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TEARS

HEAVY CLOUDS MASKED THE NIGHT SKY, AND cold drizzle collected on Star’s feathers as he flapped through the mist, soaring straight up toward the moon. He was searching for the end of the massive cloud layer that blocked his view of northern Anok. Where was his herd? They had just been celebrating the defeat of Frostfire’s Black Army at their camp in the Trap. Star was content. He’d used his starfire to heal his friends and his enemies, and the herds that had been hiding from Nightwing the Destroyer were finally united and working together. Star’s ultimate goal of bringing peace to Anok had seemed imminent.

But then the cries of an injured pegasus had lured Star deep into the woods. He’d found Frostfire’s mate, Larksong, lying alone beneath a tree, groaning and bleeding. This mare was Nightwing’s ally, but Star took pity on her, using his starfire to heal her and her unborn foal. And then guilt had driven Larksong to confess an awful trick: “Run back to your herd before it’s too late,” she’d whinnied. “Petalcloud did this to me. She beat me and left me here, to lure you away from your friends.”

Petalcloud was the leader of the Ice Warriors, an army she’d formed to kill Star and win the favor of Nightwing. Petalcloud had abused Larksong in the hopes that Star would do exactly what he had done: abandon his friends.

Right after Larksong’s confession, a flash of silver light appeared from the way Star had come. Then he heard a loud explosion, like lightning striking a thousand trees at once. He’d galloped back to the scene of the celebration only to find ashes covering the ground, a giant hole blasted through the ceiling of branches that sheltered the Trap, and emptiness where his herd had been reveling. Star knew instantly that Nightwing had been there. Perhaps since Frostfire’s Black Army and Petalcloud’s Ice Warriors had failed to capture Star, Nightwing had changed tactics and decided to capture Star’s friends instead.

But where had the ancient stallion taken all of them?

Star burst into the clear sky above the clouds. Bitter cold slowed his blood, and screaming winds pierced his sensitive ears. He flew in a circle beneath the glittering stars, sucking at the sharp air and driving it into his burning lungs, but there were no pegasi here.

Frustrated, he pinned his wings and nose-dived toward land, hurtling through the wet clouds, which felt warm after the heights, and rocketing toward the Trap. He pulled up just before hitting the trees and then roared across them, his hooves skimming the branches, his eyes hunting for any sign of Nightwing or his friends.

Star landed back in the forest, and the pine needles swirled around his hooves. He held perfectly still and listened, his ears swiveling madly, trying to capture any sounds of wingbeats or hoofbeats, or the bleating of the newborns. But there was nothing, just forlorn silence and the wet smell of fog. If his herd was not in the sky and not in the Trap, then where could they be? Star galloped back to the place where Nightwing had blasted the huge hole through the thick canopy of branches.

The area was burned black. The shock of it had not left Star. He felt sick and dizzy, baffled and scared. Many steeds had died; the ashes told the story, but not all—Star held on to that hope: not all!

And where was Petalcloud’s army? Where were the Ice Warriors? He cantered toward the battleground where he’d last seen them. Petalcloud’s huge stallion, Stormtail, had almost killed Star there, but Star had sprang a shimmering golden shield around himself at the last moment. That memory was the only one that was good. Star had learned how to use a new power: a shield. It wouldn’t help him defeat the Destroyer, but it would help him defend himself. Star kicked at the bloody soil. Petalcloud’s army wasn’t here. Even his enemies had abandoned him.

“No,” he neighed. “I will find them, all of them.” He arched his neck and galloped forward. The hoofprints of Petalcloud’s army led straight to the River Herd camp, where his friends had been attacked. Star slid to a halt, certain now that Petalcloud and Nightwing were working together.

Nearby, Star spotted a single black flower. It looked exactly like the magical flowers that grew out of the soil when he cried, except for the color. Star gasped, realizing what it meant. The Destroyer had shed a tear. Someone had upset Nightwing, and Star took another sharp breath because he knew that pegasus had to be Morningleaf. Only she was fearless enough, or careless enough, to do it. Star closed his eyes. Nightwing would have blasted her for that—for making him cry.

Star staggered upright and bleated into the darkness, trotting in circles with his head down, sniffing for his friends Morningleaf, Silverlake, or Hazelwind, but all scents had been burned away.

He reared and leaped off the ground, through the gaping hole in the leaves. Nightwing could have taken his friends anywhere, in any direction. Star flapped hard, sending himself straight up, toward the jet streams in the heights. He would have to ride them if he was going to search the entire continent. Star’s heart raced as the horizon bowed and the land shrank. The air thinned, and he took deep, slow breaths. He flew in a spiral, unsure which way to go first—perhaps south, to Jungle Herd’s territory, which was Nightwing’s birthland, or west to the Snow Herd lands, where Petalcloud had trained her Ice Warriors.

Star suddenly halted, shocked. Below him a pegasi rocketed out of the mist, heading straight toward him with his ears flat and his legs tucked. It was a white stallion with pale-blue feathers edged in violet.

A survivor!

Star hovered, watching the stranger.

The stallion glared at him, and as he came closer, Star saw that one eye was brown and the other blue. He recoiled, stunned.

It was Frostfire—the malicious captain who’d formed the Black Army. He was Star’s worst enemy, next to Nightwing, and he was flying straight at him!