34
BONE BREAKER
STAR MET ASHRAIN AT THE SET OF HOOFHOLDS that had been designed for him. They were extra sturdy to accommodate Star’s large size, and his basket was stocked with bone breakers. “This is Springtail,” Ashrain said, indicating a light bay skewbald mare with dark-blue feathers. “She’ll gather fresh stones for you when you run out, and she’ll scout for you, warning you when the enemy is near.”
“Hello, Starwing,” she nickered, dipping her head.
He greeted her. “But please call me Star,” he said.
She nodded. “I’ll attend to your every need. Besides fresh stones and scouting, please let me know if you become hungry or thirsty. There is water close, and I’ve stashed a supply of nuts to give you energy.”
Star’s eyes widened, and he stared at Ashrain.
“It’s her job,” explained Ashrain. “She’s a battle aide. She supports warriors and battle mares. Her job is to keep you fighting.”
Star had never heard of such a thing, and he hadn’t realized Jungle Herd was so organized. As a foal, he and his friends had believed they were weak and afraid because they attacked from the trees—but they’d been wrong. Jungle Herd and Desert Herd used their unique terrain in their favor, and their bodies had adapted to their kind of battle, from Jungle Herd’s camouflage feathers to Desert Herd’s high-altitude flight specializations.
Star huffed. He couldn’t wait to tell Morningleaf he had a “battle aide.” “Thank you, Springtail,” he said, deciding not to inform her that he didn’t need food or water or nuts for energy—not with the starfire crackling through him. It was her job to be helpful and so he would let her help.
Star leaped toward his hoofholds, flapping his wings to lift himself above them. He placed each hoof into its stand, folded his wings, and settled into the tree. In front of him was the tightly woven basket full of bone breakers, the huge rocks he’d be throwing to disable enemy warriors. His gut clenched at the sight of them.
Ashrain hovered in front of Star, pumping her wings. “I built another set of hoofholds in the tallest tree at the center of the Trap,” she said. “The Desert Herd mare Sunray is there, watching. She spotted Frostfire’s Black Army; they’ve landed on the tundra and are marching toward us. Our flying scouts reported seeing Petalcloud’s Ice Warriors approaching the Wastelands. She’ll arrive here by nightfall. There may not be much of a break between battles.”
Star nodded, and sweat prickled his hide. A heavy, low fog had rolled into the Trap, masking his view of the ground.
“Look there,” said Ashrain, pointing. “Dewberry is close.”
Star squinted and saw Dewberry fluttering her emerald feathers at him from a distant tree.
Ashrain continued. “Silverlake’s team will lead the Black Army here. You and the others will take out as many as you can with the stones.”
“But I can hardly see,” Star said.
“Their movement will disperse the fog,” Ashrain explained. “Take out as many steeds as you can and then Hazelwind’s team will engage them on the ground. You can join us then, when ground combat reaches its peak. We’ll need your large size. And Hazelwind told me what you did to the ice tiger—your kicks have become quite accurate.”
“I didn’t kill her,” said Star, thinking of the unconscious cat.
“But you could have if you’d wanted to,” said Ashrain. “You’re gentle, Star, I see that, and I won’t lie. This battle is going to seem horrible to you . . . at first.”
Star blinked at her.
Ashrain stared toward the sky, which was blocked by the thick overhead foliage. “But you will get over that, and then the blood of your warrior ancestors will begin to flow. You’ll see that you are built for war, Star. You’ll thrive on it, and you’ll grow to love it.”
Star gasped, not believing Ashrain. The mare nickered. “You don’t believe me now, but you will later. Throw straight and don’t think too much. I’ll be close.”
Star nodded and watched Ashrain fly away, and her absence left Star feeling cold. This war is worth fighting, he reminded himself. The Ice Warriors and the Black Army weren’t attacking his friends for their own survival; they were attacking for power. They’d chosen to help Nightwing, and it was up to the United Army to show them that they had made the wrong choice. Star steeled himself for battle.
And he didn’t have long to wait.
The twice-repeated call of a cardinal echoed through the Trap. It was Redfire’s signal that the enemy had made landfall near the forest. “They’re here,” Dewberry whinnied.
“Shh,” Star whispered.
He settled into his hoofholds and lifted a large stone out of the basket, feeling the devastating weight of it. He swiveled his ears, but the forest was unnaturally silent. A deer bounded past, looking terrified. The animals know what’s coming, Star thought.
He waited, motionless, and then his ears pricked forward. Dewberry also tensed; she heard it too—hoofbeats, probably Silverlake’s. It was her team’s job to lure the enemy into Star’s line of fire. He crouched, readying himself. A steed burst into view—it was Shadepebble’s dam, Birchcloud. The light bay mare dodged trees and leaped over branches, scattering the fog in her wake. She was gasping for air, and bleeding from a deep gash in her chest.
Star sprang into action. He drew back his wing, clenching the boulder in its center. The tree swayed as he moved, but the hoofholds were well constructed, and they supported his shifting weight.
Three stallions galloped on Birchcloud’s tail. Without thinking, Star hurled his first rock, slamming the closest stallion in the leg and snapping it. The stallion screamed and tumbled to the ground.
His companions jumped over him, their eyes wide and startled.
Star already had a new stone in his wing. He threw it, and then another, in rapid succession. He nailed one stallion in the head, knocking him out, and the other he hit in the back leg as he was running away. Both stallions dropped, and Birchcloud disappeared safely into the trees.
Star gasped for air. His blood rushed, and he felt sick. He watched the fog roll over the stallion’s bodies, covering them. Springtail quickly loaded his basket with more rocks. “Good work,” she nickered, and then she dropped back to her hiding spot in the brush.
Dark shadows emerged from the trees, stealthy and creeping, like jungle cats. It was Clawfire, Hazelwind, Brackentail, and Bumblewind. They slithered through the fog, making no noise—and Star’s breath caught in his throat. He turned away as the sound of hoof against bone rang through the forest. His four friends killed the enemy stallions and dragged them away.
Star’s body trembled, and he feared he would fall out of the tree. He stared up toward the sky as tears streamed from his eyes. War was horrible. He shook his head. Keep it together, he told himself.
Star’s battle aide flew to his side. “Focus,” she whispered. “More are coming.” And then she darted away, leaving him alone.
Star had no more time to think, or cry. A slew of warriors charged toward him, chasing Silverlake and her team—the bait.
Star hurled rock after rock, breaking bones and downing pegasi, saving his friends from death. Blood splattered the trees. Feathers exploded and drifted through the air, floating toward the sky and then falling back to land. The fog grew thicker, hiding the fallen steeds from view, shrouding them in mist so their last breaths tasted of clouds.
Star dripped sweat and shed feathers, but he tirelessly threw the rocks. Somewhere, deep in his mind, he waited for the blood lust to take over. It was supposed to make him feel good and powerful, but it didn’t come. The warrior blood flowed strong, he sensed it—it guided him—but it was cold, like the silver fire.
Springtail darted like a hummingbird from the ground, up to Star, and then back to the ground again. She refilled his basket and fed him nuts. He ate them because she insisted, but they made him feel ill, especially when he crunched into one that was crawling with worms. Springtail encouraged him and praised him,
calling him Starwing even though he’d asked her not to call him that.
When he could, Star checked on Dewberry. She flung her zappers with enthusiasm, slamming steeds right between the eyes and dropping them in their tracks. She rattled her feathers in victory with each success, and she waved at Star, silently cheering.
When enemy warriors spotted Star, they flew up to attack him, but Clawfire met them in midair and dragged them back to the soil. They would disappear into the fog, but Star would see Bumblewind’s brown-tipped gold wings fluttering as he and Clawfire, Brackentail, and Hazelwind swiftly ended their lives.
It appeared to Star that they were winning this battle.
But in reality it was just the beginning. For every steed they killed, two seemed to escape. The ground battle was in full force behind Star, and soon he would have to join it and kill his enemies muzzle to muzzle.
Star shuddered and threw his rocks, waiting and dreading the moment when Springtail would notify him that it was time to fight with the warriors.
35
COUNTING THE ENEMY
MORNINGLEAF DUCKED BEHIND A THICKLY FOLIAGED pine tree. Ashrain had coated her bright aqua feathers in mud, causing her to blend into the dark forest. She hunkered in the fog, her breath mingling with the mist and swirling around her muzzle. Her heart fluttered in her chest like it wanted to fly away, far from here, and she wanted to go with it, but she braced herself instead, holding firm and clenching her belly.
She felt the vibrations of the hooves before she saw the pegasi. She held her breath. A battalion of steeds from Frostfire’s Black Army trotted toward her led by their captain. Her heart steadied as she counted them. Fifty-two pegasi crept past her.
A branch cracked, and the captain halted not far from Morningleaf. He raised his wing, signaling his warriors to halt also. They were panting and listening, their ears flicking back and forth.
A mare from the United Army bolted out of the brush—it was Shadepebble’s dam, Birchcloud.
“There!” whinnied the captain. The warriors charged after Birchcloud, and Morningleaf’s heart thudded, matching the rhythm of the mare’s retreating hooves, but this was Hazelwind’s plan, to lure the enemy steeds toward the snipers.
When they were gone, Morningleaf exhaled and then cantered east to the twin pines. She met Echofrost there. “Fifty-two steeds, stallions and battle mares, heading to the hoofholds.”
Echofrost nodded, whirled around, and flew a wing length off the ground to give the news to Sunray, the Desert Herd mare spying in the tallest tree at the center of the Trap. Through her whistles, Sunray told Redfire how many enemy steeds were racing his way.
Frostfire had split his army into dozens of smaller units because the trees were too tight for a unified attack. Morningleaf blew the fog out of her nose and galloped back to the edge of the forest. She’d counted six battalions so far, all about the same size, but she knew there had to be many more. If they survived Frostfire’s assault, Morningleaf worried the United Army would not have the energy to battle Petalcloud’s Ice Warriors when they arrived tonight.
Morningleaf tossed her mane. Stop it, she chided herself.
She flattened her ears and cantered to the edge of the forest where she peeked out of the trees at the vast green tundra. It was quiet out there. The smaller wildlife had gone to their dens and nests, spooked by the arrival of the pegasus army. The larger wildlife had vanished. The north was empty and mute, as though it were the dead of winter. Morningleaf glanced at the horizon, watching the sun slowly drop. She hoped Petalcloud would wait for tomorrow’s daylight to attack so her friends could rest in between battles.
Morningleaf shook her head again and made a face. One army at a time, she thought, feeling frustrated. Focus.
She skirted the edge of the Trap, slinking like a shadow. She froze. Ahead of her, another battalion was sneaking into the woods. The fog rolled in thicker, and Morningleaf couldn’t see well enough to count them. She crept closer, letting the web of branches hide her dark body. The mud Ashrain had applied to her feathers served to camouflage her scent as well as her color. She lowered her neck and slunk closer still.
Morningleaf halted when she heard two steeds talking, their voices echoing through the forest, amplified by the silence.
“What are our orders if we encounter Star?” asked a female pegasus.
“If you see him, run.”
“But to complete the pact we need his head.”
“I’ll worry about the pact.”
Morningleaf recognized the voices. It was Frostfire and his companion, Larksong, the sky-herding mare who traveled with him. Morningleaf gulped down her fear of Frostfire and the memories of her kidnapping. She swished her tail, struggling with the part of herself that wanted to gallop away from him.
Frostfire continued. “This is about pressure, Larksong. We annihilate everyone Star loves until he’s broken and begging for death, or until he leaves Anok for good. The Destroyer just wants Star gone; he doesn’t care how.”
“But now that he’s awake, what’s keeping Star from killing us all? You know what he’s capable of. He’s a destroyer too.”
“He could kill us, but he won’t. Star is weak up here.” Frostfire pointed to his head. “I’ve led warriors like him. They’re duds; they don’t like to fight, don’t like to hurt anyone.”
Larksong seemed unsure. “Maybe, but his herd and the Ancestors are protecting him.” She glanced toward the sky that was shielded by leaves. “He won’t be easy to subdue.”
“The blasted Ancestors!” neighed Frostfire. “That didn’t happen, Larksong. It couldn’t have. Terrified pegasi make up stories.”
“But they drove Nightwing away from Star.”
“Do you doubt me?” he rasped.
She flailed. “No, of course not.”
“This is what matters—Nightwing has killed every over-stallion and taken over the herds, Larksong. We’re either with him or with Star; there’s no other choice, and I won’t choose the losing side.”
“You’re right,” she said.
Morningleaf peered around the tree trunk just as a gust of wind blew a hole into the fog. She saw Frostfire and Larksong speaking alone, facing each other, their muzzles close together. She pricked her ears. Something had changed between them. Frostfire’s frustration with Larksong did not reach his eyes the way it had when she’d traveled with them to the volcano Firemouth.
Frostfire continued. “Nightwing is not afraid of Star, but Star’s guardian herd is a problem. They’ll never submit to Nightwing, but once we rid Anok of them, Star will have no one left to protect. He’ll surrender to Nightwing or he’ll leave Anok on his own accord. And then my army will destroy my mother’s army.” Frostfire struck his hoof against the forest floor. “Petalcloud will lose, and I will win the pact with Nightwing.”
Morningleaf gasped and slapped her wing over her mouth.
Frostfire softened and wrapped his wings around Larksong. “Do you trust me?”
“I do,” she answered.
Frostfire lifted his head and motioned to his battalion that waited nearby. “Move out,” he ordered. Morningleaf counted ninety-six steeds in his group. She lifted off and flew to find Echofrost. When she spotted the silver filly, she gave her the information she’d learned.
Echofrost cantered off to tell Sunray.
Morningleaf slumped against a spruce tree. She’d thought everything would be all right once Star received his power, but everything was worse. Nightwing had returned to Anok, her sire was dead—trapped in the Beyond—and Star’s enemies had made a powerful ally in Nightwing. Morningleaf glanced at a patch of empty sky, which had once held the Hundred Year Star. What would it take for the enemy armies to accept Star and quit fighting him?
She cantered back to the southern rim of the Trap, feeling weary and frustrated. Another battalion from the Black Army was coming, dropping from the clouds. She counted them, letting her work erase her thoughts. The herds in the Trap needed to defeat t
he Black Army as quickly as possible, before Petalcloud and her Ice Warriors arrived. Morningleaf braced herself for the long afternoon and night ahead.
36
WARRIOR BLOOD
THE MOMENT TO FIGHT ON THE GROUND CAME sooner than Star had expected.
“It’s time,” said Springtail. “Come with me.”
Star swallowed hard and flew out of the hoofholds, dropping into the fog and landing beside the efficient mare.
She trotted forward, her black-and-white tail swishing through the mist. She led him first to the shallow creek bed. “Drink.” Star obeyed her, though he wasn’t thirsty. “Let me see your hooves,” she ordered, her black eyes peering at him.
Star lifted each hoof so she could inspect their sharp edges.
“Not bad.” She whistled a signal into the trees and waited.
Star shifted from leg to leg. His belly ached, probably due to the worm-infested nuts she’d fed him, and his head hurt. His wings were exhausted from hurling rocks, and they sagged to the ground. Star was about to ask who they were waiting for when two figures cantered into his view, dispersing the fog. It was Bumblewind and Clawfire. They were splattered with blood. Star gasped.
“It’s okay,” nickered Bumblewind. “We’re not hurt.”
But that wasn’t exactly true. Bite marks and scratches crisscrossed their hides, and the hot stench of battle stung Star’s nostrils, causing his pulse to quicken. Star pranced in place, his nerves humming, wondering what would happen next. In the distance he heard shrill squeals, crushing blows, and panting breaths.
“These two will take you the rest of the way,” Springtail explained.
Star suddenly didn’t want to leave his battle aide. He locked eyes with her.
She flicked her ears forward. “It’s time to go, Star. You’re bigger and stronger than most pegasi—they need you on the ground. Stay with your friends.”
The Guardian Herd: Landfall Page 16
