The Guardian Herd: Landfall

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

  Each pegasus took a turn examining Clawfire’s hoof. When it was Star’s turn, he lowered his head and peered at the hoof’s edge from all angles. He noticed that the very front of the hoof slanted into a thin, crisp edge. The sidewall was thick and smooth to support Clawfire’s weight. “Can I touch the edge?” Star asked.

  Clawfire nodded, and Star felt the rim of Clawfire’s sharpened nail with his wingtips. The severe edge sliced right through Star’s end feathers. He jerked his wing away, and the watching pegasi nickered in amazement. “That’s sharp,” Star said, whistling.

  “Yes. That’s the point,” replied Clawfire with humor in his eyes.

  Star stepped back and showed his cut feathers to the younger steeds, and then all eyes returned to Clawfire. The pegasi were silent, ready to learn.

  “Sorry I’m late,” said a female voice.

  Star and everyone else turned to see that Echofrost had joined them and was standing in the low mist that rolled across the forest floor. Clawfire nodded, inviting her closer. She trotted forward and touched his deadly hoof with her wingtips, also losing a few feathers in the process. “Thank you,” she said to the captain. She backed away and stood next to her twin brother.

  “You’re going to be a warrior?” Bumblewind asked.

  “A spy,” she corrected, “but I think it’s wise to be ready for anything.” Her eyes flicked from her brother to Star and then back to her brother.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Bumblewind said.

  “Me too,” said Star, but he wasn’t so sure. Echofrost had seemed to enjoy watching Nightwing incinerate Rockwing not so long ago. It had brought her out of the depression she’d lived in since her release from captivity in Mountain Herd, but Star didn’t think Echofrost had let go of her anger. He feared that instead she’d found an unhealthy outlet for it in violence.

  Clawfire continued his training. “The secret to sharpening a hoof is finding and using the right stone. Come close.”

  The trainees scrunched around him. Clawfire pointed out a flat, smooth rock. “This one is good for polishing,” he said, “but not for grinding.” He walked through the dense pines with his eyes down. Star and the others followed him, also scanning the terrain and looking for rocks.

  “What about this one?” Echofrost asked.

  “That rock is too small,” Clawfire replied. “Soon you’ll understand why.” Clawfire proceeded until he found a stone he liked. “Here, this one will do.”

  Star and the others stood in a semicircle around a piece of granite that was rough but mostly flat, and large—almost reaching to Star’s knee. The morning fog had lifted, and bits of sunlight pierced the canopy overhead.

  “It’s helpful to let your hooves grow long before you sharpen them,” Clawfire said. “The more hoof you have to work with, the better. And since the land here is soft, our hooves aren’t too worn down, so most of us won’t have any problems.”

  Clawfire kicked at the soft layer of pine needles and moss that covered the soil, and then looked up. “If you’re a Desert Herd steed, come see me. Your hooves are different from ours. If you try to sharpen them, you might split them. Your hooves are better for kicking than slicing anyway.” Clawfire nickered softly and said, “If you’ve ever been kicked by a Desert Herd steed, then you know what I mean.”

  Star and Bumblewind traded a glance. “I don’t want to get kicked by a Desert Herd steed,” Bumblewind said.

  “Well, Frostfire is commanding an army of them,” Star whispered. “So we’d better learn to defend ourselves. And our friends.”

  Star sighed. He never thought he’d want to fight, but here he was, in warrior training; and even stranger, he was enjoying it. Talk of Frostfire’s Black Army sent his stallion blood coursing hot and ready. He couldn’t use his starfire to fight because it would alert Nightwing to his hiding place, but he could defend his guardian herd with his hooves and teeth.

  And for the first time, Star was beginning to understand the pegasi of Anok. The fierceness that had terrified him as a foal now flowed through his own veins, almost as powerful as the starfire itself, and he’d never felt more natural than he did at this very moment, standing with Bumblewind and training for battle.

  “Jungle Herd steeds may also have a hard time with this,” Clawfire continued. “You have the softest hooves of all the herds because your territory is always moist. You may not be able to carve a sharp edge, but Ashrain will have a special training for you to add the lethal embellishments of your warriors.”

  Star pricked his ears. That sounded interesting.

  Clawfire explained. “I’ve been in several battles against Jungle Herd steeds. They press sharp rocks into the soft edges of their hooves, making them extra deadly.”

  The trainees blinked at him, curious.

  “But most of our hooves aren’t pliable enough for that,” Clawfire continued. “So let’s begin with the sharpening.”

  Star leaned in and studied Clawfire’s technique. Like most yearlings, Star had tried to sharpen his hooves in the past but had only succeeded in shortening them. Clawfire began by grinding the sides of his hooves until they were perfectly even. He left the toe longer. He lifted his hoof so the others could each examine phase one of hoof sharpening. Star glanced down at his own hooves and noticed they were overgrown and uneven.

  Bumblewind followed Star’s gaze and snorted. “No wonder you walk funny.”

  Star nosed him in the chest with his muzzle, almost pushing him over. Bumblewind whinnied and shoved him back. Nickering, the two friends head-butted each other like goats, and each tried to make the other fall over. Star was stronger, and he pushed Bumblewind accidentally into Echofrost, who squealed.

  Clawfire whinnied. “Pay attention.”

  Star, Bumblewind, and Echofrost lifted their heads and pretended they’d been doing just that all along. “I’ll get you later,” whispered Bumblewind.

  “If I don’t get you first,” said Star, his heart buzzing with contentment. He knew he shouldn’t be this happy. Two armies were hunting him down, Morningleaf was on a dangerous mission, and the herds of Anok were in danger of being enslaved by the Destroyer. But like the rays of sunshine that pierced the canopy of leaves overhead, joy had pierced the darkness around Star’s heart. For once all eyes were not on him. For once he was equal to his friends. He was as new to warrior training as they, and just as excited to learn.

  Clawfire finished his lesson by showing the steeds how to grind down the long toe at the front of their hoof into a thin, sharp edge. The process involved shaving the top layer, a fraction at a time, and leaving the bottom layer solid and flat. If they carved the toe too thin, the end of the hoof would break. Too thick and the edge would not be sharp enough to cut through a thick hide.

  Star, Bumblewind, and Echofrost each took a turn practicing on the rock. Echofrost picked up on the technique right away, and Clawfire complimented her on her first attempt. Star and Bumblewind struggled with the technique, and Clawfire had to help them.

  After several hours, Clawfire released them for the day with their hooves in varying states of deadliness. Star and the twins trod into the forest hunting for moist tree bark to eat. As soon as they were alone, Bumblewind tackled Star and knocked him down. “Got you!”

  Star rolled back onto his hooves and charged his friend. They circled each other as Echofrost cheered on her brother. “He’s bigger, but you’re stronger, Bumblewind!”

  Star and Bumblewind reared and crashed into each other, chest to chest, falling onto their backs with the impact. Star chased him around a tree, and Bumblewind kicked at the air. Echofrost joined in and they tried to ram her, but she lifted off, hovering just above them, and they smashed into each other and skidded across the soft moss. They stood and she landed, each panting, their manes entangled with pine needles, and they nickered at one another in delight.

  “Come on,” Echofrost said, “I’m hungry.”

  The three friends trotted through the dank forest. Star hadn�
��t played like that since he’d been a foal in Dawn Meadow, and his heart beat hard with the joy of it, but there was a hole in the group, and it was Morningleaf. She was Star’s best friend, and he’d never spent so much time apart from her. Where are you? he wondered. Are you safe? But no answer came to him from the empty space where she should be.

  19

  THE SWAMP

  BRACKENTAIL, MORNINGLEAF, AND SHADEPEBBLE left the southern Jungle Herd nesting ground and trotted to the small mountain range west of the cloud forest. There, in the heights, they could spy on Frostfire’s Black Army, which had landed in the grasslands called the Valley of Tears. Brackentail had devised a plan that involved revealing Morningleaf’s presence to a small envoy of scouts at nighttime, and then luring them into a trap he called the Swallows. This would give Morningleaf and her friends time to get away. Brackentail peered at the dropping sun. “We’ll wait until it’s fully dark.”

  “Where will we trap them?” Morningleaf asked, looking down at the Valley of Tears, which was miles away from where she stood. From this distance it appeared as a large green circle surrounded by trees. It was in this valley that Spiderwing had outsmarted an entire army of Anok’s strongest warriors hundreds of years ago, during the time of Nightwing. Morningleaf exhaled. She and her friends were about to attempt the same thing.

  Brackentail pointed down the mountain toward a mangrove forest that grew out of a swamp on the western end of the valley, near the coast. “See where the mangrove trees are thickest?”

  Morningleaf and Shadepebble squinted at the vast, wet swamp far in the distance. Sporadic trees, miniature islands, and flat expanses of shallow water were mixed with long reeds and jutting roots that spread out just north of the Wing River. “I see the swamp, but I’m not sure I see exactly where you’re pointing,” Morningleaf said.

  Brackentail moved closer, pressing his cheek against hers and gently moving her head. “There,” he whispered, also pointing with his wing. “On the inland side of the swamp, close to the Valley of Tears, just on the edge of the mangroves.”

  Morningleaf followed his gaze and then noticed a clump of trees so thick they looked black. “I think I have it now,” she said. He remained close to her, and his nostrils flared, drinking in her scent. She held still, also catching his scent, and then she slid away.

  “Frostfire has collected an impressive army,” Shadepebble said.

  Brackentail pinned his ears. “They’re all traitors, and Frostfire is a fool to trust Nightwing. Why would the Destroyer make a pact with anyone? Pacts are made before the black foals receive their power, not after.”

  “It’s because Nightwing’s afraid of the Ancestors who came down and protected Star,” Morningleaf replied. “He doesn’t want to face the pegasi he murdered four hundred years ago.”

  Shadepebble twisted her neck and squinted at Morningleaf. Her pink feathers glistened, looking almost orange in the sunset. “I think it’s more than that,” she said. “I think he enjoys pitting us against one another.”

  “Why?” asked Brackentail.

  Shimmering tears formed in her eyes. “My sire, Rockwing, played the same games. He’d set his captains against each other, forcing them to compete for his favor and making them hate each other. Don’t you see?” she said, fluttering long lashes that trapped her tears. “Nightwing is already destroying Anok, and he doesn’t have to lift a feather to do it. He only has to dangle a prize: power.”

  Brackentail exhaled. “You’re right.”

  “He’s toying with us,” Shadepebble continued. “And he’s enjoying it. Rockwing enjoyed it too. And worse, the two steeds that took the bait are both related to me: my sister, Petalcloud, and her colt, Frostfire.” Shadepebble shook her head. “They are the last of my family, next to my dam, Birchcloud.”

  Morningleaf sighed. “We have to keep Frostfire and Petalcloud away from Star.”

  Shadepebble flicked her tail, swatting a mosquito that had landed on her flank. “We can’t keep them away forever.”

  “I know that, but since Petalcloud’s scouts saw me in Desert Herd’s territory, she’ll be moving her Ice Warriors there. And once Frostfire sees me here, he’ll ransack Jungle Herd’s territory in search of Star’s body. All this will distract Star’s enemies and give him time to wake up . . . if it’s true that he’s only sleeping.”

  “Maybe he’s already awake,” Brackentail suggested. “We’ve been gone for sixteen days.”

  Morningleaf nodded. “I’ve considered that, and if your plan works, we’ll fly home tonight.”

  Just then the volcano Firemouth vented steam and lava with a loud boom. Morningleaf glanced at the flat-topped mountain, shuddering.

  “Well it’s dark now,” Brackentail said, nodding toward the horizon. The orange rays had vanished, and the last thin line of dusk melted into blackness. The night sky was clear of clouds, and the moon was a half crescent surrounded by glittering stars. “This is good. They’ll see us, but not well,” Brackentail added.

  “There’s a patrol!” Morningleaf neighed softly.

  A group of six warriors kicked out of the Valley of Tears. The captains had formed their battalions into a massive circle, facing outward, and the steeds inside took turns sleeping. Frostfire was well prepared for the dangers of the jungle.

  Morningleaf understood how patrols operated, having watched her sire command them. The patrol would circle the herd in a widening pattern. If she and her friends were quick, they could beat the six warriors to the mangrove swamp and be waiting when the steeds flew overhead. “Let’s move,” she nickered.

  Morningleaf trotted to a clearing, unfurled her wings, and lifted off into the sky. She gripped the current with her feathers and glided down the mountain, skimming the topmost leaves with her hooves. Behind her she heard the wingbeats of her friends, and she was grateful to have them with her.

  They skirted the Valley of Tears, avoiding the path of the patrol, and then dropped over the Wing River, following it to the ocean. When they reached the coast, they banked north and traveled toward the mangrove swamp. When they reached it, Morningleaf looked down and saw the slimy backs of crocodiles floating in the water. Her belly twisted, and her breathing quickened. “See them?” she whispered over her shoulder.

  “I do,” Brackentail answered.

  “Me too,” Shadepebble said.

  “Don’t land in the water,” Morningleaf warned.

  “But where then?” Shadepebble asked, cruising faster and flying next to Morningleaf, her short wing flapping faster than the other. The islands were thick with trees and exposed roots, leaving no obvious landing spots.

  “We’re going to have to land on the tree roots that are above water,” Morningleaf explained. “Use your wings for balance.”

  Morningleaf dropped through the sultry air toward land. She cruised between the mangrove trees until she found a layer of roots thick enough to stand on. Shadepebble and Brackentail landed beside her.

  Brackentail glanced toward the sky. “They’re coming!”

  Morningleaf’s heart pounded, thumping blood that raced between her ears. The six warriors, a mix of stallions and mares, flew her way. Their wings pumped mightily, and their eyes squinted, leaving no area unsearched.

  “Hold steady,” Brackentail whispered.

  The six steeds swept their necks in steady arcs from side to side, scanning the terrain. Next to her, Shadepebble whimpered.

  Then Morningleaf recognized one of the stallions—it was Frostfire himself. He was leading the patrol and vivid memories assaulted her. Frostfire had promised to hide her from Nightwing and had escorted her away from Star and River Herd, but he’d lied. As soon as they were far enough away, he’d clubbed Brackentail, almost killing him, executed the handsome young stallion Summerwind, and then had his sire’s flight feathers yanked out so the old stallion couldn’t follow them. She blinked hard, seeing again Frostfire’s white hide splattered in blood—as if the killings had just happened. The mangrove forest warped, a
nd Morningleaf felt dizzy. Fear shot through her exhausted nerves.

  “Keep it together,” Brackentail rasped, staring into her eyes. “Morningleaf?”

  She locked her gaze on Frostfire, her breath coming faster and faster. His one blue eye seemed to grow as she stared at it. Her vision blackened, and the mangrove forest spun. “I—I . . . help me.” Morningleaf tumbled off the thick roots and splashed into the water. The sudden immersion into the warm swamp revived her enough to kick out her legs and swim, but her crash into the water had attracted Frostfire and his patrol.

  They soared toward the noise, toward Morningleaf.

  20

  DANGERS BELOW

  MORNINGLEAF PADDLED IN THE MURKY SWAMP, her chest heaving. She could not stop staring at Frostfire’s one blue eye as he hurtled through the night sky—he was going to spot her, but it wasn’t time. They weren’t at the Swallows yet. She would ruin Brackentail’s plan and get herself captured.

  I won’t let that happen, she thought, and she dived under the water, swimming toward the bottom. Her heart hammered her ribs, and her panicked lungs tightened, already running out of air. Something touched her, a vine, and she sputtered, swallowing water. She opened her eyes wide, searching for crocodiles, but the water swirled with mud.

  A pegasus plopped into the water next to her, but it was too dark to know if it was her enemy or her friend. She twirled away from him, but he followed her and snatched her wing. She faced him; teeth bared, and then realized it was Brackentail.

  He swam her through the water toward a clump of sunken roots. When they reached the roots, he spun her around so their tails were protected. Brackentail coiled back his front legs, prepared to attack anything that came their way. Morningleaf’s lungs burned so badly she bucked and pointed toward the surface. Brackentail narrowed his eyes and shook his head, his mane floating around his face.

  Morningleaf held still, holding her breath. She peered up through the shallow waters and could make out the shapes of pegasi swooping overhead. She strained toward the surface, but Brackentail snatched her down. Frostfire would see her if she emerged now, but she desperately needed air.