6

JET STREAM

STAR BLINKED INTO THE RISING SUN, LETTING THE pale rays warm his black feathers. Northern butterflies fluttered around his hooves as he shuffled through the moss, and he briefly envied the simplicity of their lives. He turned his gaze toward the blue sky. He and Frostfire would travel south by jet stream today. They were on Nightwing’s trail, he was sure of it, but they kept missing him. “Are you ready to go?” he asked Frostfire, who was grazing on lichen.

“Yes, I’m ready,” said Frostfire, but Star saw his pulse quicken as he took a deep, steadying breath.

Neither stallion had ridden a jet stream before, but Star had seen Morningleaf fall out of one. She’d plunged toward land faster than he’d thought possible. The force of the fall had snapped her wing bones and shredded her feathers. Star had caught her in a beam of golden starfire and healed her ruined wings, otherwise she would have died. Even the fearless ancient stallion Spiderwing, the founder of the five herds, was known to be afraid of jet streams, so Star understood Frostfire’s thrumming heart—it matched his own.

Star stepped next to Frostfire and projected his shield, the gold-tinged orb stretched to fit around them both. They kicked off in tandem and surged toward the clouds. Nothing could penetrate Star’s shield, not even the damp white mist of the heights. The two stallions emerged above it with dry hides and feathers. Star looked down and saw the land contract as the sky expanded. A quick flash of fur drew his gaze to the tundra below. “Look, an ice tiger,” he neighed.

Frostfire glanced at the cat. “I can’t wait to be rid of this place.”

Star watched the black-striped tiger glide toward the river; her fat paws leaving deep prints in the moss. She lapped at the water and washed her face. Even from their high altitude, Star saw that her fur was covered in blood from a fresh kill. She sat on her haunches and looked up at them, attracted, Star guessed, by the shine of the bubble and the flapping of their wings. When they reached the jet stream, they would leave the north behind, possibly forever. Star’s heart clenched; he’d grown fond of the north, even with all its dangers and horrible weather and massive predators, because it was wildly beautiful too.

Star pushed higher, until the river was a tiny blue vein and the tiger had disappeared. Forceful winds buffeted the shield, but Star and Frostfire flew untouched by the currents. Frostfire breathed easily and marveled at it. “I’ve never flown so high,” he whinnied. The atmosphere inside the sphere was warm and pleasant.

“Look,” said Star. “The land is curved, not flat.”

They pumped their wings, flying higher, until they reached the altitude of the jet streams.

“How do we find the southern one?” asked Star. The fast-traveling currents were invisible to the eye.

Frostfire gaped at him. “I don’t know. I thought you knew.”

“How would I know? I’ve never actually flown in a jet stream.”

“Neither have I,” whinnied Frostfire.

Star rattled his feathers, furious at himself. His mission to rescue his herd was off to a terrible start. “The shield is blocking me from feeling the direction of the air currents,” he whinnied to Frostfire. “I’m going to have to release it until we find the southwestern stream.”

“But I can’t breathe up here.”

“Then hold your breath!” Star withdrew the starfire, and the bubble evaporated. Shrill, freezing winds swarmed around them, and the two stallions tightened their wings to their bodies, struggling to stay parallel to the land. In seconds their muscles were quivering from the cold, but the radiation from the sun pricked their sensitive ears and muzzles. Star braced against the biting rays. He had only minutes to find the jet stream before Frostfire passed out. “Stay close to me!”

Star floundered through the crosscurrents, looking for the powerful wake that indicated a jet stream.

Frostfire flapped hard, his body stiff and his eyes leaking tears. Star felt the seconds burning away. He paddled through the currents like he was swimming through water. Far below his hooves, the clouds drifted in fat puffs, and he could see the entire expanse of the north, all the way to where the land ended at the Great Sea. The higher Star flew, the larger the planet appeared. Somewhere down below were his friends, captives of Nightwing. He glanced east, but a distant mountain range obscured his view of inland Anok. Star shook his head—focus!

He glanced at Frostfire. The white stallion’s eyes bulged, and he kicked at the sky, beginning to convulse. Star soared higher, his eyes mere slits against the piercing sun. A strong, fast wake shoved him aside. He’d found a jet stream, but it was flowing north.

Star shook his head at Frostfire, duck-dived under the current, and popped up on the other side. Frostfire followed, but the effort cost him the last of his reserves. His eyes rolled back, and his wings stalled.

Star felt the tug of another powerful current, this one flowing south.

Frostfire lost momentum and began to drop.

Star would lose the current if he saved Frostfire.

The white stallion’s mouth fell slack, and his body jerked from lack of oxygen. His eyelids fluttered shut.

Star gave up the jet stream, pinned his wings, and plunged after Frostfire. The stallion fell like a stone through the clouds. Star raced toward him, piercing the crosscurrents, his eyes watering and his lips flapping against his teeth. He caught up to Frostfire, spread his wings, and sprang his shield around them both. Now they were connected, but falling faster. Star turned his nose toward the sun and pumped his massive wings. He slowed their descent and then managed to drag them back to their previous altitude. The orb of starfire had its own atmosphere of fresh-flowing oxygen, and Frostfire’s eyes fluttered open. “You saved me,” he said, sounding surprised.

Star bit back his frustration. Why were the pegasi shocked when he did exactly what he promised to do? He ignored Frostfire’s comment. “I found the current, but then I lost it. We’re going to have to take our chances on finding it again. It’s not safe for you if I retract the shield.”

Frostfire snorted agreement.

Star flew on, trying to remember the exact altitude of the southern jet stream. Seconds later, he and Frostfire were sucked into a ripping current. “Ack!” Star cried, and Frostfire screamed. The current hurtled them south and sent their orb spinning in violent circles. Snatches of blue and white and brown colors tumbled past in a blur. Star drew in his wings, having no idea how to stop the rolling.

Frostfire flung out his wingtips and rotated against the direction of their spin; his movements were agile and quick, and he soon gained control of the sphere, which was just large enough to encase them both comfortably, as long as they flew side by side.

“How’d you do that?” Star asked once they were stable.

“I learned how to control spins in flight school,” said Frostfire.

The clouds zoomed past them as they rode the rapid current south. “I’ll watch the land to the west, and you watch the land to the east for the pegasi.”

They reached the Blue Mountains and flew until almost sunset, and then Frostfire whinnied. “I see something!”

Star followed his eyes, and what he saw jolted his heart. At the southern end of Mountain Herd’s territory, in a meadow called Valley Field, was a huge expanse of black, charred grass.

“Nightwing’s been here,” said Frostfire, his voice flat.

Star’s pulse quickened. “Let’s go see if he still is.”