The Guardian Herd: Stormbound (11 page)

“We won't abandon Brackentail,” said Star, regretting that his support of the yearling continued to upset Echofrost. But the council had agreed earlier not to banish their prisoner.

“Then we will part ways with no hard feelings between us,” said Hazelwind.

Morningleaf exploded, rearing and stomping her hooves like an over-stallion. Star pranced out of her way, and every glittering eye turned toward her. Morningleaf's words blasted from her mouth, colder and more biting than the arctic storm that had just passed. “Who said following Star would be easy?” She stared down her brother and her best friend, Echofrost, and then swept her eyes over the rest of Hazelwind's followers.

“But we're starving,” one of the refugees said. “And I have a filly to nurse.” Her tiny pinto foal fluttered next to her.

“Go ahead,” snapped Morningleaf. “Take Sun Herd's land, build your army, and prepare for war, because
that is what's coming for you.”

“Morningleaf!” whinnied Silverlake. “These are our friends.”

Morningleaf whirled around, her aqua feathers rattling and her ears flat. “I'm telling the truth. There is another way for us to live. All herds can be one.” Morningleaf hiccuped, sniffling back her tears. “I saw it when I died.”

The herd mumbled and whispered in surprise.

“What did you see?” asked Sweetroot.

Morningleaf pricked her ears forward. “I saw all the herds living as one, sharing the land, caring for one another, and being friends.”

The gathered steeds lashed their tails. A yearling snorted. “Never!”

An elder mare spat on the ground. “Desert Herd stallions killed my mate. I will never make peace with them.”

An older dam shuddered. “My filly was stolen by Jungle Herd.”

Flamesky, the filly who'd once teased Star for being a dud, stepped forward. “Both my parents are dead because of Mountain Herd.”

“But look at us,” said Morningleaf. “We're all from different herds, and we've learned to get along. Let's not separate.”

Sweetroot patted Morningleaf's back. “What you saw was the golden meadow, Morningleaf. That world doesn't exist here. It's there.” She pointed to the sky with her wing.

Morningleaf tensed but said nothing.

Then Echofrost's voice rose above them all. “I was tortured by Mountain Herd steeds.”

The pegasi ceased arguing and turned toward Echofrost. Hot tears fell from her eyes and melted the snow. “And it's
his
fault.” She pointed her sleek purple wing at Brackentail, then she looked at Star. “I won't live with him another day. I'm going with Hazelwind.”

Bumblewind stood in a pile of his own shedding feathers, his entire body quivering with emotion. “You're leaving me, Echofrost?”

“You can come with me,” she said to her twin.

Bumblewind glanced at Star and then back at his sister. “No. I'm sorry, Echofrost, but I won't leave Star.”

“Neither will I,” said Dewberry. Half of River Herd moved behind Star, and the other half gathered behind Echofrost and Hazelwind.

“Well, we won't stay,” Echofrost said. She exhaled, and the tension melted out of River Herd as the pegasi accepted the inevitable: River Herd was splitting. The twins trotted to each other and rubbed their muzzles, exchanging breaths.

Bumblewind nickered into Echofrost's mane, “This is terrible.”

She shook her head. “We're going to train an army,” said Echofrost. “We'll stick to the western border of Sun Herd's territory, by the Great Sea.” Echofrost lifted her chin and looked at Morningleaf. “We will rebuild Sun Herd.”

Star's gut lurched at her words.
How could they want to return there?
Grasswing and so many others had died in Sun Herd's territory, and the lush, grassy fields of Sky Meadow were still spoiled by their remains.

“Is it true about the Blue Tongue plague?” asked Bumblewind, looking at Sweetroot. “They won't spread it?”

“They won't,” said Sweetroot. “The mares Star healed are still healthy, and no one new has gotten ill since we left the infected area and came here. I believe the sickness is gone.” Sweetroot caught Hazelwind's eye. “But you must avoid Snow Herd's territory, and the land where we were staying before coming here. The soil might still hold the plague.”

Hazelwind nodded and then looked at his sire, Thundersky. “This is good-bye,” he said. “We're leaving now.”

The steeds of River Herd rushed forward to embrace their departing friends. Silverlake and Thundersky had
long words with Hazelwind. But Morningleaf still refused to look at her brother.

Star watched his friends kick off into the clouds. He'd hoped Echofrost would say good-bye to him, but she didn't. Hazelwind and his followers formed one giant V formation, with an older mare in the lead and Hazelwind following behind.

Morningleaf turned to Star. “I thought our troubles were over,” she said, “except for the usual, that is.”

He nuzzled her, feeling sorry for himself. “If Thundersky had executed me like he wanted, you'd all be living safely in Sun Herd right now, and your family wouldn't be divided.”

Morningleaf jolted and threw her head up in the air. “Stop!” she whinnied, her eyes sizzling. Star's ears drooped at her harsh tone. Morningleaf blinked, staring far away. “Your life is not a mistake,” she whispered, and then she turned and trotted after her mother.

Star was shocked by her anger, but he knew she was right. He wasn't a mistake. Too many pegasi had died for him to dishonor their memories by second-guessing himself. They'd fought for him to live, and now he had a purpose: to defeat Nightwing, because the truth was, Nightwing had never left Anok, not really. Fear of him
had poisoned the herds for four hundred years. Perhaps it was time Nightwing either reigned or was destroyed forever. And the only pegasus capable of destroying him was Star. His heart tightened at the thought.

He was Anok's last hope.

BEFORE STAR KILLED THE BEAR, AND EVEN BEFORE
he reached the Ice Lands, Frostfire and his team had left Mountain Herd's territory, rooted out the rebel, Darkleaf, and sent her stumbling home with a broken wing and injured leg. That incident was two days ago. Now the team was traveling in the Vein but would soon cross into Snow Herd's territory, where their journey would become much more dangerous.

Frostfire was in no hurry to find Morningleaf. He had not yet come up with a plan to steal the aqua-feathered filly away from Star, but he was looking forward to finding his kidnapped aunt, Shadepebble. He hoped Rockwing was correct and Snow Herd had quarantined her on her
own. She'd be guarded, but not by more than one or two pegasi, he guessed, especially if Snow Herd was short of healthy steeds. He didn't think it would be too hard to extract her from their enemies.

Frostfire landed his team near a thin river to drink. “Let's rest a moment while I decide our path,” he said to them. The pegasi drank, grazed, and stretched their wings, their movements awakening small hordes of gnats. Larksong watched Frostfire, as she often did, and her smart black eyes made him nervous. He put his back to her so he could think without her staring at him.

The truth was, he was also looking forward to seeing his mother, but he would never admit that to his team. What grown stallion pined for his dam? Frostfire hated himself for his need of her. She'd tricked his father and traded him for her freedom, leaving him with Rockwing, the sire she despised. And she'd lied to him. Frostfire swallowed as his throat tightened, remembering that day.

He was five moons old and had just weaned. To celebrate, his mother told him he would go on a special flight into the clouds with one of her captains. Frostfire's heart had soared at her words—he would fly with a warrior and finally touch the fluffy clouds. He'd been thrilled at the idea and thanked his mother. Petalcloud had nuzzled him,
and she'd looked happy too—that's what killed Frostfire. She was happy!

The stallion had escorted Frostfire on his first cloud flight, and it had been magnificent. But after playing in the white mist, the captain led him south and then east until Frostfire became exhausted. “Where are we going?” he'd asked. But the captain ignored him.

When they'd reached the canyons of the Blue Mountains, the captain and Frostfire landed. “Wait here,” he said, then flew away, leaving Frostfire alone. Frostfire's chest heaved at the memory of himself hiding in the rocks, bleating like a newborn. He'd been terrified; he couldn't deny it.

Then Rockwing himself had descended from the ridge. Frostfire trembled with fear. Rockwing examined him, making a face when he noticed Frostfire had one blue eye and one brown. The over-stallion said, “At least you're a colt, but if you want to live with me, you'd better toughen up.”

“Yes, sir,” Frostfire agreed, remembering that this over-stallion was his grandsire, but his mind had been reeling.
I don't want to live with you,
he thought.

“And if I ever see you crying again, I'll kill you.”

Frostfire wiped his tears. “Yes, sir.”

“Come on then,” neighed Rockwing, and he'd flown up
and over several ridges to Canyon Meadow. The next day Mountain Herd migrated to their southern lands, and by the time they arrived, Frostfire could not remember his mother's face. It was a black splotch in his mind, and no matter how hard he tried, his brain would not reveal her features to him.

Shrugging off his memories, Frostfire lashed his tail, striking his flanks and letting the sharp pain distract him. He didn't care about Petalcloud, of course he didn't, but still, he had to see her, to settle his mind.

“So what's the plan?” questioned Larksong.

Frostfire bristled. Sky herders were independent thinkers—they had to be in order to make snap decisions while herding enemy steeds into well-planned traps. But his warriors had been trained to obey orders instantly, and Larksong's incessant questioning grated on his nerves. “Why do you want to know?” he snapped. “Are you afraid of Snow Herd?”

As he'd hoped, Larksong shut her mouth.

Frostfire lifted his wing to get the attention of his team. “We're crossing into Snow Herd's territory today,” he announced. “Look for signs of trampled snow, broken ice, and hoofprints. We must spot them before they spot us.”

Frostfire's team murmured, excited to take back what
had been stolen from their herd: their over-stallion's filly, Shadepebble. Only Larksong was impatient for a different reason. She wanted to hurry so the team could move on to the more dangerous half of the mission: capturing Morningleaf. And after Rockwing used her to gain control of the lush territory of Star's homeland, Larksong and the team would become legends in Mountain Herd for their bravery.

Frostfire glanced at the buckskin mare, admiring her fearlessness. “This is the plan,” he said to them all. “Once we locate Shadepebble, we get in and out. This shouldn't take too much time if we're quick.”

Larksong brightened at this news.

“I will take the head wind.” Frostfire kicked off, with his team following him. It was evening, but the moon was bright and lit up the sky. Frostfire soared, traveling northwest, and several hours later, they crossed the border into Snow Herd's territory.

“Drop,” he neighed, lowering his neck and diving toward land. His team maintained formation and dropped with him. Frostfire flew a winglength above the snow to keep from being spotted.

He decided he liked traveling by night, when fewer sentries were posted. Unlike land horses, pegasi required
many consecutive hours of deep sleep. During the day, when the steeds were scattered across their territory, over-stallions kept a vigilant eye on the skies for intruders. They organized patrols and watched the land. But at night the pegasi gathered together and kept a single watch, which was relieved every few hours by fresh pegasi.

“It's so cold,” nickered Larksong, her teeth chattering.

Frostfire ignored her and focused on the landscape, looking for the reflective eyes of predators or the glimmering feathers of enemy pegasi.

Just before dawn, Frostfire and his team crested a small hill and halted, hovering in midair. “Would you look at that,” huffed a stallion.

Below them, all of Snow Herd slept in a shallow valley.

Frostfire quickly fluttered to the ground, followed by the others, and they flattened themselves into the snow. Frostfire examined the area. The landscape was wide-open to the edge of a small forest, which rimmed the valley. He looked up. A clump of clouds had passed over one-half of the moon, somewhat darkening the sky, but the stars were bright. They were downwind of Snow Herd, which was good for Frostfire's team.

“When the rest of that cloud covers the moon, we'll trot to those trees, where we can hide,” whispered Frostfire.

They waited a few moments until the wide cloud traveled in front of the moon. “Go.” Frostfire led his steeds through the soft snow, which muffled their hoofbeats. They lowered their wings to shield their quick-moving legs from attracting notice. The small hill blocked the shorter steeds from view.

Frostfire peeked over the ridge and noticed that the Snow Herd steeds were gathered into awkward groups, in various states of quarantine, just as Rockwing had predicted. Frostfire hadn't meant to land so near them, and he feared exposing his team to Blue Tongue. Most plagues affected the very young or the very old, and his team was healthy, so he shook thoughts of illness from his mind.

Frostfire recognized the olive-green feathers of Twistwing, the new over-stallion of Snow Herd. Twistwing dozed while his sentries kept an apathetic watch. Frostfire scanned the herd for Shadepebble and Petalcloud. His belly flipped at the thought of his mother. While he liked to imagine her as ugly, with shallow, beady eyes, he'd heard stories about her exotic beauty his entire life, and he'd soon learn if they were true.

One of his stallions tensed, catching his breath. Frostfire and the others followed his gaze, and there she was, his mother, standing under a beam of moonlight. Frostfire
let out a short, hard breath, and agony wrung his heart.

Petalcloud was exquisite, nothing like he'd imagined. The lines of her compact body curved with graceful, powerful precision. Her delicate muzzle widened into a broad, proud nose, and her large eyes angled into soft slants. Her coat, thick from winter, was sleek, unlike the fuzzy Snow Herd steeds, and the color was that of dark smoke. Her silver mane and tail were the same shade as the moon itself. She folded and unfolded her wings, preening her violet feathers.

“That's your dam, right?” asked Larksong in a low nicker.

Frostfire nodded, unable to speak. Her face brought shocking, long-buried memories of his foalhood rushing back to him.
He'd been happy living with her!
His mother had played chase with him and slept with her wing over his back, and she'd nipped the yearlings who'd made fun of his one blue eye.

Frostfire took a deep, ragged breath, understanding finally why his anger had always been buried under a mountain of sadness. Petalcloud
had
loved him, but in the end she'd loved herself more, and when she'd given him away, it was like she'd died. The mother who'd licked his ears and told him stories had been murdered by the mother
who'd wanted to rule a herd. He dragged his sharpened hoof through the ice decisively. He wanted nothing to do with the mare she'd become.

As if sensing his presence, Petalcloud suddenly lifted her head and stared in his direction. Frostfire and his team held their breaths, not moving.

Seconds passed, which felt like hours, and Petalcloud tucked her wings and closed her eyes. Frostfire exhaled. She hadn't seen them, but he'd seen her. It was enough. He'd looked into her eyes; and what he'd noticed, besides the beautiful shape of them, was the coldness there, like a lake that had frozen all the way to the bottom.

“Look,” whispered Larksong, pointing to a cluster of foreign pegasi. “They've stolen weanlings and yearlings from Desert Herd and Jungle Herd—but I don't see any from Mountain Herd.”

Frostfire studied the group of terrified young pegasi. The weanlings' eyes were swollen from crying. The older yearlings rattled their feathers at the guards, looking fierce. They were separated from Snow Herd but not out of sight, and eighteen powerful warriors guarded them.

“What now?” asked Larksong. “Shadepebble isn't here.”

Frostfire took a final look at the Snow Herd steeds,
also seeing no sign of his aunt. “We go,” he whispered. He led his team to the trees where they were safe for the moment, and they were lucky they hadn't been spotted, because there wasn't much cover in the north. Once the sun rose, their luck would run out.

Frostfire peered east and saw a bright stripe appear on the horizon. “The sun is coming up. We have to get out of here quickly.” He pointed at the rising light. “Fly straight into the sunrise. It will hurt your eyes, but it will blind them to us if they look our way. It's now or never.”

Frostfire glanced at each one of his teammates. Their pulses raced, and their wings vibrated. They nodded, trusting him. In that second he finally bonded with them. They would live or die together. He faced the yellow dawn. “Fly.”

Frostfire erupted from the trees, with his steeds following. They didn't look back as they flew low and fast, skimming the snow with their hooves. Frostfire's breath came quick and hot. He felt his blood rushing through his wings. If the group was spotted, Twistwing would send warriors without hesitation. As sick as Snow Herd was, the stallions appeared healthy enough to fight.

They flew for hours before landing on a rounded hill. It was full morning now. His team gasped for air. Frostfire
looked back and saw an empty sky. “We made it.”

Larksong shoved her nose into the snow and ate mouthfuls of it, her sides heaving and dripping sweat.