18

COUNTING THE DEAD

“OVER HERE,” SAID SILVERLAKE TO DAWNFIR, HER voice low. “Get the others.”

Silverlake fanned herself under the willow tree and waited. Soon Dawnfir returned with Hazelwind, Crystalfeather, Oakfire, and Sweetroot. Across the meadow, Mountain Herd, Jungle Herd, and Desert Herd celebrated their victory.

When everyone was present, Silverlake spoke. “Star was attacked by the Jungle Herd steeds near the cave where I hid him. I’m sure he’s on the run now. We have to find him before anyone else does.” She looked at each one of them. They were still stunned by the battle. Only her adult colt, Hazelwind, appeared alert, prancing, his body still coursing with excitement. He’d killed a fair number of warriors today in his first battle. With his arched neck and flickering muscles, he resembled his sire, Thunderwing.

Sweetroot put her wing on Hazelwind to settle him, but she spoke to all of them. “Can we take a moment for the dead?”

“Of course,” said Silverlake.

They dropped their heads as Sweetroot spoke the names of the fallen. Her mind was sharp from memorizing herbs and remedies, and she was able to list several hundred pegasi by name and family of origin. She finished with the three supporters of Star who had died: Ashfire, Violetsun, and Grasswing.

“Fallen pegasi of Sun Herd,” she said, “you served us with your lives, and there is no greater honor. As your bodies return to dust, we know you live forever in the golden meadow, where pain cannot follow you and where death has been conquered. Fly straight and find your rest.”

“Fly straight and find your rest,” the gathered steeds repeated.

“I’m going to ask permission to look for Star,” Silverlake said. “Does anyone want to go with me?”

“I can’t leave,” said Sweetroot. She had gathered all the wounded Sun Herd pegasi in one area where she could treat them and bring them water. Silverlake had seen medicine mares from the other four herds doing the same for their injured. Every herd had paid a steep price today.

Crystalfeather folded her wings. “I can’t leave either, not until I find out what happened to Echofrost.” Now that they were all Rockwing’s captives, Crystalfeather hoped to be reunited with her abducted filly.

Silverlake nodded. While she was spying on Mountain Herd, she’d witnessed horrible treatment of Echofrost. The filly was bullied and brutalized by the weanlings and yearlings of the herd. They wouldn’t let her sleep or graze. They bit her tail and ripped out most of the hair. Brackentail, however, had received much better treatment. He was still glossy and well fed. In fact, it seemed that Rockwing was protecting the brown colt. Silverlake could not even guess why he would do that.

“What do you make of Rockwing’s story?” asked Oakfire. “About Star killing Snakewing and controlling the animals in the sea?”

The pegasi stood in silence, swishing their tails. “It doesn’t sound like Star,” Dawnfir finally said.

“Maybe he is the destroyer,” Hazelwind said quietly.

“Impossible,” said Crystalfeather, stamping her hoof.

“Why impossible?” asked Hazelwind, still pumped from battle in spite of Sweetroot’s attempt to calm him.

“Because they didn’t all die for the sake of a destroyer.” Crystalfeather waved her wing over the piles of dead Sun Herd pegasi. Her eyes were black and unreadable, her words strangled. “And we didn’t abandon my filly to Mountain Herd savages for the sake of a destroyer.” She glared at Hazelwind. “We can’t be wrong.”

Silverlake saw her colt calm down, rebuked, but Hazelwind added, “Well, Rockwing wasn’t lying. I heard the Jungle Herd warriors talking about it, and their fear is real. They saw Star kill Snakewing with an over-stallion’s deathblow, and then a sea creature he’d been swimming with earlier came to the shore and took Snakewing underwater in its jaws without touching Star, who was standing right there.” Hazelwind’s eyes brightened with the excitement of the tale.

Silverlake held up her wing. “Stories, especially those told by scared pegasi who’d failed their mission and got their over-stallion killed, get exaggerated. Who knows what really happened?” She swept her eyes over all of them. “I do agree that Rockwing wasn’t lying—Snakewing is dead and Star was there when it happened, but that doesn’t mean he’s the destroyer.”

Hazelwind looked up at the Hundred Year Star, and the others followed his gaze. It was bigger, brighter, and growing every day—a constant reminder that the final hours were near.

Silverlake chewed her lip. Only one black foal in history, Nightwing, had ever lived this long, and he had been a disaster. She arched her neck against her own doubts. “We know the risk we’ve taken,” she said, more to herself than to the others. “Of course it’s possible that Star’s a destroyer.”

Dawnfir lashed her tail. “Lightfeather was my best friend. I watched Sun Herd abandon her when she was pregnant. I watched her fly through a lightning storm. I watched her give birth to a dead foal and then bring him back to life. I watched her love him until she took her last breath, and then I watched her die.” Dawnfir sobbed into her wings and then glared at each gathered steed, not with accusation, but with conviction. “She was never angry with Sun Herd for abandoning her. She understood our fear, but I don’t believe she went through all that for the destroyer.”

Silverlake nodded. “That is our hope, Dawnfir, and so we need to find him before Rockwing does. Will you go with me to look for him?”

“I will.”

Silverlake nodded, determined, and then glanced around. Rockwing and the three other over-stallions were guarding the sky and the land all around them. Escaping to search for the black foal was impossible. “We won’t be able to leave without Rockwing’s permission.”

“He’ll say no to you,” said Dawnfir, her wings sagging. “You’re the one who hid Star.”

“Actually, I don’t think he will,” said Silverlake, rubbing her feathers against her weary eyes. “I have an idea.”