18

WIND HERD

AFTER THE SUN SET, STAR, HAZELWIND, AND Morningleaf slipped out of the den to visit the tunnel that the hiding pegasi had already begun to dig. Brackentail and Dewberry stayed behind to watch Bumblewind and keep him awake. The evening air was moist and cloying, reminding Star of the jungle. Crickets and frogs chirped in an incessant rhythm, and Star had never seen so many flying bugs. He tossed his mane and lashed his tail, but the insects became entangled in his hair and harassed him worse. “How do you stand it?” he whispered, brushing a throng of mosquitoes away from Morningleaf.

She nickered. “Dewberry has plant oil that she rubs down our backs. It doesn’t keep them entirely away, but it stops them from landing on us. I’ll make sure you get some when we return.”

Frostfire trotted up behind them. “Where are you going?”

Morningleaf halted and whirled around, flaring her charred wings. “You can’t come,” she said.

Frostfire pinned his ears, and the two stared at each other, their history raging between them.

Star intervened. “Why don’t you guard the entrance to the den, Frostfire? If the wolves come back, Dewberry will need your help.”

Frostfire tore his eyes from Morningleaf and nodded curtly at Star, accepting his post as sentry.

The group trotted away, and as they left, Star noticed that Morningleaf carried her wings at an awkward angle, as though they were painful to her. He wanted to heal her, and his golden starfire flamed, ready to obey.

Guessing at his intentions, Morningleaf said, “Not here, Star. We’re too close to the den, and please stop staring at my feathers.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

Star turned his eyes away, remembering their time in the Trap when they were hiding from Nightwing with the foreign herds. Then, Star had noticed many young stallions staring at Morningleaf, especially at her bright-aqua feathers and her fluffy flaxen tail. Whenever she caught them staring, she’d face them, and her challenging gaze had melted their brazenness, but when she trotted off—they returned to staring. One time Star had said to her, “They’re still watching you, you know.”

“I know,” she’d said with a playful snort. “I can feel their eyes.”

But now Star’s glances upset her because her feathers were ruined. Hatred for Nightwing blazed, but Star squashed his bad feelings, knowing they were dangerous.

Hazelwind pranced ahead. “We’re almost at the tunnel,” he whispered. “We take a different route each night so we don’t wear down a trail. Echofrost or Shadepebble will meet us there; they’re our spies.”

A few stars dotted the black sky, and the moon was a crescent, shedding a pale glow. Star smelled rain and the distant scent of buffalo. Cottonwood, ash, and elm trees stretched above him, and the singing of insects filled his ears. The interior of Anok had a beauty of its own, despite the wolves and bugs.

Suddenly Hazelwind disappeared. Star halted, and Morningleaf bumped into him. “Where did he go?” Star asked.

She nickered softly. “Follow me.” She skirted around him, and then she too disappeared.

Perplexed, Star advanced slowly, his nostrils flared. He traced Morningleaf’s scent to a blind of leaves and branches, woven like a nest but creating three walls and a ceiling that hid them from view. Star understood right away. His friends had found a way to create camouflage.

“Come inside,” said Hazelwind.

Star entered the shelter.

“We’ve begun digging the tunnel here,” said Hazelwind, indicating a large hole in the ground that was partially covered by a woven band of tree branches. “And from this wall here, we can see the valley.” Hazelwind pointed to the north wall. “Take a look.”

Hazelwind moved aside, and Star placed his eye against the back wall, peering through a gap in the branches. The huge valley was spread before him, filled with pegasi. He balked, whispering, “I didn’t realize we were so close.”

“We’re as close as we dare get,” said Hazelwind. “Nightwing doesn’t allow the pegasi into the forest. He keeps them in the open, where he and the Ice Warriors can see if anyone tries to escape. When his patrols fly overhead, they can’t spot us through the tree branches Morningleaf wove.”

Star examined the interlocking branches. When they’d lived in the Trap, the Mountain Herd mares had woven baskets to keep their birds’ eggs safe and warm for eating. Morningleaf had asked to learn the technique, but the mares had said no. “Didn’t the Mountain Herd mares refuse to teach you this?” he asked.

Morningleaf lifted her head. “They did, but I took one of their baskets and unraveled it. I studied the patterns they used, and I copied them. It took a few days, but I figured it out. It’s not hard once you understand it.”

Star whistled softly. “I doubt I could have made sense of it,” he said.

Hazelwind nodded. “I still can’t figure it out.”

“You two just don’t have any patience,” she nickered, but Star knew that wasn’t it. He didn’t see patterns like she did. He couldn’t count as high or as quickly either.

Star returned to watching Nightwing’s herd in the valley. The light was dim, but it didn’t take long for him to realize that the steeds were sectioned into groups that didn’t look natural. He pricked his ears, trying to sort it out.

Morningleaf sensed his confusion. “Nightwing’s sorted the pegasi. The northern end is for the elders. The northeast side is for warriors; the southeast is for yearlings; the west is for nonwarriors; and the southern end, closest to us, is for the mares and foals. Each section is further divided by gender. See? All the mares and stallions are apart and are not permitted to speak to each other.”

Star gasped. “Not permitted?”

Morningleaf nodded. “They can’t do anything without permission, not even drink from the lake. Petalcloud’s Ice Warriors guard the groups. By keeping the pegasi separate, it’s easier for Nightwing to control them. Only on the open plain, during the day, are they allowed to be together.”

Star examined the valley, seeing that all she said was true. The proud pegasi of Anok stood where they were told, with their heads hanging low. Some grazed, others stared vacantly as though dead. Thick-bodied white and gray Ice Warriors patrolled them, prancing with arched necks, looking for trouble. Their long hair flashed in the moonlight as they moved. He saw Stormtail, the granite-colored stallion who’d delivered the deathblow to him, only to have it blocked when Star sprang his shield for the first time.

And there was Petalcloud, trotting in her flowing gait toward the weanlings. The youngsters huddled together, watching her, and she took her time, greeting each one with soft nickers. She preened their bright feathers, mothering each foal, and one by one they relaxed. Star felt sick to his stomach watching it.

“She’s winning them over,” he said, his throat tight with anger.

“Don’t lose heart. We have a plan, Star,” Morningleaf reminded him. “This tunnel is the answer.” She slid the branches away from the hole. “We take turns digging out the soil with our hooves, and then scooping the dirt in our wings and carrying it to our dump sites. It’s going to take a long time to reach the valley, but through this tunnel, we’ll be able to move a group of pegasi away from Nightwing and out of Anok.”

A sudden shadow crossed the moon, darkening the blind. “Don’t move,” rasped Hazelwind. Star looked up through the leaves and saw an Ice Warrior soaring overhead, patrolling.

When he was gone, Star let out his breath. “He didn’t see us.”

“That was Graystone,” said Hazelwind. “He’s one of the few Ice Warriors who’s on our side. When it’s his turn to patrol the forest, he lets our spies out to visit us, which means one of them is on her way here now.”

Star listened closely and caught the sound of gentle hoofbeats. His heart raced with excitement at the thought of reuniting with another friend. Soon the pegasus ducked into the blind of leaves.

Star nickered with pleasure—it was Echofrost.

“Star! You’re here,” she said in a fast breath, like she didn’t believe it.

He greeted her, nuzzling her white mane. Then he glanced at the sky. “How do you know you can trust this Graystone?”

“Not all the Ice Warriors are under Petalcloud’s spell,” she explained. “Some hate what’s happening as much as we do, but they can’t speak up, or stop it. If they do, they’ll be killed, but they help us when they can. Graystone doesn’t know exactly what we’re doing here, and he doesn’t ask, but he knows there are rebels hiding in the woods.”

Rebels, thought Star. It seemed a strong word for a tiny group of pegasi who were just trying to . . . what? Save the herds from an ancient destroyer? He swished his tail. Yes, maybe rebels was the right term.

“Have any other pegasi escaped?” Star asked. “Besides your group?”

Echofrost sagged. “Oh, many have left, but none made it far. They’re all dead, killed by Nightwing or the Ice Warriors. No one has tried to escape recently.”

Hazelwind fluffed his feathers, changing the subject. “Give us your report.”

Echofrost groaned, and Star saw how much she regretted the news she was about to give. “It’s about the walkers,” she said.

Star pricked his ears. “How are there walkers in the valley if Nightwing made you all fly here?”

“Most were carried by their families, and some were injured along the way and can no longer fly,” said Echofrost. “Anyway, Nightwing plans to execute them at sunrise.”

Star choked on his tongue. “He—he can’t.”

“He can, and he is. He says he doesn’t have enough Ice Warriors to protect them, and since they can’t get off the ground when the dire wolves are hunting, it’s for their own good.” Echofrost grimaced, her voice bitter. “Everything Nightwing does is for our own good: separating us, controlling us, rationing us. Aren’t we fortunate.”

Star’s thoughts reeled. “How will he do it?”

“He’ll line them up and burn them. That’s what he does to any pegasi he catches misbehaving.”

“But they aren’t misbehaving,” cried Star. “They’re just . . . different.”

Echofrost gave him a helpless stare. “He killed an elder because she stepped on a rock and damaged her hoof. He called her injury a ‘burden.’”

The pegasi stood in silence, each drained by the conversation. Finally Hazelwind spoke. “And Petalcloud is okay with this? As lead mare, she’s in charge of the foals and elders, and most of the walkers are elders.”

Echofrost snorted. “She doesn’t care, and most of the Ice Warriors don’t care. They seem to get nastier each day.”

Hazelwind nudged Echofrost with his muzzle. “If there’s no other news, you should get back. We’ll work on the tunnel.”

“There’s one more thing,” she said. “Nightwing has given us a name. We’re Wind Herd.”

Hazelwind nodded. “That’s a good sign. It means he’s making a permanent home here. It gives us time to dig. Thank you, Echofrost.”

The silver yearling nodded and slipped out of the blind.

Star’s head spun with all he’d heard. He’d been a walker once—dragging his huge, malformed wings around for most of his first year of life. He’d migrated by hoof with the Sun Herd walkers, who were lead by Grasswing. He was a mighty warrior who’d treated Star like his own colt. Anger stormed his heart. He couldn’t let Nightwing execute the innocent.

“I know what you’re thinking,” whispered Morningleaf.

Star avoided her eyes. “No you don’t.”

“Star, we have a plan. Don’t veer from it.”

Star stomped the dirt. “But the tunnel isn’t ready, and the walkers will be killed at sunrise.”

“What’s going on?” asked Hazelwind, coming closer and peering at Star and Morningleaf.

“He’s going to try and stop the execution tomorrow.” Morningleaf lifted her chin, daring Star to deny it.

“There are hundreds of walkers and duds in that herd.” Star paused, letting the heft of the number settle on his friends. “I know you need time to dig the tunnel, and I won’t ruin your plan, but murdering innocent walkers? I can’t let it happen. Not while I breathe air.” Star’s muscles twitched as he wrangled his feelings.

Hazelwind interrupted. “The night is slipping away. We need to start digging. Don’t ruin this, Star. Please.” Hazelwind walked into the tunnel and began scraping dirt with his front hooves.

Star’s attention diverted to their task. “Digging this tunnel all the way to the valley will take many moons,” he said. “What if Nightwing moves the herd?”

Morningleaf lashed her tail. “We have to try, Star, and I don’t think he’ll move them. He’s claimed this territory and named the herd, and over-stallions hate wandering. It’s why everyone thought you’d claim the Sun Herd lands when you grew up. It’s odd for a herd to wander, but it’s not odd for one this size to stay put.”

“I guess so,” said Star.

Morningleaf nickered. “Will you help us?”

“Of course.”

Morningleaf kept watch while the stallions took turns digging. Then she helped them remove the piles of fresh dirt and spread it to hide it. They each took short breaks to drink from a clear creek that was nearby and swarming with small, brown fish. The work was hard, but it kept Star busy while his mind raced with ideas. How could he save the walkers without ruining Morningleaf’s plans?

Just before dawn they returned to the den. Bumblewind was awake and doing well, but he still couldn’t remember the dire wolves or hitting his head. Hazelwind and Morningleaf retreated to the third lair to sleep. Frostfire stayed outside.

“Is that you, Star?” Bumblewind asked when Star entered his chamber.

“Yes. I’m here.” Star dropped his head and nuzzled his friend.

Bumblewind’s powerful muscles relaxed. “I knew you’d come.” He gazed at Star with his warm brown eyes. “Warriors don’t give up on each other.”

“Not ever,” Star agreed. He glanced outside the den at the brightening morning sky. “I have something I have to do, but I’ll come back soon.” Star turned to leave.

“Watch out for the wolves,” warned Bumblewind. “Dewberry said they attacked me.”

Star glanced at Bumblewind’s bite marks. “I see that.” Star nodded to Dewberry and whispered, “Are you sure he’s going to be all right?”

Dewberry tugged gently on Bumblewind’s tail, her eyes glittering. “He’s fine; he made it through the night. It’ll take more than a few gigantic wolves to get rid of this yearling.”

Star saw Bumblewind was in good care. “I’ll watch out for wolves,” he promised Bumblewind, and then he stepped outside.

Brackentail followed him. “It’s almost dawn. Where are you going?”

Star turned and faced him. “I’m going to save the walkers,” he whispered. The horizon took on a hazy glow.

Frostfire, who was still guarding the entrance to the den, heard them talking and trotted closer. “Take me with you,” he said. “No one wants me here.”

Brackentail pinned his ears at the white stallion who’d once broken his orange wing at the root, but he looked at Star. “Take me too.”

Star tossed his long, black forelock out of his eyes, staring at his two friends who’d each once been his enemies. “If this doesn’t end well for me, it won’t end well for you two either.”

Frostfire snorted. “If this doesn’t end well for you, it won’t end well for any of us.” He turned to the brown yearling. “But you should stay behind, Brackentail. Nightwing already knows I’m here—he saw me with Star—but he doesn’t know about you. You’re supposed to be dead like Morningleaf—you can’t risk being spotted.”

“That’s true,” agreed Brackentail, looking dejected.

Star noticed Brackentail’s tight muscles and pinned ears. Frostfire was causing his friends nothing but distress. “I’ll take you with me, Frostfire.”

“Saving the walkers is a dangerous idea,” warned Brackentail, looking from one to the other. “If we lose you, Star . . .”

Brackentail didn’t finish the sentence, and Star faced him. “Just focus on that tunnel, no matter what happens to me.” Star lowered his neck and pressed his forehead against Brackentail’s. His breath hitched as he spoke. “And take care of Morningleaf . . . if I don’t come back.”

“I will,” Brackentail promised.

Star turned and flew toward the valley, followed by Frostfire. He had to save the walkers. It would tear his soul to shreds if he didn’t. As he flew away, he realized something awful: he hadn’t yet healed Morningleaf’s aqua feathers. “I’ll come back,” he whispered over his shoulder. “I promise.”