed his wings into the soil, trying to stand.

  “She’s not alone, Star,” said Silverlake. “She has Shadepebble and Brackentail.”

  “They’re yearlings,” Star said, sputtering as his body collapsed. He needed food. He needed strength. And Brackentail? Why him of all colts?

  “She refused the warriors I offered her,” said Silverlake. “I guess she thought we needed them more than she did.”

  Star sighed and laid his head on the trampled soil, smelling bugs and rotting mulch. He suspected there was more to know about Nightwing and Morningleaf and the armies that hunted him, but he felt dizzy and sick. Sweetroot was right—he needed more rest.

  Bumblewind and Dewberry returned and dropped fresh lichen by his muzzle, and Star forced himself to eat. It would take time to heal, and time to figure out how to defeat Nightwing.

  11

  SEA OF RAIN

  MORNINGLEAF LED HER FRIENDS ALMOST TO THE end of the Tail River, where they spent the night tucked beneath the shade of a mesquite tree. “Tomorrow we’ll cross the Sea of Rain,” she said, “and then we’ll be in Jungle Herd’s territory.”

  “How do you know these territories so well?” Shadepebble asked. “Have you traveled them before?”

  Morningleaf snorted. “I’ve been to Jungle Herd’s territory, when Frostfire kidnapped me. But most of what I know I learned from listening to the stories of the elders and—”

  “And she asks a lot of questions,” Brackentail interrupted.

  “I do not!”

  “Do too.” Brackentail faced Shadepebble. “When we were foals, one of our elder mares, Mossberry, could never finish a sentence without Morningleaf shoving her muzzle into the mare’s flank to ask questions.” Brackentail’s eyes twinkled in the red sunset.

  “But they were important questions,” Morningleaf said, pricking her ears.

  Brackentail huffed. “Not to us. We just wanted Mossberry to get to the battle scenes, but Morningleaf wanted to know how everyone was related and what the landscape looked like. Boring.”

  Morningleaf smacked Brackentail playfully with her wing. “Good thing I asked all those questions. Without me you’d be lost.”

  Brackentail lowered his eyelids. “I am lost,” he whispered.

  Morningleaf stared at him and then looked away. He often said things like that to her, cryptic comments that seemed to hold a deeper meaning, but she never asked him to explain. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he meant.

  The three yearlings rested in the sweltering shade in awkward silence. Nearby, the river rushed past, flowing toward the ocean.

  Shadepebble changed the subject. “So what’s Jungle Herd’s territory like? Not so hot, I hope.”

  Morningleaf exhaled. “No, but it’s more dangerous.” She flicked her ears, remembering her short time there after Frostfire had kidnapped her. “You can’t swim in the lakes or rivers, drink the water, smell the flowers, or eat the plants. You have to stay on the animal paths. And it’s best not to walk under any trees, but sometimes that’s impossible.”

  “How will we survive there, then?”

  Morningleaf softened. “The fruit is safe to eat, and we can drink rainwater off the leaves.”

  Brackentail squinted into the clear blue desert sky. “Rain? What rain?”

  “It rains every afternoon in the jungle,” Morningleaf explained. “Finding safe water to drink won’t be a problem. At night we can sleep in the trees. Most of Jungle Herd is hiding in the Trap, and the rest have followed Nightwing to the Blue Mountains or joined one of the armies—so their nests will be empty. Once I’ve been spotted by Frostfire’s scouts, we can fly back to Star.”

  “Making sure you’re not captured will be the dangerous part,” Brackentail added.

  Morningleaf ruffled her feathers. “We’ll see.”

  The next morning the three yearlings landed on Turtle Beach, where the Tail River drained into the sea. They rolled on the hot white sand, digging their wings into the cleansing grains. They stood and shook themselves off, then faced the shore. The water was green and clear to the bottom. Shadepebble clapped her wings. “Look, turtles!”

  Morningleaf watched the large creatures glide gracefully underwater, then she narrowed her eyes and peered west, toward Jungle Herd’s land. She couldn’t see the distant shore, only miles and miles of ocean. She swallowed, feeling nervous. The thing about flying over open water was that she and her friends couldn’t eat or drink, and the only way to rest was to float on the surface. But after hearing Star’s tale of the orca that ate Snakewing, the over-stallion who’d tried to kill Star when he was hiding on the coast, Morningleaf was afraid of the water.

  Still, it was the fastest path to Jungle Herd’s shoreline, and she wouldn’t worry her friends. “Ready?” she asked them, forcing a cheerful expression.

  “Ready,” Brackentail answered. He reared and spread his wings, fanning his orange feathers before the flight. Morningleaf lowered her lashes and watched him, noticing he’d grown again in the last moon. His weedy muscles were thicker, his coat glossier, his wings wider. Morningleaf wondered if she was changing too. She didn’t feel any different. She turned to Shadepebble. “Have you attended flight school yet?”

  The spotted filly nodded. “I had two lessons before . . . you know.”

  Morningleaf nodded. She knew the rest of the story—Snow Herd raiders led by Clawfire had captured Shadepebble during flight school, hoping to add her to their herd, which had been decimated by the Blue Tongue plague. When Snow Herd realized Clawfire had stolen the filly of Mountain Herd’s over-stallion, they’d exiled them, banishing them to wander the north alone. When an ice tiger attacked Shadepebble, she’d bolted and fallen through the ice of a northern pond. That’s when Star had seen her and had saved her.

  Brackentail nudged Shadepebble. “Don’t feel bad; two lessons puts you ahead of us. We became yearlings right after Star’s birthday, and there’s been no time for flight school since then. River Herd hasn’t even appointed an instructor yet.”

  “True,” Morningleaf said, “but Star taught me how to fly over the ocean when we were living by the coast, before the Blue Tongue plague erupted and we had to move to the Ice Lands. Stay close to me, and I’ll talk you both through it.”

  The three of them galloped down the beach where the sand was packed and firm, then leaped into the sky, their wings unfurling like flower petals in the sun. Morningleaf took a deep breath, filtering the warm air and the salty scents through her nostrils.

  From the heights, the Sea of Rain was neither blue nor green. It was both. Morningleaf watched the massive turtles and the faster stingrays coasting offshore, flying underwater. Shadepebble squealed when a pod of dolphins zipped past, their backs rolling across the surface. Reefs appeared as black shadows far below, but if Morningleaf focused, she saw bright fish gathered around the coral, nipping at plant life and wagging their sleek bodies.

  They glided for hours, enjoying the cool ocean breezes on their faces. Then, without warning, the three
pegasi flew directly into a pocket of swirling crosswinds, and the waves below grew choppy. “Steady!” cried Morningleaf, drawing her wings closer to her body. Shadepebble was thrown sideways, and another current pushed Brackentail higher. Her friends flapped their wings madly, trying to regain control. Morningleaf struggled to fly straight. “Slow down,” she neighed to them.

  Brackentail, whose first instinct had been to outfly the turbulence, listened to her and slowed to a glide. But Shadepebble was tossed off course and had entered into a fierce battle with the winds, which she was losing. Her body rocketed away from them, and there was nothing Morningleaf or Brackentail could do to help her. “Don’t fight the current,” Morningleaf whinnied to Shadepebble. “It’s pushing you out. Just let it carry you and then catch up to us.”

  Shadepebble relaxed, and the wind hurtled her toward the north. Morningleaf and Brackentail stayed close to each other, riding out the harsh swirls of air. Shadepebble shrank in the distance and then disappeared.

  “I don’t like this,” Brackentail said.

  “The wind will soon release her. It’s best we stay on course and let her return to us.”

  The pair kept a slow pace, waiting for Shadepebble. The water was deep out here, darkening to blue, and it was devoid of reefs. Morningleaf kept one eye focused below and one trained on the horizon. After a while she grew concerned. “Shadepebble should have caught up to us by now.”

  “Let’s go find her,” Brackentail said.

  The two veered north, scanning the sky for Shadepebble.

  12

  LOOSE FEATHER

  “EAT THE TREE MOSS, STAR; IT’S GOOD,” SAID Bumblewind.

  Star stepped toward his friend, his weak legs shaking and his wings spread open for stabilization. It had been three days since he’d awakened and walking was a struggle, but Star wanted to relieve his herd from the burden of gathering ferns, grasses, and pine nuts for him to eat.

  Bumblewind ripped at the moss and chewed while waiting for Star. “You’ve got it,” he encouraged.

  Star reached the tree and halted with his legs wide. “Newborns walk better,” he complained, letting his wings fall to his sides. They were as weak as his legs, and so flying was out of the question.

  “The more you eat, the faster you’ll regain your strength.”

  Bumblewind’s words echoed Sweetroot’s, and Star nodded his understanding. Nightwing’s attack had decimated Star from the inside out, even crushing his starfire into a lesser version of what it was, but Star improved each day. He was healing on his own, as Sweetroot had predicted.

  Star lipped at the tree moss and then shred it off the bark, grinding it between his teeth and swallowing. Bumblewind had lied; it wasn’t good at all. For the past three days Star’s friends had been bringing him the tastiest food they could find: sweet grasses, moist bark, and shucked nuts—they’d spoiled him.

  “Do you remember the boundaries of River Herd’s camp?” Bumblewind asked.

  “Yes.” He knew Silverlake had sectioned the Trap into camps for the members of each herd. Star had explored their camp before he left the north and traveled to Sun Herd’s lands, where Nightwing had met him, and almost killed him.

  “Good. We have a truce with the other camps, and our warriors are all training together, but we each stick to our own area unless invited.”

  “They won’t turn me in to Nightwing?” Star asked.

  “No. We’ve united our forces against Nightwing. Win or lose, we won’t submit to him. We’re outcasts now, rebels. Nightwing has control of the territories, but he doesn’t have what he wants most—which is you.”

  Star’s gut trilled. His guardians weren’t just protecting him; they were protecting their freedom. A cruel over-stallion could be challenged and overthrown, but Nightwing was more powerful than any over-stallion, and he was immortal. If he gained control of all pegasi, his invincible authority would crush their spirits. Their foals would be born without hope. It would be the end of the pegasi as Star knew them, as proud and independent steeds.

  The two friends grazed on the moss and the young spruce needles in silence. Then Star asked the question that had plagued him for the last three days. “If Morningleaf’s mission is so dangerous, why didn’t anyone stop her?”

  “Stop Morningleaf?” Bumblewind snorted. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Right,” Star huffed, unsurprised. His left hind leg buckled, and he began to tip sideways. Bumblewind rushed forward and pressed his shoulder into Star’s, propping him upright. Star exhaled, ushering out the pain that shot through his injured legs. “I guess I thought she’d stay with me. It’s strange that she’s gone.”

  Bumblewind lowered his voice. “What she’s doing is crazy, using herself as bait to distract our enemies away from the Trap, but it’s also very brave.”

  The soft thud of hooves interrupted Bumblewind as Clawfire burst into view. He galloped between the trees with his wings tucked, and thin rays of sunshine highlighted his blue-gray feathers. He skidded across the fallen pine needles and stopped in front of them, panting. “Follow me quickly,” he whispered.

  His urgency left no time for questions, and Star felt hot energy rush through his weak muscles, lending him some strength.

  “Help me with him,” Bumblewind cried, nodding at Star. Clawfire took one side and Bumblewind the other, and Star wrapped his wings around their backs. They squeezed through the trees, keeping Star from falling over.

  “What’s happening?” Star asked.

  “Intruders,” the white stallion nickered quietly. Clawfire led them expertly through the dark maze of conifers, avoiding fallen twigs and pinecones that might shatter under their hooves. Star’s broken bones were freshly knit, and searing pain ripped through his body as he trotted. He suppressed his groans.

  “Hold still,” Clawfire said when they arrived. This section of the Trap was the darkest. An upward slope in the land here had led to increased sun exposure on the highest branches, and that had created an extra-thick canopy of foliage. After Star’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw thousands of eyes blinking at him. All the rebels had gathered here to hide.

  Clawfire tucked Star and Bumblewind into the shadows and then found his own tree to hide beneath. Star lost his balance and staggered into a foreign stallion, bumping against his flank. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Shh,” another pegasus rasped.

  Star’s heart thudded. He was still unsure what was happening, except that he knew it must be bad. Star stood as still as he could on his quaking legs.

  Behind Star, a newborn bleated softly. Its dam quickly covered the colt’s eyes with her wings, calming him. Next to Star, Bumblewind’s breathing quickened. He stretched out his wing, eyes wide with fear, and pointed straight ahead.

  Star squinted through the darkness, and then he saw them—six of Petalcloud’s Ice Warriors. His pulse quickened. The patrol of pale-colored steeds crept forward in a line, making signals to one another with their wings. They were exceptionally graceful considering how huge and big hooved they were. The enemy scouts sniffed the wind and inspected the churned-up soil, gathering information.

  Star tightened his gut and held his breath. Beside him, Bumblewind’s eyes narrowed. The six Ice Warrior scouts were upwind of the hiding pegasi but so close that Star could see the leader’s pulse thumping down his neck. Star unconsciously rattled his feathers, and the Ice Warriors froze, listening.

  Star cringed. I’ve done it now, he thought. He was going to get his herd killed.

  Around him it seemed that every steed held its breath. Star’s right leg began to wobble from the strain of keeping still. He gritted his teeth and willed his knee joint to hold strong.

  The scouts prowled forward, their ears swiveling for noises and their eyes searching for their enemy.

  Sweat erupted on Star’s brow, tickling his face as the droplets rolled down toward his muzzle. It took all his willpower not to shake them off.

  Bumblewind suddenly stiffened,
and Star saw why. A single brown-tipped gold feather shed off his wing, caught an air current, and drifted toward the Ice Warrior patrol.

  The steeds nearest Bumblewind tensed, all eyes glued to the errant feather.

  One white stallion glanced their way but stared right through them because he was standing in a patch of light and they were tucked in darkness.

  Star bit his lip, and his sweat dripped faster from his forelock and down the large white star on his forehead. He tilted his head sideways, watching as Bumblewind’s brown-tipped feather swirled toward the stallion who was still looking their way. Star’s gut flew with the feather, drifting and twisting with it, making him dizzy.

  The stallion walked into a sharp ray of sunshine that blinded his eyes, but that telltale feather was also about to enter the light. If any of the scouts spied it, they would investigate, and then they would find Star. He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.

  Behind him, Star could feel the tension building as all eyes remained locked on Bumblewind’s floating feather. The energy was palpable, like static before a storm. Someone was going to spook, and soon; Star could feel it. If that happened, it would give them all away.

  Star stared at the twirling feather, willing it to go unnoticed. Then a small blast of wind shot through the trees and ruffled the white stallion’s mane. He looked behind him just as the feather reached the sunlight and twirled into view. But the stallion was looking away. The wind snatched the feather and lifted it up to where it became entangled in the tight branches overhead.

  Star dared a small, short breath. The white stallion had not seen the feather. He waved to his friends with his wing and resumed his search, leading the small patrol away from Star. The hiding steeds exhaled with relief, but then another steed trotted into view, and Star recognized her instantly.