17

THE DEN

STAR LOWERED HIS HEAD AND SQUEEZED INTO the wolf den. The soil was moist and cool, and smelled of dirt worms. His head scraped the ceiling, and loose mud chipped off and dropped onto him, sifting through his feathers and falling to the packed dirt floor. Hazelwind wrapped his wings around Bumblewind’s front legs and dragged him as gently as he could into the hole.

They entered a chamber shaped like a hoof. It was rounded on all sides except one, which was straight. Hazelwind slid Bumblewind’s sleeping body to a sidewall and positioned him so that his wings weren’t smashed under his body. Star stood, looking around, but the ceiling was too low for him to lift his head much higher than his shoulders. Otherwise, the four of them fit comfortably in the chamber, and several more pegasi would also fit.

“This is the main den,” explained Hazelwind. “Farther in there are two more lairs, which are connected by tunnels.”

Star squinted, adjusting to the dim light that illuminated the dust floating in the air, and he saw the tunnel that led out of the first chamber and to the next. “The dire wolves let you take their home?”

“Not exactly,” said Hazelwind, and Star squinted, noticing scratches and bite marks on the buckskin’s hide. “But there’s another benefit to living here. The stench of wolf masks our scent from Nightwing and his Ice Warriors.”

“You look tired,” said Star. Hazelwind had sagging wings and bleary eyes. It must have been difficult for him to steal and defend the den from those wolves, and then to dig it out. Star wished to restore him, and heal Bumblewind too, but he was positive that if he used his starfire here in the den, it would lead Nightwing directly to his friends’ lair.

Dewberry returned and entered the den with her wings full of herbs. Star remembered that her dam had been a medicine mare. She’d worked with Sweetroot in the Sun Herd lands before she’d died of illness herself, and Star guessed Dewberry must have picked up some healing knowledge. The pinto mare dropped the herbs and rushed to Bumblewind’s side. “You can’t let him sleep,” she scolded Hazelwind. “Not after a smack to the head.” She shook Bumblewind awake.

“Where am I?” the pinto asked.

“You’re safe in the den,” said Dewberry. She packed his wounds with a poultice she made from chewed-up yarrow plants.

“Is he going to be all right?” asked Hazelwind.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” she snapped.

Star sensed the fear lurking behind her outburst. “Let her work,” he said, drawing Hazelwind’s attention. “Where’s Morningleaf?”

“This way.”

Star followed Hazelwind into another tunnel, keeping his head low so as not to scrape it against the dirt above him. It was a short journey to the next chamber, which was empty. “She’s in the last chamber,” Hazelwind whispered, pointing to the final tunnel. Then he moved aside so Star could enter. “Brackentail is with her. They’re sleeping.”

Star tensed. He hadn’t thought much about Brackentail since Nightwing had stolen the pegasi in the Trap. He’d assumed the brown yearling was in the valley with the rest of the captured steeds, not here with Morningleaf. His heart sped a notch.

Star proceeded forward. The tunnels were dark, but each chamber had a ceiling hole that reached the air and light above, casting a stream of pale light. He walked through the short tunnel that opened into the last chamber. He stepped into it and halted, his feathers flexing and his heart racing. There was Morningleaf—curled in sleep against Brackentail, who had laid his head across her back and his orange wing over her ribs. Star’s stallion blood flared, causing his feathers to rattle, and the grip of icy shock froze his heart.

“Easy,” warned Hazelwind, who had followed behind him.

Star shook his head, trying to rid himself of the terrible feelings cycling from his head to his sharpened hooves. Brackentail had become Morningleaf’s trusted friend—he knew that. He’d accepted it. He just hated seeing it. He swallowed and spoke to her. “Morningleaf, I’m here.”

Morningleaf stretched and opened her eyes, sniffing the air. “Star!” She leaped to her hooves and slammed into him, thrusting her muzzle into his mane. “I knew you’d find us.”

He wrapped his wings around her, gripping her as tight as he could. Brackentail stirred and woke, and Star watched the big colt’s face brighten when he saw him. Star relaxed. Brackentail was his friend too, and he’d asked the colt to watch out for Morningleaf when they lived in the north. His jealousy was unfair.

“I’m sorry,” Star whispered into her mane. “I returned to the celebration in the Trap, and all of you were gone.”

Morningleaf stepped back from his embrace, and Star noticed the haunted look in her eyes. “I’m glad you weren’t there when Nightwing came,” she said, and she folded her wings across her back.

“Your feathers!” Star whinnied.

Morningleaf flinched. “Please don’t look at them.”

Star gaped at her, horrified and unable to stop staring. Her eyes welled with tears, and so did Star’s. “Nightwing did that to you?” he asked, but he knew it was Nightwing.

She squeezed her eyelids shut, and Brackentail rushed to her side. “It doesn’t hurt her . . . anymore,” he said.

The few sunrays that permeated the hole in the den’s ceiling spotlighted the damage to Morningleaf’s feathers. They were black and dry, and had curled into themselves, and her flight feathers were gone, burned to their roots. Only small patches of aqua color remained.

“She stood up to Nightwing,” explained Brackentail. “Rather than kill her, he . . . grounded her.”

Star had guessed it was Morningleaf who had made the Destroyer cry. He’d known it when he encountered the single black flower that had grown out of the ash-covered tundra in the north.

He stared at her ruined feathers, and fury boiled up from his belly and shot through his muscles. Nightwing had turned her into a dud. He’d punished her in the worst way, and for what? Star’s breathing quickened, and static charges fired across his black hide in small explosions of light.

“Please, Star. Calm down. This is our hiding place.”

Star slowed his breathing, lowered his wings, and let his eyes readjust to the dark. “Nightwing won’t get away with this,” he said, staring at her feathers.

“Let’s not talk about it, all right?” Morningleaf exhaled and leaned into Star’s chest, taking deep breaths of him. “I’ve missed you.”

Star felt an avalanche of tears threaten to break loose, but he held them back, thinking. Was it her devotion to him or his to her that was more dangerous? Nightwing only hurt Morningleaf because he knew that Star cared about her. She would never be safe as long as he was near her. Star gazed into her amber eyes, knowing she’d do anything for him, and that it would one day get her killed for real, but he also saw that she had no regrets.

Sadness washed over him as he realized that he’d have to stay away from her, to let her go, to let all his friends go if he hoped to fulfill his destiny and defeat Nightwing. He briefly closed his eyes. To accept his destiny meant trading away his own dreams. He would never be a regular pegasus, never grow old, and never die a mortal death. But if he freed the pegasi of Anok from the Destroyer, it would all be worth it.

“How did you find us?” Morningleaf asked, drawing him from his thoughts.

Hazelwind and Star exchanged a glance, and Star dreaded telling her that his uncle was here, but she would find out soon enough. “I had help,” he said. “From Frostfire.”

She jerked away, looking sick. “Frostfire?”

“He’s on our side.”

She snapped her blazing eyes to his. “Since when? How could you trust him after what he’s done?”

Star glanced at her ruined feathers and thought of all she’d suffered—struck by a deathblow, captured by Frostfire, broken in a jet stream, attacked by crocodiles, and now grounded by Nightwing—all of it because she was friends with him.

“I’m sorry,” he said to her. “I didn’t bring Frostfire here to hurt you, or remind you, but he did help me find you.”

Morningleaf met Star’s eyes and he held her gaze, willing her to trust him and not to be angry. After a long while she said, “I trust you, but I don’t trust him. I’m sorry. He lied to you once before, when he told you he’d protect me. Bringing him here—I think it’s a mistake.”

Star saw that it distressed Morningleaf to question his judgment openly, but he understood, and she was right. Frostfire had betrayed him in the north. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You’re right, but it’s too late. He’s here.”

Morningleaf set her jaw. “Keep your eye on him, Star.”

“I will,” he promised. “And there’s something else you need to know. Bumblewind is hurt.”

“How?”

“Frostfire and I found him and the others being attacked by those huge wolves. We helped drive them off, but Bumblewind hit his head pretty hard. We carried him back here.”

“These dire wolves are more aggressive than our wolves in the west,” said Morningleaf. “Let’s go see him.”

Star led her and Brackentail out of the sleeping chamber, and they followed Hazelwind to the large first chamber. There, Bumblewind’s reclining body took up a lot of space, so they all slouched against the dirt walls, watching him. Morningleaf and Frostfire avoided each other’s gaze. Dewberry spoke. “The dire wolves’ fangs just grazed him. It’s his head that’s the problem.” She snorted. “But that’s nothing new.”

No one reacted to her weak attempt at humor, and Dewberry’s expression quickly sobered as she continued. “We can’t let him fall asleep; that’s crucial. He’s confused, and he can’t remember the attack well. If his head clears tomorrow, I think he’ll be fine.”

“What attack?” asked Bumblewind, his eyes dull and swirling.

“See?” said Dewberry.

“This isn’t good,” said Star.

“I’m watching him closely.” Dewberry stood over Bumblewind, guarding him like a sentry, and Star saw the depth of her concern. She teased Bumblewind relentlessly, but if Star thought about it, the two were always together.

The pegasi slouched in the chamber, waiting for nightfall. Star’s eyes flicked continually to Morningleaf’s blackened feathers, and he had to drag away his stare. The den grew stuffy. “So what is Nightwing’s plan?” he asked his friends. “Is it to rule the herd he’s collected, or to harm them?”

“It’s both from what we can tell,” Hazelwind answered. “He’s separated out the weanlings. He and Petalcloud are training them to be Nightwing’s warriors.”

Star balked. “He took them from their mothers?”

Hazelwind nodded. “Since they eat grass now, they don’t need their dams for milk.”

“But—”

“It makes sense,” interrupted Morningleaf. “He’s getting them young and raising them to adore him. He gives them special privileges and keeps them from the elders, and from the stories of our past. They don’t know anything except what he wants them to know.”

“Is it working?” asked Star.

“It’s starting to,” said Brackentail. “The weanlings are the only ones allowed to fly. They love it. They aren’t afraid of Nightwing or Petalcloud.”

The pegasi in the den stood in silence for a long moment. Finally Star spoke. “And what about the rest of the pegasi, what are his plans for them?”

“We’re still figuring that out,” said Hazelwind.

Dewberry gestured toward Bumblewind. “Can you heal him, Star?”

“I can, but it could attract Nightwing to the den. If he’s not better by tomorrow, we can move him somewhere else and I’ll do it there.”

“I can hear you guys talking about me,” said Bumblewind. “I’m fine, just tired.”

Hazelwind flicked his tail, thinking. “If Nightwing can track you, can you track him? So we know where he is?”

Star’s ears drooped. “Sometimes I see Nightwing in visions, but I can’t control them.”

Hazelwind looked disappointed.

Star changed the subject. “We have several hours until dark. Please tell me what happened in the Trap.”

Hazelwind opened his mouth to speak, but then Morningleaf interrupted. “I’ll tell the story.” She began with Nightwing landing in the Trap, just after Star had left them to heal Larksong, and then continued with what had happened next.

Star listened intently, feeling guiltier for not being there the longer she spoke. But could he have stopped Nightwing? Probably not.

“So when did you arrive here?” he asked.

Brackentail answered. “Only four days ago. How about you?”

“Frostfire and I searched the territories first, and the coast, then we flew east. We found the herd yesterday.”

“You made good time,” commented Hazelwind.

“We rode the jet streams when we could.”

“Him too?” Morningleaf asked, pointing at Frostfire.

“Yes. I sheltered him in my shield.”

“Not a bad idea,” said Hazelwind.

“So what do we do now?” Star asked.

Hazelwind flared his wings, excited. “We have a plan, Star. The soil here is soft and loose, easy to dig through with our hooves and carry with our wings. We have an idea to construct a tunnel from this forest to the valley where Nightwing keeps the pegasi at night. We’ve already started working on it. Once it’s finished, we can smuggle steeds out of the herd in small numbers. We’ll free as many as we can before Nightwing notices.”

Star felt discouraged. “But where will the freed pegasi live? Nightwing will find them wherever they go.”

Hazelwind shifted. “They’ll leave Anok and cross the Dark Water. They’ll find a new home on the southern continent.”

“But what about the Landwalkers,” exclaimed Star. “They infest the neighboring lands.”

“True, but they can’t fly. They aren’t as dangerous as Nightwing.”

Star had heard stories about the Landwalkers from the elders. They controlled the soil, caused food to grow where they willed, made slaves of wolves and horses, and cut down forests. Besides that, they were skilled hunters. It was said they fed on bears, moose, sharks, and other large creatures. Star thought they were at least as dangerous as Nightwing. “And what about the steeds who don’t escape?”

Hazelwind locked eyes with him. “The point is to rescue as many as we can, so that the pegasi will live on, if not in Anok, then somewhere. This way you can fight Nightwing, and it will be . . . less devastating if you lose. We just need you to wait. Don’t attack him . . . or let him attack you, until we have enough pegasi gone from Anok to start a new herd.”

Star sighed. “No pegasus will truly be safe as long as Nightwing is alive. The fear of him will poison the herds no matter where they live—like it has for four hundred years. It’s time to be rid of him for good.”

Morningleaf moved across the chamber and pressed against him, laying her cheek on his neck. “This is your destiny, Star.”

He nuzzled her. “Then I cannot fail.” He felt her heart pulse against his chest. Star believed her destiny was to lead a new herd, a free herd, and the feeling washed over him like ocean waves, in cold, rolling bursts. And for the first time he feared that his destiny and Morningleaf’s destiny might be different, that their futures might be lived not together, but apart.