34

THE TRIBUTE

STAR SOARED OVER THE VALLEY OF PEGASI, hunting for the Destroyer. Below him he saw the collapsed tunnel. It appeared as a long, jagged rip in the green grass, leading from the pond toward the forest in the south. The Wind Herd steeds huddled in their separate groups, confused and with their necks craned, calling to herdmates across the valley, whinnying for news.

Star flew low, just as the clouds parted and the hot sun lit the valley, casting his shadow across Wind Herd. They looked up at him, and their rumblings ceased. Star saw Sweetroot and Silverlake and all the rest who had not left the valley. The sight of Star gliding overhead calmed their panic. We’ve come a long way, he thought, remembering the days when a glimpse of him caused terror.

Star hovered over the heads of the Wind Herd guards. “Where’s Nightwing,” he trumpeted. He saw no sign of Morningleaf.

The Ice Warriors cast their eyes toward Petalcloud, who had flown to the hill next to the tribute and stood alone.

She glanced at the sky, her eyes triumphant.

Then another shadow passed by the sun, shading the stone tribute and then angling toward Star. It was Nightwing. He circled the valley, his eyes focused on Wind Herd. He opened his mouth and scorched the grass with silver fire. The pegasi galloped toward the woods.

“Hold steady,” Star neighed to them, pitching his voice so low his words vibrated their ribs. Only over-stallions spoke this way, and the twelve thousand steeds halted, instantly responding to his authority and standing at attention, ready for his next command. Star sighed, realizing he couldn’t change the inherent nature of pegasi. They responded to strength and power, and this kept order in their massive herds, but it was also their greatest weakness when that power was abused.

Star whirled, facing Nightwing. It was time to rid Anok, and the Beyond, of the Destroyer; and it was time for Star to rise to what he believed was his true destiny. It wasn’t to unite or conquer the herds, or to heal or destroy the pegasi; it was to defend them. Frostfire had been right about that much. “Set Wind Herd free,” Star commanded. “Let them go.”

Nightwing glided toward him and hovered, his wings creating wind that blew back Star’s forelock. Nightwing nickered, and sparks popped between his teeth. “Here we are again,” he said. His eyes turned from brown to silver as he opened his mouth and blasted Star with his fire.

Star sprang his shield. The starfire split around it, unable to touch him. Star watched the clouds drift by, waiting until the black stallion shut his mouth. When he did, Star retracted his shield, unharmed. “Let them go.” he repeated, keeping his voice calm and steady.

Nightwing roared and dived toward the pegasi in the valley. Screaming erupted as they stampeded, and Nightwing unhinged his jaws to blast them.

Star tucked his wings and tore after Nightwing, flying under him and then darting upward and ramming him in the belly. Nightwing spun across the sky, then fell, slamming into the grass and skidding across it. He rolled to his hooves, his chest frothing. “Anok is mine!” he neighed.

“Anok is theirs,” Star answered. He landed and faced the dark stallion. They circled each other, heads low, ears pinned. Star willed Nightwing to attack him. If Frostfire was correct, Star’s defenses would multiply in strength.

As if sensing a trap, Nightwing closed his wings. “I don’t have to fight you,” he said.

Star’s hot blood turned cold. What did that mean?

Triumph blazed in Nightwing’s eyes. “I have her.”

He was talking about Morningleaf, and Star’s feeling of dread returned.

Nightwing nodded toward the woods, his expression smug.

Star followed his gaze. Frostfire emerged from the woods followed by two Ice Warriors who had Morningleaf in their grasp. They dragged her by her newly healed wings as she thrashed, trying to get free.

Star bolted toward her.

At Frostfire’s command, an Ice Warrior twisted her left wing. Morningleaf shrieked as the small end bones snapped.

Sweat erupted between Star’s ears and he halted, choking on the air as though he were drowning. “Let her go,” he whinnied to Frostfire, his eyes pleading.

Guilt washed over his uncle’s face, but he gave a small shake of his head. He had chosen sides.

Star turned to Nightwing, begging him. “Please. This is between us.” His heart thudded so hard he thought it would break through his rib cage.

“You can challenge me and lose her, or submit to me and save her,” Nightwing neighed, his voice floating across the valley. “It’s your choice.”

Star blinked rapidly, trying to think. The pegasi of Anok stared at him, waiting. He held their fate and Morningleaf’s in his wings.

Morningleaf’s eyes bored into his, willing him not to save her, to save the herd instead. How had it all come back to this, a choice between saving one or all? It was a repeat of the night he’d received his power: when Frostfire had Morningleaf gripped tight in his jaws, and Rockwing had offered to spare her life for Star’s. He’d chosen to save her, and then she’d thrown herself into the path of the deathblow meant for him. And she’d died anyway.

Star’s feelings twisted, making him dizzy. If Star let Nightwing execute him to save Morningleaf, none of her sacrifices, none of her bravery, and none of her faith would equal anything. He returned her gaze. Understanding flashed between them. Star would save the herd. Morningleaf would have to save herself.

The pegasi in the valley, Petalcloud, Frostfire, and the Ice Warriors—they all quieted, waiting for his decision.

Star arched his proud neck, flexed the powerful muscles he’d developed building the tribute, and stood to his full height, shadowing Nightwing. “I challenge you,” he said, and then he brayed the battle cry of an over-stallion over the valley until it echoed from the land to the stars.

Surprise flickered across Nightwing’s face.

Star drew his golden starfire and shot it throughout his body and into the sky like an erupting volcano. His power healed the damage he’d endured building the tribute. As the pegasi watched, Star’s battered hooves turned smooth, his dull hide glowed black, and his tattered feathers lengthened into glossy plumage.

The pegasi in the valley cried out as one, in an ear-jarring cheer for Star. They rattled their feathers and grouped into the formation of an army—all of them—down to the elders and the walkers. They splayed their wings, and ferocious energy blazed through them.

Nightwing shook his head as though he didn’t believe his ears. “Break her wings and drop her from the clouds,” he ordered.

The two Ice Warriors darted into the sky, with Morningleaf dangling between them.

“No!” whinnied Silverlake. She and Redfire and their friends rocketed after Morningleaf.

But Star kept his eyes trained on Nightwing, even as his heart broke into a thousand pieces for Morningleaf. “You will never win this,” Star said; then he lifted off and glided to the top of the tribute. All eyes followed him.

Star found the special feather he’d tucked into the rocks—a long and beautiful flight feather that was golden in color, with a dark-brown tip. It still smelled of his friend. Star lifted the feather over his head and trumpeted across the valley and the grassland, his voice carrying for miles and miles. “For Bumblewind!” he brayed.

Sweetroot trotted forward and raised her wing over her head. “For Bumblewind!” she whinnied.

Behind Sweetroot, the nearly twelve thousand pegasi all raised one wing over their heads and repeated her words. “For Bumblewind!” And Star’s heart pounded at the sight of them spread across the green valley, their bright feathers fluttering in the wind, crying out the name of their fallen friend.

Nightwing choked on his silver fire and whirled, facing Star. “What is this? Are you mocking me?” he neighed.

“This is freedom,” Star answered.

Then the nearly twelve thousand pegasi lifted off, in battle formation, and swarmed Nightwing’s army of Ice Warriors.