7

CANYON RUN

STAR WOKE ABRUPTLY TO THE EYES OF BRACKENTAIL staring in his face. “Good morning,” said the brown colt.

Star lurched to his hooves. “What do you want?”

“It’s going to be hot later.” Brackentail blinked at the sun just cracking the horizon. “I thought we’d get this over with early.” He flared his wings in a weak imitation of Thunderwing. Behind Brackentail were his friends, Stripestorm and Flamesky.

Star nodded. “Fine, I’ll get Bumblewind.”

Brackentail blocked him. “No! There’s no time. We’re going to the canyons. We have to leave now, between patrols, otherwise they’ll see us.”

“The canyons? Why not the upper flats like you said?”

“Change of plan,” said Brackentail. “I’m challenging you to a hoof race, not a fight.”

Star pricked his ears. A hoof race was a contest that favored him. Surely Brackentail knew how fast Star could run—so why would he choose it? Star glanced at the brown colt and noticed he had longer legs than Brackentail’s, which meant his kicks had a longer reach. He guessed this was why Brackentail changed his mind, but Star preferred the switch, so he didn’t press the colt. “You’re on,” he said.

Brackentail turned, and Star followed. They trotted out of Sky Meadow into the woods, heading east. Star swiveled his ears, listening for bears or wolves.

They reached the neutral Vein between the territories, and Star halted. The canyons were on the other side of the Vein in Mountain Herd’s territory. “What about Rockwing’s patrols?” he said.

The brown colt fluttered his orange feathers. “It’s fine. They don’t watch the canyons; there’s no food there.”

Star scanned the rising terrain that then flattened into a series of flat mesas and deep crevasses. The few trees and shrubs that marked this wide expanse of rock were dry and tasteless. Brackentail spoke the truth: there was no good food here, and the sky was empty.

“Thunderwing doesn’t watch the canyons either,” Brackentail continued. “We can do what we want.”

The colt’s dark eyes glittered in the rising sun, and Morningleaf’s words echoed in Star’s mind: You don’t fight a pegasus on the terms he sets. Well, we’re not fighting, we’re racing, Star thought, and he shook Morningleaf’s voice out of his head.

“Come on,” said Brackentail.

The little group followed him across the Vein and onto the gray rocks. They were slippery under Star’s hooves. This isn’t the best terrain for racing, Star thought. They walked into the canyons, swatting at flies and munching on the few green shoots they could find, climbing higher and higher. When the rocky terrain flattened, Brackentail halted. “This is good,” he said. He nodded toward a far tree, the tallest in the area. “The first one to that tree wins,” he said.

Star nodded. “If I win, will you leave me and my friends alone?”

Brackentail exhaled. “I’ll never bother you again.”

Star thought Brackentail’s friends looked mildly frightened, but of what—of Star winning? That couldn’t be it. He surveyed the canyons, the upper cliffs, and the brightening sky. There was no sign of Rockwing’s patrols.

“Flamesky will start us off,” said Brackentail.

The red roan filly lifted her emerald wing. Star sidled next to Brackentail, noticing that the brown colt was relaxed, not tensed for running. Star’s gut flipped. Something was definitely wrong. Maybe Brackentail was going to cheat by using his wings to propel him forward. Before Star could back out, Brackentail glared at him. “This is for Morningleaf,” he said, and then Flamesky dropped her wing and Brackentail surged forward.

Star bolted after him, neck flat, ears pinned, and wings trailing behind him. For Morningleaf? What did that mean? His hooves skittered on the slippery rock, but so did Brackentail’s. They galloped away to the stifled cheers of the brown colt’s friends. Star kept one eye on the sky for Mountain Herd steeds and one on Brackentail. The rock sloped at a gentle angle upward, and Star’s long neck pumped with the stride of his legs.

He passed Brackentail, and the thrill of his impending victory fluttered in his belly like a thousand butterflies. He focused on the tall tree and pushed himself faster. Brackentail fell farther behind as Star’s hard hooves ate up the distance to the tree.

Suddenly, Star heard shouting, and a smattering of aqua and brown-tipped gold feathers rained from the sky. He looked up and saw Morningleaf and Bumblewind, and his heart soared. They would see him win. It was Morningleaf who was shouting, cheering probably.

Star’s hooves struck the ground in one steady beat as he rushed toward the finish line. Brackentail’s hoofbeats were far behind him. There was no doubt Star would win.

“Stop!” screamed Morningleaf; her whinny overwhelmed his thundering hooves and his rushing pulse. He lifted his head, and she neighed, “It’s a trap.” A gust of wind caught Morningleaf’s wing and shifted her balance, causing her to roll across the sky. She slammed into a tree and fluttered to the ground, but lifted her head to watch him.

Star dug in his hooves, skidding across the slick rock. He wasn’t sure why Morningleaf wanted him to stop, but he didn’t doubt she had a good reason. He squinted, and then he noticed the wide divide on the other side of the tree—a deep canyon—and he was sliding toward it. The crevasse was too wide to jump.

Brackentail burst past him and leaped, using his wings to fly him across.

The race was a trick! Star dragged a wing, spun himself around, and skidded backward toward the canyon’s edge. Desperate, he sank his teeth into the branches of a large bush just as his back legs slid over the cliff, knocking a flurry of rocks into the open air. His body jerked to a halt before the rest of him dropped over the edge.

Morningleaf, injured from crashing into the tree, limped to his side, and Bumblewind landed next to him. They grabbed his wings in their teeth and heaved Star to safety. The three of them collapsed in a pile at the canyon’s edge. Star was wet with sweat and panting. He couldn’t speak. None of them could.

Brackentail buzzed over them with his friends, who were trembling. “You lose,” said the brown colt, angry. And Star realized that if he’d won the race, he’d be dead, smashed at the bottom of the deep divide—exactly as Brackentail had hoped. The two colts stared each other down, and Star understood he’d been a fool.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Morningleaf said, glancing toward the sky and ignoring the brown colt. “We need to take cover.” She limped toward a grove of trees. Star, Bumblewind, and Brackentail’s friends followed her as she struggled and lay down, groaning.

Star noticed that Morningleaf’s lower front leg was swollen. “You’re hurt,” he said through gritted teeth. This was Brackentail’s fault.

“We’re sorry,” said Flamesky to Morningleaf. “We thought it was a joke, that Brackentail would warn Star before he reached the edge of the cliff. We didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“Where’s Echofrost?” Morningleaf asked Bumblewind, changing the subject, for which Star was grateful.

“We split up after we crossed into the canyons,” said Bumblewind. “I haven’t seen her since.” They all looked up, scanning the sky for Echofrost. Brackentail refused to join them under the tree. He hovered over their heads.

“We have to find her,” said Morningleaf, “and get out of Mountain Herd’s territory. What were you thinking, Brackentail?”

The colt flew in a low circle, watching them. “I didn’t know you three were going to follow me.”

Morningleaf pinned her ears. “You shouldn’t be here at all.” She staggered to her hooves. “Let’s go, but let’s stay together.”

“Can you fly?” Bumblewind asked Morningleaf.

“I can, but he can’t,” she said, indicating Star. “And I won’t leave him. We’ll walk and look for Echofrost. If you want to fly, just stay close.”

As they were about to exit the grove, a dappled gray stallion dived from the clouds and smashed into Brackentail, knocking him to the ground. Star’s heart plummeted with the colt—the strange stallion was a Mountain Herd steed! Star and the others flailed backward into the trees. Star turned his body, shoving his friends out of view and shielding them as best he could. Suddenly seven more stallions landed beside Brackentail. Star and the others froze, holding their breath.

The steeds were short and muscular and mostly gray in color. They nosed Brackentail to his hooves. “Come with us,” said a dark stallion, leaving Brackentail no choice. Star exchanged a terrified glance with Morningleaf, his nostrils flaring as he attempted to steady his breathing. Mountain Herd pegasi were fierce. It was said they lined their caves with the feathers of their enemies.

Star peeked out from his hiding spot and watched the group lift off with Brackentail in tow. They joined a larger group of Mountain Herd pegasi on a ridge far away.

Morningleaf counted the steeds in a whisper. “Silvercloud will want to know everything about them,” she said. “There are eighteen under-stallions, four mares, Brackentail, and”—she paused—“who’s that?”

Star squinted, following her eyes. Another weanling was standing on the ridge. She was unsteady and silver in color, but tall for a Mountain Herd filly.

Morningleaf gasped. “It’s Echofrost! Mountain Herd has captured her too. That’s why she didn’t make it here.”

Bumblewind bleated softly, staring at his captive sister. “Oh no! This is trouble.”

“No,” said Star, “this is war. We’ve crossed the Vein, trespassed, and now two weanlings are kidnapped. Someone is going to pay for this.”

“Not us,” said Bumblewind. “We were just trying to find you.”

Star shuddered. “Thunderwing doesn’t care about me, but he’ll want the weanlings back. And it is our fault, Bumblewind. We’re in Mountain Herd’s territory. Rockwing has the right to take us, and to punish Sun Herd.”

“We’re doomed,” whispered Flamesky.

Morningleaf flattened her ears. “All of you, quiet. This talk is doing us no good. We have to get to Thunderwing. Now.”