21

THE BARGAIN

STAR WOKE ON THE MORNING OF HIS FIRST birthday feeling excited and sick. Today he would receive the starfire. He stretched in the hollow of the redwood tree where the four of them had been hiding the last two days. His hoof scraped against Sweetroot’s side.

“Watch it,” she snapped, her eyes still closed.

His other leg kicked Dawnfir in the belly.

“Ugh,” she grunted.

Silverlake opened her eyes. It was dawn, and soft light lit up the floating dust and webs all around them. “If you can’t sleep, go outside,” she said.

Star emerged from the tree cave and stretched properly. He felt much better after two days of rest and Sweetroot’s medicine. The swelling in his flank was almost gone, his infection was cured, and a thin scab covered his wound. His belly was full from feasting on fallen nuts, berries, and the last of the season’s crab apples. He preened his shiny black feathers.

Silverlake popped out of the tree and approached him. “So you can fly now?”

A swift breeze tousled his mane. “I can.” Silverlake paused, and he felt she wanted to say more. “What is it?” he asked.

Silverlake blew softly. “What really happened to Snakewing?”

A vision of Snakewing in the jaws of the orca sent his heart racing, and he shook away the awful memory. “I can’t talk about it.”

Silverlake stood next to him for a long time before she spoke. “A pegasus’s first kill is his hardest.”

“So it gets easier?”

“Much.”

“Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?” Star studied the bark on the redwood tree, wondering what was wrong with him. Why was he so different from all the rest? “I don’t want to kill pegasi.”

Silverlake nodded. “That’s probably a good thing in your case,” she said, folding her wings. “Don’t lose your hope.”

Star looked at her and saw his face reflected in her dark eyes. “What if I am the destroyer?”

Silverlake swiveled her ears, always listening for patrols. “Maybe it will be your choice what you are.”

“Maybe it won’t.”

Silverlake swished her tail and knocked a bee out of the sky that had flown too close to her. “We’re seeing this through, Star.” She lifted her chin the way Morningleaf did when her mind was made up.

“At any cost?” Star asked.

Silverlake arched her neck. “I don’t know, but I can promise you this—if you’re not the healer, I will break my wings and run myself off a cliff.”

Her fierce expression made Star chuckle. “I know of a nice steep one on the coast,” he said, thinking of the cliff he’d fallen off the day he learned to fly.

She softened, nickering with him, and he realized she didn’t know what was going to happen next any more than he did. Star flicked his ears, suddenly uncomfortable. “But why are you so certain of me?”

Silverlake took a deep breath, her eyes far away and glistening with tears she refused to shed. “Because your mother was certain.” She trotted away to join Sweetroot.

Star’s gut was in turmoil the rest of the day as he waited for dusk. At midnight the Hundred Year Star would transfer its fire to him. What would it feel like? Would it transform him into a killer? His nerves tingled, and he spooked at every noise, driving the mares crazy.

As soon as it was dusk, Star whistled for Silverlake. “I can’t wait until midnight. Let’s go now.”

Silverlake’s eyes widened. “No, we have to wait until after midnight.”

“You said you had a hiding place where you spied on Mountain Herd. Take me there. I need to see Sun Herd and Morningleaf while I’m . . . still me.”

Sweetroot shook her head. “If you’re captured before midnight, you could be killed, and then the war and everything will be for nothing.”

He stood taller. “I won’t be captured. I can fly and I can fight, but I can’t wait a moment longer.” Star’s muscles quivered with agitation.

The three mares exchanged terrified glances, but Star didn’t back down. Finally Silverlake agreed. “Okay, I’ll take you to my hiding spot.”

Star closed his eyes and took a deep breath, smelling the warm bark, listening to the calls of the cardinals, and feeling the rays of the setting sun on his feathers. These were his last hours as a weanling.

“Ready?” Silverlake asked the group.

“Ready,” they said, and Silverlake kicked off into the darkening sky. “Stay close to me,” she warned.

Star galloped into the sky, his heart lifting with the thrill of flight. He flattened his neck and soared, easily catching the mares.

“Look at you,” Sweetroot said. “You’ve become quite the young stallion.”

Star beamed. He wasn’t even close to full grown.

Silverlake guided them, flying fast and low, their hooves brushing the treetops. Ahead of them loomed the Blue Mountains.

Star overheard Sweetroot’s words to Silverlake. “I hope we’re not too late,” she said.

“Too late for what?” Star asked.

Silverlake’s expression went blank, and she changed the subject. “Look, there’s Sky Meadow.”

Star tensed. The mares had told him all about the battle, but he wasn’t prepared to see the piles of bodies stacked along the edges of the meadow. The bodies showed the marks of wolves and bears. Blood and broken feathers smeared the grass where not long ago he’d played chase with his friends. A wave of nausea rolled through him. He spotted a splash of green feathers on a palomino hide, and he faltered, almost falling from the sky. It was Grasswing. “Oh no,” Star whispered.

“Don’t look,” said Silverlake.

Star averted his eyes and blinked rapidly to clear his vision, but his hot tears fell on Sky Meadow like rain, and his chest quaked with his silent sobs. He didn’t want to remember Sun Herd or Grasswing this way.

“They’re in the golden meadow,” Sweetroot whispered.

Star flew on, and behind him an embarrassing trail of white flowers sprang up where his tears had fallen. Silverlake had always been impressed by the flowers, calling them magical, but they just made Star feel all the more different and cursed.

He blinked and focused on the Blue Mountains ahead, letting anger replace his misgivings.

They reached the mountain range. “Where to?” asked Dawnfir.

Silverlake angled her wings, losing altitude. “We’ll go the rest of the way on hoof,” she said.

The four of them landed at the base of the ridge leading to Silverlake’s lookout. Star tested his legs on the steep, rocky terrain. His stifle joint under his flank ached, but he could climb. He followed the mares, scrambling up the narrow path to the plateau. A quick glance at the position of the moon in the sky told him it was almost midnight.

Star pulled himself over the ridge and halted next to the mares. They scooted aside to let him look. Spread below was Rockwing’s Canyon Meadow. It was well lit by the Hundred Year Star, which washed the huge canyon in yellow tones almost as bright as the sun. Star saw thousands of steeds making up Rockwing’s army, the warriors from the other herds, all of Mountain Herd, and the survivors of Sun Herd. They couldn’t all fit in the canyon and so they overflowed into the surrounding valleys.

Sun Herd was easy to spot. They had been corralled into the center and were guarded by thick-legged Mountain Herd stallions. In contrast to the other herds, the Sun Herd pegasi were the most colorful and the most depressed. They huddled together, wings tucked, and stared blankly at the Hundred Year Star, waiting. Star’s breath hitched at the forlorn sight of his once proud herd.

He scanned the meadow for Rockwing. There was an outcropping of flat rock that created a natural pedestal at one end of the wide canyon. There he spotted the five over-stallions of the five herds: Rockwing, Sandwing, Icewing, Smokewing, and Thunderwing. Several captains flanked them, and in the center a lone chestnut filly reared defiantly under their watchful eyes: Morningleaf.

Star’s gut dropped like a stone in a river. “Why is Morningleaf on the rock with the over-stallions?” The rest of Sun Herd’s captives, including Echofrost, waited on the grass.

Silverlake said nothing.

Star faced her. Her silver feathers looked gold in the light, and he was briefly reminded of how his mother had looked before she died. “What have you done?” he demanded.

Silverlake’s voice quivered. “I had to do it, Star.”

“Do what?” But Star could guess what. “Did you trade her so you could come looking for me?” Star arched to his full height, towering over Silverlake and thrusting his chest at her, his mind reeling.

Silverlake lowered her head in submission. “Maybe I made a mistake.”

He bellowed at her. “Maybe?”

Dawnfir pushed between them. “Rockwing didn’t leave Silverlake a choice,” she said, trying to calm him down. “She had to trade Morningleaf for the chance to look for you. With all the search parties, it was the only way to make sure we found you first.”

Star lashed his tail, unmoved.

Dawnfir continued, “And it’s a good thing we did, because vultures were circling you and you were dying from your wounds. If the other mares had found you, they would have finished you off and been done with it—and all of us, including Morningleaf, would be lost.”

Star flattened his ears. “What was the bargain?”

Dawnfir glanced at Silverlake and then answered. “If Silverlake doesn’t deliver you before midnight tonight, Rockwing will kill Morningleaf.”

Fresh bewilderment subdued Star’s rage. “Why her?”

“Because Morningleaf stood up for you after the battle, and Rockwing captured her. He found out who she was, and then Silverlake made the deal.”

“A deal you have no intention of honoring,” he said, glancing at Silverlake.

“It was the only way to keep you alive,” she said.

Star shook his head, stunned. “You’re willing to sacrifice Morningleaf . . . for me?”

Silverlake threw up her wings. “Yes. And Morningleaf agrees.”

In frustration, Morningleaf’s words flew out of Star’s mouth. “You don’t fight a pegasus on the terms he sets. You will always lose,” he added.

Silverlake choked back her sudden sobs. “I’m sorry.”

Sweetroot touched Star’s wing. “It’s easy to second guess Silverlake from up here on the rock, Star.” She swept her wings over the vast meadow full of pegasi below them. “We did the best we could. You’re alive, aren’t you? And so is Morningleaf for now, so stop grumbling and do something.”

Star followed her eyes and gazed at the assembled steeds in the canyon valleys. Morningleaf stood with her chin set and her ears pinned while Rockwing spoke to her. There wasn’t a hint of fear in the filly, and her bravery crushed Star’s heart.

Sweetroot had spoken the truth. He wasn’t there when Rockwing conquered Sun Herd, so it was wrong of him to judge his adoptive mother.

“I understand why you did it,” he said to Silverlake. “You’re a lead mare. It’s your duty to protect the entire herd.”

“That’s right,” she said with a sigh.

Star spread his mighty wings. “But it’s not my duty.” With that, he galloped forward and dived off the plateau.