25
STARFROST
STAR COASTED ACROSS THE FOOTHILLS, RETURNING to Frostfire, and landed beside the white stallion. “I’m back,” he muttered.
Frostfire heard him but couldn’t see him. “I don’t like talking to you when you’re invisible, Star.”
“Sorry.” He retracted his power.
His uncle studied him. “Why don’t you look happy, Star? What’s wrong? Is it the tunnel?”
Star plunked onto his haunches in the snow, mentally exhausted by his visit. He glanced up the hill to the tribute. “No, I think they’ve made more progress than I have.”
“So what’s wrong with you then? You were as excited as a spring filly before you left.”
Star shrugged his wings. He didn’t want to explain what was wrong with him.
Frostfire pawed the snow, crunching it under his hoof. “All right, don’t tell me.”
“Was it quiet here?” Star asked, glancing at the heavy layer of clouds.
Frostfire’s eyes shifted quickly toward the valley, but he didn’t answer. That’s when Star noticed the hoofprints. They were small and didn’t belong to him or Frostfire. “You had a visitor,” Star said, pointing at the prints.
“It was Larksong,” the stallion admitted.
Star bristled. “We’re banished, Frostfire. We aren’t allowed visitors.”
The white stallion erupted. “You saw your friends!”
“That’s different. I—” Star stopped. It wasn’t different. He’d also taken a risk. “What did she say? Does she have news from the valley?”
“Yes, she’s afraid for our foal, for all the coming foals. She thinks Nightwing and Petalcloud will steal them.” The stallion paced, his anxiety building.
“Look,” said Star, stopping Frostfire with his wings. “They might take the newborns when they come, I don’t disagree, but they can’t do it until they’re fully weaned. By then the tunnel will be finished, and I spoke to Hazelwind tonight. Larksong will be the first steed out.”
“He said that?”
“He did.”
“What if he was lying?”
Star jerked up his head. “He wouldn’t do that. He would just tell me no.”
“It’s that simple, is it?” said Frostfire with a huff, and Star remembered how easily the captain had lied to him in the past. How could he convince his uncle that he and his friends were different, that they were trustworthy?
But Frostfire’s throbbing pulse slowed, and his wings relaxed. “I have no choice but to continue to rely on you,” said Frostfire. “Don’t let me down.”
“I won’t.”
“Larksong told me the name of our colt,” he said, changing the subject. “She’s going to call him Starfrost, after you and me.”
Star blinked, letting the name settle into his heart—Starfrost. He and this colt shared the same grandsire, Iceriver, and this colt would carry Star’s name, Star’s blood. They would be cousins. He turned his face away, hiding the tears that threatened to fall. “Why would Larksong do that?” Star asked. The mare had been part of the Black Army that had tried to kill Star.
“It’s obvious, don’t you think? You saved her and our colt’s life in the Trap when you could have let them die.”
Star turned to his uncle. “And you still don’t trust me?”
Frostfire stiffened. “I don’t trust your friends.”
The two stallions fell into silence for a long while, and they dug at the snow, hunting for grass to eat. Star’s thoughts ventured to his adoptive mother, Silverlake. Now that he could turn invisible, he could visit her too.
“I’m going to visit the valley. I need to speak to Silverlake.” Star exhaled, and his breath curled like smoke in the cold air. “The herd is depressed. I want them to know this won’t go on forever.”
Forever . . . the word bounced through Star’s mind like a falling rock, reminding him that he was immortal and Morningleaf was not. It wasn’t a concept he’d thought much about until he inherited the starfire, but could anything really last forever? Star shook off his thoughts. “It’s almost dawn,” he said to Frostfire. “I’ll visit Wind Herd tomorrow night. Why don’t you sleep for a bit?”
Frostfire peered at Star, curious. “Tell me what happened at the den, Star. Does it have to do with Morningleaf?”
“Nothing happened,” Star snapped. His loud denial shattered the winter hush.
Frostfire spread his wings, looking innocent. “I pressed; you flinched.”
“What?”
“It’s how we find injuries on our warriors. We press on them until they react.”
Star’s head was so full he didn’t understand what Frostfire was getting at, so he ignored him, shooing him off.
Frostfire strolled away but said, “You sleep, Star. You’ll feel better if you do.”
Star sank into the snow, right where he sat, not caring about finding his shallow bed. I don’t need sleep, he thought, closing his eyes.