Morningleaf and Brackentail galloped down the beach after her, jumped off the sand, and cantered into the sky.
16
THE UNITED ARMY
SIX DAYS AFTER STAR’S SPEECH ABOUT FIGHTING the Ice Warriors and the Black Army, which he’d delivered from the ground because he was too weak to stand, the River Herd Council met to enact Star’s plan. Nightwing had been spotted flying over the Wastelands in the south. He was just cruising, and he’d returned to the Blue Mountains at dusk, but it was clear to Silverlake and the others that it was time to increase the size of their army. The River Herd pegasi gathered at the stream in their camp to hear what the council had to say.
Hazelwind clapped his wings, drawing everyone’s attention to himself. “Morningleaf’s plan is working. She’s luring our enemies away from us, but eventually the armies will realize that Star isn’t in the south. Petalcloud’s and Frostfire’s scouts will intensify their search for him, and they cannot find us vulnerable. Every able-bodied River Herd steed will train as a warrior.”
There was excited nickering and whinnying, especially among the yearlings.
This was Star’s idea, and he was grateful to Hazelwind for telling it to the herd. Star tucked his wings, relaxing, when a stealthy movement caught his eye. He threw up his head, swiveling his ears. “Quiet,” he whispered.
His sudden alarm swept through the herd. The pegasi flared their wings and nostrils, and the warriors flattened their ears. Star knew to trust his eyes, and he focused on the shifting light between the dense foliage.
Then a Jungle Herd mare stepped out from between two trees, startling them all.
Hazelwind trotted forward, his feathers rattling.
The foreign mare lowered her head and pricked her ears, showing she meant no harm. With a sharp exhale, Hazelwind recognized her as one of the United Council and lowered his wings.
“Are you passing through?” Hazelwind asked.
The Jungle Herd mare, a dark bay steed with yellow and green feathers, answered him. “No. I’m Ashrain, and I’ve come to speak to your herd.” Star noticed she’d brought six stallions and six mares with her.
Hazelwind’s dark eyes glittered as he assessed the group for signs of violence. Star was struck again by how much Hazelwind resembled his sire, Thundersky.
The wiry Jungle Herd mare glanced from Hazelwind to Star. Her chest expanded, and her hooves shuffled as she searched for words. Because her wings were tucked and her ears relaxed, Star guessed she hadn’t come to fight. So what did she want?
As if reading Star’s mind, the mare answered, “I heard what you just said to your herd, and we’ve come to the same conclusion. We’re also training our nonwarriors to fight, and I think we should train them together.”
Hazelwind nodded but said nothing.
The dark bay mare cocked her ears forward. “River Herd steeds fight best in the open sky, but Jungle Herd understands tight spaces. We know how to fight in the trees.” She looked directly at Hazelwind. “We’re offering to show you our ways, and I’ve spoken to Redfire of Desert Herd and Birchcloud of Mountain Herd. They also want to share their knowledge. Desert Herd will teach us their ground-fighting techniques, and the Mountain Herd mares will teach us their aerial formations, in case we’re lured into the sky. I propose we form a United Army now, before our enemy arrives. If we train together, we’ll fight together better, and we’ll hold out longer.”
Hazelwind shifted from hoof to hoof, thinking.
Silverlake stepped forward. “Our council will discuss this, and we’ll return our answer to you this evening.” She dipped her head. “Thank you, Ashrain.”
Ashrain dipped her head in return and then cantered away with her envoy.
The River Herd pegasi erupted after Ashrain disappeared into the woods.
Train with our enemy?
They’ll learn our secrets?
But we’ll learn theirs too.
Hazelwind trumpeted a sharp call over their heads, quieting them. A long discussion followed as pegasi vented their fears. Some drifted off to graze, leaving the decision to the River Herd council, others stayed and argued, but as the evening wore on, the objections diminished. The truth was, they had a common enemy, Nightwing, and a common goal, to survive. There was no denying that the four herds in the Trap would be stronger if they trained together. The decision to form the United Army ended up being unanimous. “We have nothing to lose,” Silverlake said at the end of the vote.
Hazelwind left to inform Ashrain.
Bumblewind nudged Star. “Hazelwind acts like we’re doing Ashrain a favor, but I think it’s the other way around. She’s doing us a favor. No one fights in the trees better than Jungle Herd, and look at all these trees.”
“That’s true,” said Star, feeling grateful and hopeful. He would learn the warrior ways of River Herd, Jungle Herd, Mountain Herd, and Desert Herd. When in the history of Anok had there been an opportunity like that?
“Are you strong enough to begin training?” Bumblewind asked.
“I’m getting there,” said Star. The two friends drank from the cool stream and then trotted back to River Herd’s camp.
Star’s thoughts drifted to Morningleaf. He imagined her flying for her life, getting captured, or injured, and he felt sick. Other times he imagined her playing and nickering with her companions, Shadepebble and Brackentail, and he felt something else—but he didn’t know what it was—maybe envy that they were with her and he was not. He was sure of one thing; he missed her like he would miss his own wings if they were gone.
Star let Bumblewind take the lead as his tears formed and fell, leaving a trail of white flowers blooming behind him.
17
THE SOUTHERN NESTS
MORNINGLEAF CRUISED OVER THE CLOUD FOREST, her hooves brushing the uppermost leaves, looking for Jungle Herd’s southern nesting ground so her friends could rest after their long flight across the Sea of Rain. “In the jungle, always assume a predator is right behind you, and you’ll never be wrong,” she advised.
“How do you know so much about this territory?” Shadepebble asked.
“Before Frostfire hid me in the lava tubes beneath the volcano, we traveled through Jungle Herd’s territory a bit,” she answered. “I remember all the strange noises and creatures, and Frostfire warned me not to touch colorful plants or animals because they’re usually poisonous.”
Shadepebble pricked her ears and ducked to dodge a tangle of glossy green banyan leaves. “Was Frostfire kind to you?”
Morningleaf exhaled. “He was neither kind nor cruel,” she answered, feeling ill. In comparison to Rockwing’s treatment of Echofrost, this was true, but Frostfire had been cruel by any other standard. He’d stolen Morningleaf from her family; murdered her protectors; attacked his own sire, Iceriver; and then he’d forced Morningleaf to hide in terrifying darkness. But he had not beaten her, and for that small mercy she was grateful.
“Look!” Morningleaf whinnied. “It’s the Jungle Herd nesting ground.” She veered sharply, and her friends followed close behind her.
Morningleaf slowed and hovered over the oldest portion of the cloud forest. Here the trees were close together and heavy with long branches and leaves. She lowered her voice. “There’s a cluster of pegasi nests. Let’s get closer.” She darted into the foliage and stared at the woody brown platforms built almost a hundred wing lengths off the ground, exhaling with wonder.
“I imagined them like birds’ nests,” Shadepebble said. “But they’re flatter.” She flew under the nests, which were even in the center and gently curved at the edges, studying the construction. Morningleaf and Bumblewind dropped by her side.
Brackentail nudged the base with his muzzle. “How do they build them?”
Morningleaf shook her head. “I don’t know.” The nest was fixed to the tree with sinuous vines and roots, tightly intertwined to support the heavy, shifting weight of a pegasus. Each steed built and maintained its own nest.
“There are
hundreds of them,” Shadepebble nickered, gazing around her. “You’re sure they’ll hold us?”
Morningleaf nickered. “Sure. Why not?”
Shadepebble flew to the top of a nest and stepped into it. It swayed, and she squealed.
“It’s fine,” Morningleaf assured her. “I’m going to try this one.” She glided to a bigger nest and settled into it like a bird. Brackentail chose one between the two fillies and did the same.
Morningleaf studied her nest. It was large, probably belonging to an adult stallion. He’d left behind some munched leaves and a few coconut shells that had been picked clean by insects. The floor of the nest was lined with gold feathers, broad leaves, and soft mulch. The frame of the nest consisted of supple branches held together by woven vines and an adhesive tree sap. The nest shifted with the winds, but Morningleaf felt secure. She glanced at her friends. “Let’s try to sleep while we can.”
They each tucked their legs and curled their wings over their bodies. In seconds Morningleaf was asleep.
Hours later she woke, stretched, and noticed her belly grumbling. Brackentail heard her movements and opened his eyes, yawning. Shadepebble spoke first. “I’m starving,” she said.
“Me too; let’s go.” Morningleaf lifted smoothly out of her nest, followed by Brackentail. Shadepebble leaped out of hers, needing the momentum of falling to catch the wind.
Morningleaf cruised over a particularly large nest and noticed an odd arrangement of flowers and feathers decorating its rim. Her heart fluttered at the sight. “Look at this,” she whinnied, and dived toward the tree.
Brackentail and Shadepebble glided after her, and all three hovered, staring at the special nest. It had been reinforced and repaired each season and so it was thick with layers of old and new vines and branches. The top edge of the nest was adorned with colorful feathers and bright flower petals all the way around. Red stones, shimmering lava rocks, and pretty seashells sprinkled the nest floor.
Morningleaf’s gut tingled. “I think this is Spiderwing’s nest,” she said. “Mossberry told me that Jungle Herd maintains it and that the steeds leave gifts for him here.” She hovered closer to the interior of the nest. “He used to sleep right there,” she said with a gasp.
“I wish I had learned the legends,” said Shadepebble.
“Your elders didn’t teach you?” asked Morningleaf, baffled.
“No,” answered Shadepebble, chewing her lip. “Rockwing banned the teaching of most legends. I heard some things, whisperings in the grazing meadows, but I didn’t ask questions. I obeyed my sire’s wishes.” She clenched her jaw, remembering. “He taught me that foreign steeds are evil, that the legends are lies, and that Mountain Herd steeds are superior to all others. Except for me of course.” She glanced morosely at her stunted wing.
Morningleaf and Brackentail listened quietly, letting her speak.
Shadepebble peered at Morningleaf. “Since I met Clawfire and joined River Herd, I’ve learned that everything I thought was true is not.”
Morningleaf’s throat tightened with sadness. “Well, I can teach you about Spiderwing,” she said. “He and Nightwing were each born to Jungle Herd, but a year apart. They were friends, but also opposites. When Nightwing received his power, he fled Anok, but why he left and where he went is a mystery.” Morningleaf swiveled her ears, listening always for danger. “What we do know is that when he came back, he turned on his guardian herd and attacked all the pegasi of Anok, setting their grasslands on fire and driving our ancestors to near extinction.”
Brackentail joined in the telling of the ancient legend. “But Nightwing wouldn’t, or couldn’t, hurt Spiderwing, who was leading a small herd of his own. Eventually Nightwing vanished, and Spiderwing’s foals split to form the five herds we have today. If it wasn’t for Spiderwing, there would be no pegasi left in Anok.”
“That’s incredible,” said Shadepebble. “And this is his nest?”
Brackentail nodded. “No one uses it anymore, but Jungle Herd maintains his northern nest and his southern nest in memory of him.”
“I’m going to leave a gift,” said Morningleaf. She yanked an aqua feather free with her teeth and placed it on the rim of the nest.
“I’m going to leave one too,” said Shadepebble. She plucked a long pink feather and wove it between two branches. Brackentail rolled his eyes, but he also plucked a feather and dropped it into the nest.
Without warning, Brackentail whipped his head toward the clouds and then dived toward land. “Follow me. Hide!”
Morningleaf tucked her wings to speed her drop to the jungle floor. When they landed, Brackentail tugged her into a thicket of trees. Shadepebble followed, breathing heavily.
Brackentail sheltered the fillies’ brighter feathers with his wings. Morningleaf pressed close to him, watching his pulse flicker down his long neck. He motioned to indicate he’d seen something in the sky. Morningleaf willed herself to be as silent and still as possible. Shadepebble folded her wings and flared her nostrils, scenting the wind.
Morningleaf peeked through Brackentail’s feathers, trying to see the sky. Soon she saw what Brackentail had seen: an army of pegasi flying in tight formation. Her chest heaved when she caught sight of their leader. He had one blue eye and one brown—it was Frostfire!
Fear bubbled in her gut, and several aqua feathers shed off and floated to the ground. Brackentail closed his wing around her back to steady her. “I won’t let him take you again,” he whispered into her flattened ears. His words helped quell the rapid slam of her heart, but in truth, Brackentail couldn’t stop Frostfire if the white stallion spotted her, and she wasn’t ready to show herself—not without a plan.
Frostfire and his warriors veered west, toward the Valley of Tears, an open grassy plain where Jungle Herd steeds liked to graze. Morningleaf watched them descend toward land, and then they disappeared from her view. She and her friends waited a long time, holding perfectly still. When they were sure all the pegasi had passed over, they emerged from the brush. Morningleaf shook the leaves out of her mane.
“That was close,” Shadepebble said.
Brackentail folded his wings. “He’s got his entire army with him.”
Morningleaf pricked her ears, and Shadepebble read the determined expression on her face. “No!” Shadepebble neighed. “We’re not going to follow them, are we?”
“We are,” Morningleaf said. “I need them to spot me in this territory, to confuse them. I just—seeing Frostfire caught me off guard, but it’s our mission that I’m spotted.”
Brackentail stamped his hoof. “By scouts maybe, but the entire Black Army? It’s too dangerous this time.”
“Keeping Star safe is more important,” argued Morningleaf. “If Frostfire spots me here, he’ll assume Star is hiding close by—maybe even in the lava tubes. He knows the black maze under the volcano is a perfect hiding place, and he knows that I know it too. It will take him a moon to search all those tunnels, which will give Star more time to wake up, to heal and get strong. I have to let Frostfire see me.”
“But how will you avoid getting captured?” Shadepebble asked. “You can’t ride a jet stream again. Star’s not around to catch you this time.”
Morningleaf exhaled, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. She hated thinking about Star’s absence. She hated not knowing if he was alive or dead.
“I’m sorry,” Shadepebble said, biting her lip. “But it’s the truth. How will you escape that army?”
Morningleaf shuddered. “I don’t know.”
18
TRAINING
AFTER THE RIVER HERD COUNCIL MET AND MADE the unanimous decision to train with the other herds, Hazelwind divided up the pegasi, placing them into groups that would rotate between the stallions and mares who’d volunteered to teach different skills. Star and Bumblewind were sent first to hoof sharpening.
“Come with us,” Bumblewind said to Dewberry.
The fierce little mare pranced in the dim light between the
pine trees. She flicked her tail at Bumblewind, her eyes sparkling. “I think I want to be a sky herder,” she nickered, “and sky herders don’t sharpen their hooves. I’m going with Sunray’s group; she’s that tall Desert Herd mare over there. She’s teaching herding skills, and she’s ridden jet streams and flown to the heights where the blue sky turns black.”
Star glanced at the Desert Herd mare waiting nearby. Sunray was a golden buckskin with light-purple feathers. Her deep chest curved into a tiny waist, and her long neck was thin and corded with muscle. Her wide-set eyes bulged a bit, and her broad forehead wedged into a small, curved muzzle.
“You’re staring at her,” Dewberry said with a snort.
Star looked quickly away. “I can’t get used to them; they look so different from us.”
“Even their feathers aren’t like ours,” Dewberry nickered. “They’re moist and waxy. And their hooves don’t melt when they fly up there, where the sun’s rays burn the rest of us.”
Star lowered his eyelashes and glanced again at Sunray. Her build was extraordinary: designed for extreme heights, extreme heat, and extreme speed. “I guess it makes sense why they guard their lineage.”
Dewberry nodded. “Mixed foals can’t keep up.”
Sunray whinnied for her trainees, and Dewberry kicked off, buzzing over the bushes toward the golden buckskin mare. “Have fun grinding your hooves,” she nickered over her shoulder.
Bumblewind watched Dewberry fly away, his eyes trailing her long after she disappeared.
Star nudged his friend’s shoulder. “Come on; let’s go.”
They trotted to Clawfire, who was teaching hoof sharpening. Hundreds of steeds had gathered around him from the four herds, mostly yearlings and some older mares from Mountain Herd who were also eager for the sharp weapons of warriors.
Clawfire placed his hoof on a rock, letting the edge of it hang over the side. “Take a close look at my hoof,” he said. “This is your desired result, but don’t start grinding until I’ve shown you how.”
The Guardian Herd: Landfall Page 8
