The Guardian Herd: Stormbound (8 page)

AT DAWN, FROSTFIRE AND HIS TEAM FLEW OUT
of Canyon Meadow on their mission. Frostfire had chosen six stallions he trusted, ones he'd trained with in Rockwing's army. Rounding out their group were the two agile mares trained as sky herders: Larksong and Darkleaf. He'd chosen them for their small sizes and fierce natures.

Frostfire knew the odds were high they would never return to Mountain Herd. He had seen the black foal up close the night Star received his power, and Frostfire was not fooled by the colt's peaceful nature. Beneath that unflinching gentleness was a deep-burning fire. He'd seen the colt stuff it down when he chose not to execute Rockwing that night.

Others in Mountain Herd believed the black foal was good, and Frostfire was not blind to the secret gatherings that occurred late at night. The steeds who wanted to follow Star pretended to graze while plotting their escape. When they did, Rockwing hunted them down and executed them for treason. These rebels hoped Star was the healer, but Frostfire doubted it. And stealing Morningleaf might be just the thing that sends the black foal over the edge and in the wrong direction.

The shiny-feathered buckskin mare named Larksong flew at the head of the V formation. Frostfire and one of his stallions each took an end.

As they traveled, Frostfire watched miles of snow-flecked pine trees and smaller areas of aspen trees pass beneath his hooves. The visible terrain was heavily trampled from grazing, and it seemed every bit of edible vegetation had been consumed. The only good thing about this mission was that food would be more plentiful once they left their territory, at least until they reached the Ice Lands.

Frostfire hadn't explained the details of their extra mission to his team yet. If he'd told them back home, he risked someone overhearing or one of his team members confiding in another steed. Kidnapping Morningleaf was too important and too exciting for most pegasi to keep a secret.

But after three days of flying by day and resting at night, Frostfire decided to inform them. They landed in a clump of fir trees near a narrow creek, where they would be shaded from the afternoon sun. Frostfire waited for his special team to drink. He flared his nostrils for the scent of predators but detected nothing unusual. Finally they sensed he was waiting for them, and they gathered to listen.

“It's time I explained our mission,” Frostfire began. “I want you to know I chose each of you because I trust you and your abilities.”

“You said we were rescuing Shadepebble,” said the sky herder Larksong, her black eyes suspicious.

“We are, but that's not all.” Frostfire looked at each one of his steeds. “We're also going to kidnap a River Herd filly named Morningleaf.”

Each team member made an incredible effort not to react, except the youngest of the warriors. “Who's Morningleaf?” he asked.

The others ignored him, each lost in thought. Frostfire understood. The consequences of this mission were unpredictable.

Darkleaf, the other sky-herding mare, answered the stallion's question in a hushed tone. “Morningleaf is Star's best friend, the filly he brought back to life.”

“Ohh,” he said in a long exhale.

“For what purpose are we taking her?” asked Larksong. She peered intently at Frostfire, her delicate muzzle blowing plumes of steam in the cold.

Frostfire balked at the forwardness of her question—he was her captain after all, but he also believed he owed his team an explanation. To target a specific steed for a kidnapping was not unheard of, but this one was Star's friend—his best friend. “Rockwing plans to takeover Sun Herd's territory. Stealing Morningleaf will ensure the black foal doesn't stop us.”

One of the stallions grunted. “Stop us? He'll
kill
us.”

Darkleaf nodded. “He's not going to like us taking her.”

“Exactly,” said Larksong, pinning her ears. “But we have to do it. Rockwing is correct; Mountain Herd won't survive another season in our small territory, and the Sun Herd lands are sitting empty, for now. We'll die if we don't claim them.”

Frostfire relaxed. Larksong's support reassured the stallions, but Darkleaf did not look convinced. In fact, she was backing away from them.

“What's wrong with you?” snapped Frostfire.

Her eyes were round and wild. “I can't be part of this,” she whinnied.

Frostfire stepped toward her, and she hunched,
flattening her ears. “It's too late to turn back,” he neighed at her.

She trembled and said nothing.

Frostfire swished his tail, irritated. “Rockwing will end you if you abandon this mission.”

Darkleaf's coiled muscles sprang, and she galloped into the sky.

“No!” Frostfire whinnied. “After her!” His team kicked off and chased Darkleaf over the tops of the trees. Frostfire gained on her easily and knocked her out of the fog with a swift, hard kick. She toppled through the branches and landed on a large boulder, squealing when her leg twisted on impact. Frostfire and his team landed next to her. “Have you gone mad?” he asked, stepping on her with one hoof so she couldn't rise.

The mare was breathing hard, and Frostfire could see the whites of her eyes. “I won't kidnap Morningleaf,” she whinnied, and then she bowed her head. “I believe in Star.”

“What? You're a rebel?” How had Frostfire made such a mistake? He racked his brain, but he didn't remember seeing her at any of the so-called secret gatherings. “Well, why didn't you follow him when you had the chance?”

“I was afraid to leave Rockwing,” she said. “But I'm not afraid anymore.”

“You should be.” Frostfire stomped on her wing, breaking it. Her body quivered in pain, and sweat rolled down her hide. She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming.

Frostfire whipped around and faced his team. “Does anyone else here have a problem with kidnapping Morningleaf?” His eyes flamed with anger. “Tell me now.”

Larksong folded her wings neatly on her back. “Quite the opposite,” she said calmly. “I'm looking forward to it.” The rest of his team nodded their agreement.

“Return home,” he said to Darkleaf. With her broken wing and injured leg, he knew she would never make it. They'd flown over dozens of wolf tracks on their way here, and her fresh blood would call the packs to her. And if the wolves failed to come, the bears wouldn't.

“That's a death sentence,” whispered Larksong, but Frostfire ignored her.

They all watched Darkleaf limp away, broken winged but with her head held high. Frostfire considered the growing number of rebels in Mountain Herd and wondered if Star's influence on the pegasi of Anok wasn't perhaps more powerful than his starfire.

SEVERAL DAYS HAD PASSED SINCE STAR AND HIS
friends returned to River Herd and gave the news that Twistwing had refused his healing power. “It doesn't surprise me,” Thundersky had said, folding his crimson wings.

“What about Petalcloud?” asked Silverlake. “Didn't she argue for the sake of her herd and the unborn foals?”

“She was even less interested than Twistwing,” said Dewberry, and Silverlake had huffed in anger.

Now Star, Bumblewind, and Dewberry were helping the River Herd steeds dig for roots in the frozen ground. Echofrost was practicing drills with Hazelwind. She hadn't spoken to Star since he'd healed Brackentail. Star
was crushed, but Morningleaf insisted he leave Echofrost alone, for now. The cause of the rift—Brackentail—stood by himself, closely watched by his guards.

“How are the mares doing?” Star asked Sweetroot. “The ones I healed?” She was nearby and busy uncovering a special plant she thought could be used for healing.

She looked up, beaming at him. “They're doing well, and their unborn foals are kicking.” Sweetroot had quarantined the mares several miles away. Three stallions guarded them at a safe distance. “Their quarantine is over tomorrow.”

Bumblewind glanced around him. “Has anyone else showed signs of the plague?” he asked her.

“So far, no.”

Dewberry nudged him. “Your tongue looks a little blue.”

“What?” Bumblewind splayed his wings. “It does?”

Star rolled his eyes. “Bumblewind, she's just teasing you again.”

Star heard the sudden fluttering of feathers and looked up to see Morningleaf flying stiffly across the tundra. He glanced at the sky and noticed that while they'd been digging for roots, a storm had amassed over the Hoofbeat Mountains. Snow drifted from the darkened, large clouds,
and a bitter wind blew it sideways.

Morningleaf landed beside them. “I can't feel my muzzle,” she complained. Her aqua feathers were dusted with frost, and her eyes had watered during her flight, causing frozen rivulets of tears down her cheeks. She blinked snowflakes off her eyelashes. “I've been looking for you all. This storm is moving fast.” She pointed her wing toward the nearest section of the mountain range. “My father and I found shelter there, to the east. It's an ice cave. It won't hold all of us, but we can fit the new foals and the elders inside. The rest of us can group together under the trees.”

Star disliked caves. He'd lived in one with Crabwing when he was a weanling, and Star never wanted to live in another. But it sounded like the best—the only—option for River Herd if they wanted to survive the burgeoning arctic storm. “Let's move,” he said.

Star and Morningleaf proceeded to gather the River Herd pegasi. Dewberry set out in search of Silverlake. She'd been appointed as a sentry, and it was her turn to patrol the skies. Bumblewind followed her.

Star was saddened by the desolate appearance of the River Herd steeds. Despair had drifted upon them like snowflakes, soft and light at first but then filling every
crevice until all other feelings were buried, trapped by the sheer weight of their gloom. The pegasi huddled in miserable, shivering clumps, warming one another as best they could. Their breath rose like smoke, and their eyes were dull.

Star and Morningleaf trotted through the herd, neighing for the steeds to follow. “Morningleaf found shelter to the east,” whinnied Star. The wind increased and whistled across the flat tundra, whipping the fresh snow into flurries that blinded him.

“It's not safe to fly in this,” said Morningleaf.

Star paused as the dull thud of hoofbeats reached his ears. Someone was galloping his way, but he couldn't see through the deluge of snowflakes. Then a gray shape emerged, followed by another. It was Silverlake and Dewberry. They slid to a halt, out of breath. “One of my sentries hasn't returned,” Silverlake whinnied, her expression anxious. “It's Dawnfir; she's late. I have to find her.”

Star trotted to her side. “I'll help you look.” Dawnfir had been his mother's best friend and was one of Star's most loyal supporters.

“Me too,” offered Dewberry.

Silverlake shook her mane. “I'll take one of you, but not both. This storm is too dangerous.”

Dewberry looked at Star. “You go. I don't know Dawnfir that well.”

“Thank you.” Star squinted across the valley. The falling snow made it impossible to see far. “I'll tell the others we're going.”

“No. I already told Thundersky. Let's go now. This storm is only getting stronger,” said Silverlake.

She whirled and flew into the snowstorm, Star following. They quickly landed, though, and scanned the tundra. “Let's not fly,” she said. “I'm afraid I'll hit a tree.” Silverlake's tousled mane blew over her ears, covering her face. She shook off the hair, but it blew right back. The force of the wind caused the snow to fall at a sharp angle, and the hard flakes bit into Star's muzzle like sand fleas. The sky had grown darker still, and the Ice Lands were shrouded in snow.

“It's a whiteout,” whinnied Star. “Dawnfir is stormbound; she can't see to fly. We'll search by hoof, and I'll try and light our way.”

He closed his eyes and conjured the warm starfire in his belly, stoking it with his thoughts and growing it bigger and hotter. When it was tumbling through his body, he drew the light up into his throat. The electric fire sparked across his tongue. He opened his mouth and let the golden
starlight beam forth. It cut through the thick falling snow and lit their path.

“I didn't know you could do that,” neighed Silverlake.

“Neither did I.” Star trotted forward, his hooves glowing gold. He wondered what else he could do that he didn't know about. He and Silverlake each spread their wings to shelter their backs from the wet snowflakes. “Where was Dawnfir scouting?” Star asked, his beam of light flickering as he spoke.

“I sent her and another mare south, to Antler Lake. They got separated in the storm, and only one mare returned.” Silverlake dropped her head and sniffed the tundra. “With all this fresh snow covering the ground, we won't see her hoofprints, and I can't smell a thing.”

Star whinnied over the wind. “Antler Lake is in an open plain. She probably went looking for shelter when the storm hit.” Snowflakes landed on Star's eyelashes, half blinding him.

Star broke into a gallop toward Antler Lake.

“No! Wait!” Silverlake neighed, rearing to project her voice. “I'll sweat if we go faster, and then I'll freeze. Let's just trot.”

Star nodded and slowed. The starfire beaming from his open mouth shone as bright as day and projected many
winglengths ahead of them, piercing the thick cascade of snowflakes. It wasn't long before they arrived at Antler Lake, which was frozen. “Maybe she went that way,” said Star, nodding toward rocky hills that would provide some protection from the wind.

Star and Silverlake trotted toward them, their hooves crunching through the frost and slipping on icy rocks. They searched the sheltered sides of the hills for almost an hour but did not find Dawnfir. Star glanced at his adoptive mother. Her white mane and tail had hardened into strands of ice, her legs quaked, and one eye had frozen shut. “Let's stop and rest,” he said to her.

She halted, and her body sagged. Her nose dropped to the snow. She shook violently, and her frosty wings collapsed at her sides. “You keep searching, Star,” she said. Her voice was rough like her throat was full of gravel. “I'll wait here.”

“No. You'll die.” Star sidled close and wrapped his wing around her. “I didn't realize how cold you were. I can help you.” Star opened his mouth and swathed her in hot gold starfire that did not burn. Silverlake startled, jerking her head upright.

Star swept the fire over her entire body and watched the ice turn to water as it melted off her. When her body
was dry and her feathers downy, Star closed his mouth and they stood in the darkness of the storm.

Silverlake nuzzled him. “Your mother would have been proud of everything you've done for us.”

Star huffed, and his breath came out in a cloud of fog. How would his mother have been proud? River Herd was starving and on the verge of freezing to death, and it was his fault. Maybe he should have reclaimed Sun Herd's territory. He shook his head, struggling with his doubts.

Silverlake seemed to read his mind. “We're free, Star. We have nothing to fear.”

But that wasn't completely true. Half of River Herd would follow him blindly to their deaths. The other half muttered about their living conditions and lack of direct leadership.

“Anyway, I'm proud of you,” nickered the mare. “Let's go this way.”

Star trotted behind her, lost in thought. So many pegasi had fought and died so he could live and receive his power. They hoped he would heal the herds, but they never imagined the herds wouldn't want to be healed. They didn't foresee that Star wouldn't know what to do.

And the tug he felt from across the sea grew stronger each time he used his starfire, as though the dark
force was tracking him. Perhaps in receiving the starfire, Star had woken the hibernating stallion, Nightwing the Destroyer. And what if the ancient pegasus felt the same connection to Star that Star felt to him? If so, then he could hunt Star down and . . . and then what, Star could only guess.

He shivered and halted.

“What's wrong?” asked Silverlake, looking back.

He dipped his head. “It's time I told you something.”

She stopped and folded her wings as he approached. “What is it? I'm listening.”

“I think Mossberry was right, that Nightwing flew west to hibernate in the Territory of the Landwalkers.”

Silverlake's feathers rattled, and she tightened her wings to stop their shaking. Her expression was dazed, as though he'd struck her. “Why are you talking about Nightwing?”

“Because I believe he's awake.”

Silverlake gasped. “Why do you think this?”

“I can feel him,” admitted Star. “I think we're connected by the starfire.”

“What does he want?” She flipped her mane against the wind. “Why would he wake up now?”

“I don't know. It's just . . . the feeling I have is getting
stronger, especially when I use my power. It's like he tracks me through it, and I guess I can track him too, because I know he's far away, in the land across the Great Sea. I think his starfire awakened him when I received mine, and now he's coming out of hibernation.”

Silverlake drew her wings in tighter. “Is he coming back to Anok?”

Star shrugged. “I don't know.”

“You must tell me if anything changes.”

She held his gaze for a long time, and Star nodded, feeling terrible. Had he survived his execution and received his power just to awaken the Destroyer? Silverlake seemed to be thinking the same thing, but he couldn't be sure.

Star switched his thoughts back to the missing sentry. “Come on; let's keep looking for Dawnfir.”