The Guardian Herd: Stormbound (4 page)

Star and Morningleaf settled in the soft grass. “I think it took great courage for Brackentail to approach us,” said Star.

“Or great stupidity,” said Morningleaf with a snort. She tucked her nose into her aqua feathers.

Star curled into his long black wings, drawing them close to his body, and the two friends drifted into silence. Much had changed in a moon, but even more had not. The pegasi who didn't believe in Star were more afraid of him than ever. The Hundred Year Star was gone from the sky, but in its place was Star himself, the black foal of Anok, the most powerful pegasus alive.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING STAR MET WITH THE
council, which consisted of Silverlake, Thundersky, Hazelwind, Sweetroot, a mare called Dawnfir, and the past over-stallion of Snow Herd, Icewing, who was now Iceriver. “Our coats are growing thick,” Silverlake said, speaking first. “It's past time to migrate south, where it's warmer.”

“What about Brackentail? We must address his presence here,” Hazelwind said. “Echofrost wants him executed, and I agree.”

Thundersky raised his head, commanding their attention. “The Betrayer can't be trusted. I don't think we should execute him, but I don't think we should bring him with us when we head south. Let's leave him to his fate.”

There was silence as they all considered the options. Silverlake turned to the medicine mare. “If we were to keep the colt, is he well enough to migrate?”

Hazelwind stamped his hoof at the suggestion, but he let Sweetroot answer. The old mare considered her words thoughtfully. “He's not well, but don't underestimate his determination. He shouldn't have made it this far. Something is driving him to survive. Just this one night of rest and grazing has restored him more than I expected. He might keep up if we walked.”

“Or Star could heal him,” said Silverlake, “and then we could fly.”

“No!” neighed Hazelwind. “He must endure the wounds he's earned. If you won't kill him, then leave him here as Thundersky suggested. We'll see how his will to survive handles a pack of wolves or a hungry bear.”

Silence fell on the council once again, and soon the steeds were all looking at Star. “Brackentail tried to kill you when he tricked you into the canyon run,” Hazelwind reminded Star. “What do
you
want to do with him?”

Star swiveled his ears, thinking. “I want to bring him with us.”

Hazelwind snorted and lashed his tail.

“Why?” asked Dawnfir, who had been quiet until now.
“How could you want that after what he did to you and Sun Herd?”

Star saw himself reflected in the dark eyes of his friends. With his head up, he towered over all of them, except the old Snow Herd steed Iceriver. Star appeared a stallion, though he was only a yearling. He understood why they thought he knew what he was doing—he looked like a pegasus leader—but Star was unsure. And now, with them pressing him, he had only one answer and it came from his gut, not his head. “I want to bring him with us because he asked us to.”

The pegasi were stunned for a moment. Then Hazelwind, looking baffled, said, “That's ridiculous.”

Star shrugged his heavy wings. “I understand why Brackentail wanted me dead. He thought he was protecting Sun Herd and Anok. So did Thundersky.” Star glanced at the crimson-winged stallion who'd once promised to execute him. Thundersky sighed deeply, not arguing Star's point. Star continued. “And I don't believe Brackentail walked this far alone with the intent to harm us. He needs us. He's asking for our help and protection, knowing he doesn't deserve it. I think we should give it to him.”

“But he caused us to lose our territory,” said Thundersky.

“No. Rockwing did that,” Star pointed out.

The group shuffled uneasily. Silverlake spoke. “Star is right. Brackentail is not a threat to us anymore.”

“I'll never trust him. Ever!” snapped Hazelwind.

Star studied Hazelwind's clenched jaw and noticed how much he resembled his sire when Thundersky was over-stallion of Sun Herd, but Hazelwind had a good point: none of the herd trusted Brackentail. “Why don't we bring him and keep a watch on him,” Star suggested. “Give him a chance to earn back our trust.”

Hazelwind and the others looked around and nickered. They agreed reluctantly to that condition.

“But what about the migration?” asked Dawnfir. “Because of Brackentail, we'll have to walk, and we're already late. Why don't we travel in two groups: fliers and walkers?”

Silverlake shook her head. “It's not safe to split up; there are too few of us. If we leave today and walk down the coast, we can reach warmer lands within a moon.”

“No,” said Star. “There's not enough to eat along the coast, and we have pregnant mares ready to give birth any day. If you let me heal Brackentail, we can fly. It will be faster and safer.”

“Can you heal just the wing?” asked Hazelwind, his body still tense and angry.

“I don't know; I could try.”

The council voted. “Our decision is made. We'll begin our migration today when the sun reaches the peak of the sky, and Star will heal only Brackentail's broken wing.”

The council disbanded, and Star trotted directly over to Brackentail, with Sweetroot following. Hazelwind coasted over the grass and landed next to Echofrost. They whispered heatedly and then Echofrost collapsed in a heap. She glared at Star from across the field, her ears pinned and her eyes bright with anger. Star felt terrible for causing Echofrost more pain, but he wouldn't execute Brackentail. He couldn't.

Star focused on his task and halted when he reached the brown yearling. Brackentail was much improved from yesterday, more closely resembling the colt who had tormented Star and his friends the first year of their lives. But now his ears and head were down and humble.

Brackentail cringed when he saw Star. “Have you come to kill me?”

Star touched Brackentail's shoulder with his wing. “No. I've come to heal your wing. You're migrating with us.”

“What?” Brackentail blinked his wide eyes. “I am?”

“Yes, but you'll be closely watched. There are those who still don't trust you.”

Brackentail nodded and exhaled. His quivering body stilled, but his eyes remained alert.

Star studied Brackentail's wing. It was broken near the root, the worst place for a wing break. It would eventually heal on its own, but it would never support Brackentail's weight in flight again—not without Star's help. Rockwing's captain, Frostfire, had purposefully grounded the yearling for life—turned him into a dud, a punishment almost worse than death.

Star shook his head, tossing his thick mane. He couldn't believe Frostfire's cruelty. Frostfire and Star's mother, Lightfeather, shared the same sire: Iceriver. Star had learned the news from Iceriver himself after he joined River Herd. How could one stallion sire two pegasi who were so different? Perhaps it was the mares who made the difference. Lightfeather's dam had died saving her filly from a bear. Frostfire's dam, Petalcloud, had given her colt away the day he was weaned, selfishly trading him for her own freedom. Now Frostfire, the white stallion with one blue eye, plagued Anok as Rockwing's cruelest captain, famous for his devastating injuries. And even worse: this vicious captain, half brother to Lightfeather, was Star's uncle.

Star shuddered and returned his attention to
Brackentail. Old memories assailed him like freezing gusts of wind: Brackentail calling him a horse, Brackentail mocking his mother, and Brackentail's attempt to kill him in the canyon. Anger followed the memories, and his starfire flamed and coursed through his veins. Star battled a sudden urge to destroy Brackentail, to torch his ruined wing and watch the feathers burn.

“No!” he whinnied, choking on the sudden starfire that filled his lungs and throat. Something was wrong. He scooted backward, away from Brackentail. His body shook, and small silver sparks popped between his teeth.

Half of River Herd galloped into the sky; the other half stared at Star, tensed for flight.

Star trembled violently as the starfire roared through his body. It was cold, and wild—stampeding through his veins, throbbing like it might explode. He dropped his eyes, afraid to look at Brackentail, who cowered in front of him.

Morningleaf darted out of the trees and landed next to Star. “Star! Look at me,” she whinnied.

Star faced her as frothy sweat erupted across his chest and dripped to the ground. His hooves danced like those of a frightened land horse.

Morningleaf pressed her aqua wings against his
cheeks, blocking his vision of everything but her. “Star, what's happening?”

“It's the starfire,” he whispered, and dark-gray smoke drifted from his mouth.

“You can't heal him?” she asked.

“It's not that. I might kill him.”

“What?” Morningleaf pricked her ears. “I don't understand.”

Star shook his head, tossing his mane from one side of his neck to the other in a black arc. “Neither do I. I don't want to hurt him, but I'm angry with him. It's not like when I healed you. It feels different.”

Morningleaf searched his eyes. “It's your anger, Star. You have to let it go.”

Star nodded, grimacing. “I'll try.” Morningleaf lowered her wings and Star refocused on Brackentail. The colt had bathed in the sea earlier. He smelled of brine and was free of flies. Brackentail's raw wounds stood in sharp contrast to his clean coat. Jagged gashes crisscrossed his chest and back, swollen skin marked areas of extreme bruising, and his right front leg was sliced open almost to the bone.

It was obvious Frostfire had kicked the colt to near death, but it was the ends of Brackentail's broken wing that captured and held Star's attention. The frayed and
bloody feathers, the inability to fly—Star had suffered the same torture. It was something so horrific he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. To take away the ability to fly from a pegasus
was
abominable.

Star stared at Brackentail's mangled feathers and saw his own, from when he was a dud. The starfire settled and then rumbled through his belly, radiating a pleasant, tingling sensation across Star's ribs. He drew on this gentle power, letting it swell in his chest, and then he opened his jaws and drenched Brackentail's wing in golden light.

The colt gasped and staggered, steadying himself so he didn't fall over.

Star pushed the starfire up and out, exhaling light and sparkling electricity into Brackentail's orange wing. The yearling's flight bones glowed, appearing as bolts of lightning under his skin, and the starfire vibrated the wing and coursed down through each broken feather.

Around them, River Herd landed and gathered. A hush fell over all of them like the quiet that announced the birth of a new foal.

When the feathered limb was restored, Star closed his mouth. Brackentail stared at his wing, unsure, and then he extended it and flapped it. It was healed, completely.

Star knew he was supposed to stop with the wing, but he saw that Brackentail's leg wound was located across a
knee joint. Movement of that leg would repetitively aggravate the wound, and it would never heal. Star quickly blasted the area with a burst of golden fire. He left the rest of the wounds to heal on their own.

When Star turned around, he was face-to-face with Echofrost. Huge, angry tears rolled down her cheeks. She shook her head, turned her back on Star, and walked away. A kick to his gut would have hurt Star less. He staggered into Morningleaf.

The chestnut filly propped up Star with her body. “Echofrost just needs time.”

“She hates me,” neighed Star.

“She hates Brackentail,” argued Morningleaf.

Sweetroot inspected Brackentail's freshly healed wounds. “Can you fly?”

Brackentail flapped his wings and flew a small circle around the meadow. “It feels like it was never broken,” he said in amazement. He turned to Star, baffled and awed. “You . . . you saved me, Star.”

Star was too confused and sad about Echofrost to speak. He nodded quickly to Brackentail, and then he and Morningleaf kicked off and flew away to graze together before the migration later that day.

“Don't feel bad,” said Morningleaf when they landed in a meadow not far from River Herd. “I heard that
Brackentail tried to apologize to Echofrost last night. She wouldn't listen to him, but I think she'll come around, in time. None of this is your fault.”

“It feels like my fault. All of it.” Star swept his wing, indicating the entire land of Anok.