20

LETTING GO

MORNINGLEAF WOKE IN THE COOL DEPTHS OF the den. Brackentail had slipped into the chamber and fallen asleep next to her. His warm breath blew against her singed feathers, making them rise and fall. His ears twitched and his eyelids fluttered—he was dreaming.

She stretched, being careful not to wake him. The bright splotch of sunshine that streamed from the hole above her head indicated that it was near the middle of the day. They normally slept until dusk. What had awakened her? And where was Star?

The sound of whispering sifted gently through the silence, and she recognized the soft voices of Bumblewind and Dewberry. Morningleaf slipped out of the lair and crept through the center chamber where Hazelwind was sleeping. She followed the tunnel to the den’s first chamber and entered, yawning.

Bumblewind glanced at her with startled eyes. “Why are you awake?”

“That’s an odd question. I can be awake if I want.” She peered at her two friends, who looked guilty. “Why? What’s going on?”

They looked at each other, arguing with their eyes as they often did. Morningleaf realized Star was missing, and her belly twisted. “Where’s Star and Frostfire?” Before they could answer, she knew where they’d gone. “They went to save the walkers, didn’t they?”

“We couldn’t stop them,” said Dewberry.

Morningleaf’s eyes burned, and her throat tightened. She stood for a moment, her wings trembling, and then she charged out of the den and galloped toward the blind that overlooked the valley.

“Morningleaf!” Dewberry grunted, and sped after her.

Morningleaf flattened her neck and galloped faster.

But Dewberry was older and stronger. She caught up to Morningleaf and snatched her tail in her teeth, tugging hard to stop her.

“Let go!” Morningleaf squealed, kicking Dewberry in the chest. The mare released her, and Morningleaf resumed her gallop toward the blind.

Dewberry lifted off, flying just over her head. “Get back to the den,” she snapped. “Now.”

“No,” whinnied Morningleaf. “I have to know what happened to Star.”

“But it’s daylight! It’s not safe.”

“I don’t care.”

Morningleaf reached the hiding place, out of breath, and skidded inside.

Dewberry followed and bit Morningleaf’s mane, yanking out some hair.

Morningleaf whirled on her. “Why did you do that?”

Dewberry nipped Morningleaf again, hard, like an angry dam.

Morningleaf snapped her jaws, but Dewberry’s dark eyes hardened to stone. “Don’t try it, filly.”

Morningleaf closed her mouth and rubbed the top of her neck with her wing, which throbbed from the bite. “What’s your problem?”

“You,” huffed Dewberry, pointing behind them. “You tore out of the den without scenting for wolves, without checking the sky, and without telling us where you were going. Are you trying to get us all killed, or just yourself?”

“But Star—”

Dewberry stamped her hoof. “Star left the den without telling you for a reason, Morningleaf. Did you consider that? He didn’t want you to stop him or follow him.”

“Why?” asked Morningleaf, trying to catch her breath.

“Because of stuff like this,” said Dewberry. “When it comes to Star, you don’t think about anyone else, or yourself.” Dewberry folded her ruffled wings. “You take too many chances.”

Morningleaf tossed back her flaxen mane. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about everything you’ve done,” rasped Dewberry. “Baiting armies, flying in jet streams, galloping through a wolf-infested forest by yourself. Do you expect Star to drop everything and save you?”

“Of course not,” said Morningleaf, tears forming in her eyes.

Dewberry continued. “Did you ever stop to think that you’re putting Star in danger too? He can’t focus on Nightwing if he’s got to run after you and save your life. It’s why he left you behind. He’s not the dud foal you grew up with, Morningleaf. He can take care of himself.”

Morningleaf exhaled as if the mare had kicked her.

Dewberry leaned toward her. “Let Star go so he can become who he is meant to be.”

The two friends faced each other, panting, their eyes shining. Dewberry had said too much, pushed Morningleaf too far, but the fierce mare did not back down. Morningleaf’s thoughts swirled madly, leaving her confused and sad. Was she holding Star back?

Dewberry softened. “You don’t see him the way we do, but I wish you would. His love for you will destroy him one day, if you don’t release him of it.” She stroked Morningleaf’s mane. “He’ll throw us all away for you. Running off and putting yourself in danger will only distract him from his purpose, and it will probably get you killed. Let him go.”

Morningleaf staggered toward the nearest tree and leaned against it. Her throat closed, and she couldn’t breathe. She dropped her head and sucked at the hot air, drinking in bugs and dust and coughing terribly. Dewberry stood near, watching. Morningleaf’s knees gave way, and she sank into the soil. She knew Dewberry was right, but her heart was breaking. “How?” she wheezed. “How could I do something like that?”

Dewberry sank down next to her. “I don’t know how, but I know you must.”

The two mares pressed their foreheads together. Morningleaf sobbed, feeling lost.

“Echofrost’s dam told me your story when we were living in the Trap,” said Dewberry. “That Silverlake forced your birth early so she’d have milk for Star, and that you tried to protect him from the mean foals like Brackentail. And I saw you take the deathblow that was meant for Star, and I watched him bring you back to life. You’ve lived for him and through him since your first breath of life, but you have to understand that maybe you have your own destiny.”

Morningleaf squinted. “I take care of Star; that’s what I’ve always done.”

Dewberry shook her head. “And you’ve done it well, but he doesn’t need you anymore.”

Morningleaf took a deep, shuddering breath, and her wretched tears subsided. The two lay quietly in the shade for a long time.

Dewberry eventually stood. “Since we’re here now, you might as well peek at the valley and see what happened to him.”

Morningleaf sighed. “No. You look.”

Dewberry peered out of the blind and then turned back to Morningleaf. “He’s alive, and so is Frostfire.”

“What about the walkers? Did Nightwing execute them?”

“Nope. They’re fine. It appears Star and Nightwing have made an arrangement.”

Morningleaf grit her teeth. “How so?”

“The walkers have been let go, and Star is . . . well, he’s stacking rocks on a hill.”

“That makes no sense.”

Dewberry shrugged. “Nothing Star does makes sense to me. If I had that starfire . . .” Dewberry trailed off, her eyes bright with her imagined conquests. She blinked. “Anyway, Echofrost or Shadepebble will explain it to us later. Let’s get back to the den before Hazelwind comes after us.”

Before leaving the blind, they sniffed for wolves and checked the sky. When they were sure the way was clear, they returned to the den—but they returned to madness. Brackentail and Hazelwind were prancing in the first chamber, wild eyed and pawing the soil, their bodies shaking and their lungs wheezing.

“What happened?” asked Morningleaf.

Hazelwind trembled; his eyes were swollen with tears. “It’s Bumblewind.”

“What?” cried Dewberry.

“He’s dead.”