13

SNOW HERD

“I WONDER WHERE STAR IS AND WHAT HE’S doing?” Morningleaf said to Bumblewind and Grasswing. It was late afternoon in Anok. Thousands of sparrows chattered in the oak trees, and insects buzzed from flower to flower in Sky Meadow. Morningleaf, Bumblewind, and Grasswing were grazing quietly together.

“I think he’s in the Vein,” said Bumblewind.

“Let’s not speak of where we think he is or what he might be doing,” Grasswing said, lashing his tail at Bumblewind. “The meadow has ears.”

Morningleaf wished her father were more like Grasswing. The palomino stallion was stern but kind.

“What do you think Echofrost is doing right now?” asked Bumblewind.

“No doubt she’s more miserable and more frightened than we are,” Morningleaf said.

Across Sky Meadow, Thunderwing prepared the stallions for war, even the yearlings. He drilled them from sunrise to sunset. If the over-stallions of the other herds found out he’d lost track of the black foal, he could be executed, and Thunderwing wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight.

A shadow of wings crossed over the field, and a Sun Herd stallion let out a sharp peal of alarm. Morningleaf tucked her tail and galloped to the weeping willow tree for cover. She peeked through the branches and saw an envoy of pegasi from Snow Herd. Bumblewind charged into her, breathing hard, and halted. The two friends watched the strange pegasi approach.

Their massive shoulders powered wide-set wings that carried their thick bodies through the air. Their hides were white, light gray, or cream colored, with pale feathers. Morningleaf didn’t think they were raiders; there were too few of them for that.

Besides, the envoy consisted of mares, stallions, and even a weanling. The presence of the young colt was their proof they meant no harm. They circled Sky Meadow until Thunderwing signaled his permission for them to land.

“That’s Icewing,” whispered Dawnfir. She and the others had joined the weanlings under the tree. Grasswing nodded in affirmation.

Morningleaf studied the over-stallion of Snow Herd. Since Icewing was Lightfeather’s sire, that meant he was Star’s grandsire. He was a stunning dark-silver pegasus with a white mane and a shimmering tail. It fell in loose ringlets like Star’s tail. His feathers were powder blue and so were his eyes. He was thick and hairy, but his muzzle was refined for a steed his size. The large white star on his forehead was in the same shape as Star’s.

As was customary for dignitaries from other herds, the envoy was given rest and led to water before Thunderwing demanded the reason for their visit. Standing next to Icewing, Morningleaf saw her father in a new light. Maybe he was so tough because his enemies were so tough. Both stallions were designed for battle, with heavy muscles, rock-hard hooves, and powerful jaws. Thunderwing was taller than the Snow Herd over-stallion but leaner.

Her father’s warriors could dispatch of the envoy in a few bloody minutes, but Icewing had taken quite a risk to come here himself, and her father would hear him out. Once the Snow Herd pegasi had replenished themselves with grass and water, Thunderwing invited them to approach him.

Icewing had not requested a private meeting, so most of Sun Herd jostled for a position to listen. It was rare for Morningleaf to wield her status as the over-stallion’s daughter, but today she did. Pegasi made way for her as she flew to a spot at the front of the herd. Bumblewind followed and landed at her side. Grasswing pushed his way through the herd and stood with them. They had a perfect view of the over-stallions.

Thunderwing and Icewing faced each other, and neither flinched nor even seemed to breathe. After moments of silence Thunderwing finally said, “You have traveled a long distance, Icewing; tell us why you have come. Do you seek our assistance?”

Morningleaf glanced at the silver over-stallion for his reaction.

Icewing snorted. “Snow Herd requires no assistance. I’ve come to claim my heir and daughter, Lightfeather. My mate drove her off when she was a filly, and I’ve heard she lives here.”

A collective murmur and flutter of wings rippled through Sun Herd. Morningleaf whispered to Bumblewind, “I thought this was going to be about Star.”

Thunderwing rattled his feathers. “Why do you come for her now, after such a long time without her?”

Icewing lifted his head, but his wings slumped, looking heavy and sad. “I’ve no foals left, no heirs. She’s of age to join with a stallion and continue our line.” Icewing narrowed his eyes. “If I leave here without her, I will return and take her by force.”

Morningleaf sucked in her breath. “Icewing doesn’t know Lightfeather is dead,” she whispered to Bumblewind.

Thunderwing flared his crimson wings. “It’s been too long. Lightfeather is a Sun Herd mare now. You have no claim on her, heir or not.”

Icewing twitched, and Morningleaf believed it took all the stallion’s willpower not to clobber her father over the head.

“What does he mean, ‘heir’?” asked Bumblewind.

Grasswing answered. “Snow Herd and Desert Herd track their lineages. Lightfeather and Frostfire are the last foals in Icewing’s line, and both were driven from Snow Herd by his mate, Petalcloud.”

“No, there is another,” said Morningleaf, eyes wide. “Star is Icewing’s grandson.”

Grasswing pricked his ears. “You’re right, but if Thunderwing won’t let Icewing claim Lightfeather, he won’t let him claim her colt either—not that Icewing would want Star.”

Bumblewind eyed the impressive silver stallion. “It’s hard to believe he only had two foals.”

Morningleaf knew the stories. Icewing’s mate was Rockwing’s traitorous daughter, Petalcloud. She was ambitious and wanted to be a lead mare, but this couldn’t happen in Mountain Herd, where her father was over-stallion. To gain her freedom from Mountain Herd, Petalcloud promised to give Rockwing her firstborn colt. Rockwing had two fillies, but all his colts had been born dead. He accepted Petalcloud’s deal and let her leave.

Petalcloud then traveled to Snow Herd, where Icewing was the new over-stallion and had not yet chosen a lead mare. She convinced him to choose her without telling him about her deal with her sire. The cunning mare kept her promise to Rockwing and gave her firstborn colt, Frostfire, to him. Icewing was furious, but unable to stop it without declaring war. After that Petalcloud and Icewing had six more foals, and like her sire’s foals, all six were born dead.

In frustration, Icewing sired Lightfeather with another mare. When Petalcloud found out, she drove Lightfeather and her dam out of Snow Herd. Lightfeather’s mother was killed by a bear, and several days later a Sun Herd patrol found the little white filly hiding in a tree, and they rescued her. That was many, many seasons ago, and long before Morningleaf’s birth, but the stories about Lightfeather were Morningleaf’s favorites.

Thunderwing snorted, bringing Morningleaf out of her thoughts, and he abruptly ended the argument with Icewing over the adopted filly. “She is not your heir any longer. Lightfeather is dead.”

This news took Icewing off guard, and he reared back. “Dead? Why didn’t you send a messenger?”

Thunderwing stamped his front hooves. His captains tensed, and Icewing’s entourage splayed their wings. Morningleaf tensed too. If this meeting got out of control, she would have a front-row view of a massacre. She held her ground and memorized the conversation. If she ever saw Silverlake again, her mother would want to know every detail.

Thunderwing tempered his fury. “Why would I send a messenger to Snow Herd? My mate adopted Lightfeather. She became our filly.”

Icewing matched the words with rearing and stamping of hooves. His dense coat was wet with sweat in the heat. “I’m her sire.”

“I raised her.”

Morningleaf pricked her ears, noticing that her father’s eyes were sad. She and Star were born the same night, and neither of them had known Lightfeather for more than a few hours, but Thunderwing had known the white mare almost her whole life. Morningleaf wondered for the first time how Thunderwing felt when Star’s birth killed his adopted daughter. He was angry, everyone knew that, but maybe he was also terribly sad.

Icewing flared his wings, his battle muscles twitching. It was clear to Morningleaf that this was not going to end well, but the same realization must have dawned on Icewing, along with the knowledge that he didn’t have enough steeds with him to do battle. Icewing softened. “It’s common courtesy to send a death message, even for a stolen or adopted foal.”

Thunderwing lowered his wings, also seeming to decide against battle. “That’s true,” he said, and the tension between the stallions eased. Morningleaf was glad. With Rockwing threatening them over the hills, it wasn’t a good time to pick a fight with another herd.

Icewing folded his wings, mollified. “Please tell me how she died.”

The Sun Herd steeds shifted, tensing. Lightfeather’s death was not something they liked to remember, but Thunderwing did not mince words. “She died birthing the black foal.”

Icewing staggered backward as though Thunderwing had kicked him in the gut. “My daughter is the mother of the black foal?”

“Was,” corrected Thunderwing. “And there is your solace. If you had claimed the filly while she was still alive, the black foal would be your problem right now and not mine.”

Icewing’s jaw gaped, and he was unable to speak. One of his under-stallions requested a water break. Morningleaf noticed that all the thick-coated steeds were dripping with sweat. Thunderwing agreed. The Snow Herd envoy met in the shade of the grandmother oak tree to speak in private.

Morningleaf watched Icewing lean on another stallion, his eyes round and rimmed in white. She’d never seen an over-stallion overcome by any emotion other than anger.

Sun Herd went back to grazing until Icewing was ready to meet with Thunderwing again. The silver stallion’s attitude had changed. “I thank you for raising my daughter, Thunderwing, and I relinquish my claim on her.”

“I’m sure you’ll see her soon enough in the golden meadow,” Thunderwing said, mocking Icewing’s old age.

Grasswing lashed his tail, speaking to Morningleaf and Bumblewind. “That coward!”

“Who?” asked Morningleaf.

“Icewing—he’s afraid to claim Lightfeather now, afraid it will mean Snow Herd is the rightful guardian herd of Star.”

Morningleaf considered his words and was glad Star wasn’t here to witness his own grandsire denying him. “It’s not even necessary to cut ties with Lightfeather and Star,” she said, grumbling. “Star was born to Sun Herd; that makes him ours.”

“True,” said Grasswing, “but in a herd that tracks lineage, it matters.”

Icewing now seemed embarrassed by his visit, and he ignored Thunderwing’s comment about his age. “Before we leave, I’d like to see Lightfeather’s colt, the black foal, and take news of him to Snow Herd.”

A hush fell over the meadow.

Morningleaf knew Star’s life was the business of every pegasus in Anok, so her father could not deny Icewing’s request.

“What is it?” asked Icewing. “Did he die too?”

“Not yet,” said Thunderwing. “He escaped.”

Icewing reeled, and Morningleaf wondered if the old silver stallion could handle another shock. He recovered and thrust his chest toward Thunderwing. “You lost the black foal of Anok?” Icewing peered into the sky, as though Star might be flying there.

Thunderwing arched his neck. “He’s not up there. He can’t fly.”

“You lost a weanling who can’t fly,” Icewing sputtered. “How is that possible?”

Thunderwing narrowed his eyes and refused to answer.

Icewing folded his wings and shook his head. “Were you going to tell the herds, or does your reluctance to send messages extend to all matters?”

Thunderwing had made the biggest error of his life when he lost track of Star, and Morningleaf watched him eat Icewing’s insults. Morningleaf wondered why Thunderwing didn’t lie. She could only guess it was because he knew he would be found out sooner or later.

“I will send messengers to the herds,” said Thunderwing. “This just happened.”

“Can you explain to me how it happened?” Icewing asked this without hostility but with open curiosity.

Thunderwing sighed. “It was my mate, Silverlake. She nursed him after Lightfeather died. He’s her milk son, and she hid him to protect him.”

Icewing, whose mate had also betrayed him, nodded. “Where is Silverlake now?”

“I banished her for her treason,” said Thunderwing, pinning his ears.

Placated, Icewing ruffled his feathers. “I’ll send the messengers to the other herds.”

“No, I will,” insisted Thunderwing.

Icewing arched his neck. “We both will. And I’m going to suggest that each herd form patrols to search for the foal. One of the herds will find him, and then we’ll meet back here on his birthday so you can execute him—in case you need our assistance.”

Thunderwing’s hooves danced in anger, but he absorbed the parting slur.

Icewing commanded his envoy to kick off. The Snow Herd steeds galloped into the sky just as the sun set over the sea in the west.