15

GRIEF

STAR OPENED HIS EYES, GROANING, HIS HEAD throbbing. He stood up and stroked his forehead with his wing. He was standing alone in a field of grass. It was morning, still early. Bugs crawled through his mane, and sweat drenched his hide. “Frostfire?” he called.

The white stallion trotted into his line of sight, looking unharmed.

“What happened?”

“We crashed,” said Frostfire. “You hit the ground pretty hard. I landed on top of you, so you took the worst of it.”

Star tossed his mane at the buzzing flies and quickly regretted it. The painful throbbing increased, pounding his brain like surf against the shore. Star squinted at the bright sunlight. The heavy clouds were gone, and the rain had dried on the grass. A memory tugged at his thoughts, something Nightwing had said—something Star didn’t want to remember. “How long was I out?”

“The rest of yesterday and all night.”

Star flinched. “What’s happened since then?”

“Nothing, really,” replied Frostfire. “I’ve been spying on the herd. The pegasi live in that valley we saw, but they travel out to the Flatlands each morning to graze. Petalcloud’s Ice Warriors guard them.”

Star’s body ached with bruises, and he quickly sent his starfire through to heal his wounds. His tension unwound, but when he was finished, his head still hurt. That was unusual. “I’m going back,” he said, spreading his wings. “I’m going to end this now.”

“Wait!” Frostfire moved closer. “Remember what I said. Nightwing has to attack you first. He will draw out your strength, but if you rush this, you’ll lose.”

“But he knows I have the shield, so he’s not going to attack me. He said we’re free to leave.” Bitterness choked Star’s words. “How do I fight that?”

Frostfire rubbed his eyes with his wings. “I don’t know, let me think about it. But I do know that charging blindly at him isn’t tactical, Star. Think about it; we have twelve thousand allies in that valley.” Frostfire’s mismatched eyes glimmered as he pointed toward the herd of pegasi. “The reason Nightwing didn’t attack you is because he doesn’t know how to beat you either. This is good. It gives us time to make a plan.”

Star lowered his wings.

Frostfire interpreted his gesture as acceptance and continued. “We need to establish contact with the herd, to organize them, and we’ll need several spies to watch Nightwing and . . . my mother. Who do you suggest?”

Star’s first thought was Hazelwind, but he hadn’t seen the buckskin stallion in the valley. “Silverlake for sure,” he said. “And the Desert Herd stallion I met in the Trap, Redfire.”

“And what about spies?”

“Silverlake and Redfire can choose the spies.” But Star knew that Echofrost and Shadepebble would volunteer.

“All right. Let’s get out of the open,” suggested Frostfire. “The cottonwood forest on the southern end of the valley is a good place to watch the herd without being too obvious.”

The two took off and whisked over the grass, skirting the edge of the valley. The wind blasted across the plains, buffeting them. Star squinted against it.

“I already can’t stand this wind,” grumbled Frostfire. Their loose feathers detached and swirled behind them. He glanced at Star, looking worried. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I think so,” said Star, but his heart twitched. What was he missing? What had he forgotten?

They reached the grassy cottonwood forest and landed. Star’s wounded head thumped harder when his hooves touched the ground. He glanced around him, noticing the trees were spread wide. “There’s not much cover here.”

“The forest thickens that way.” Frostfire pointed farther south with his wing.

Star slumped against a tall elm tree, feeling dizzy from the pain in his head. He sent starfire there and waited, but the pain did not cease.

“What’s wrong?” asked Frostfire.

“It’s my head,” said Star. “It hurts, and I can’t heal it.”

Frostfire halted, peering at him. “You didn’t land on your head, Star. You’re not injured there.”

“Then why does it hurt so bad?”

“My head hurt for a long time after my mother gave me away.” He trotted closer. “I think it’s grief causing your pain.”

“Grief over what?”

Frostfire stiffened. “You don’t remember what Nightwing told you? About Morningleaf?”

The image of Morningleaf’s bright blaze, warm eyes, and aqua feathers blazed across Star’s mind, and in an instant, he remembered. “Oh no,” he whispered.

“Nightwing said she drowned herself.”

“He’s lying. She wouldn’t do that.” Star held his head in his wings. Or would she? Star imagined her amber eyes, shining with devotion, and he remembered when she threw herself in front of the deathblow meant for him, and the time she rode a jet stream to save her brother, knowing she wouldn’t survive it, and the time she’d used herself as bait to lure the Black Army and the Ice Warriors away from Star’s body when he was injured. Star reared back, shaking his heavy black mane. Oh, she might! She might drown herself if she thought it would help him.

Star landed from rearing and stood, trembling from ears to tail. All the confidence he’d earned as a warrior in the Trap was gone. He was a shell of a stallion—a husk of a pegasus. One more blow and he would disintegrate into a thousand tiny pieces and drift away with the rushing winds of the Flatlands.

The excited growl of a wolf broke the silence. Star’s head snapped up, and he pricked his ears forward.

Beside him, Frostfire flared his wings. More growling came from the woods. “It’s a pack,” he said quietly. “They’re hunting something.”

Star twisted his ears and caught the low rumble of hoofbeats and the snarling of the wolves. They were chasing something hooved, like deer or horses, or maybe buffalo. Star’s heart fired with hot energy. “I’m saving them,” he neighed.

“Saving who?” cried Frostfire.

“Whatever creature those wolves are about to kill.” Star galloped and lifted off the ground, flying through the trees.

Frostfire followed, angry. “Don’t risk a fight with wolves, Star. They’re just hunting.”

“I don’t care.” Star pinned his ears, his veins pulsing with blood and starfire, his fury driving him faster.

“I know what you’re doing,” whinnied Frostfire. “Your friend is dead, so you’re going to save some animal since you can’t save her. It’s a waste of your energy.”

Star pinned his ears. “I’m doing it anyway!” But maybe Frostfire was right. Maybe because he couldn’t save Morningleaf, he would save a deer or a horse. Maybe he was going crazy, but his need to protect the poor creature consumed him like fire.

Star rocketed into the depths of the forest, neck flat, following the low growls of the wolves and the panicked breaths of the prey. A patch of gray fur flashed between the trees. He was catching up to them.

A sharp snarl and piercing squeals erupted. The wolves had cornered their victim. Star knew he had only seconds to stop the attack. He narrowed his wings and jetted forward, dodging branches. Ahead was a tumble of hooves and fur and gnashing teeth. Four gigantic wolves had their quarry pinned to the ground. Colorful feathers exploded around them, and Star reeled.

These weren’t deer or horses.

They were pegasi.