WINDBORN
After a while another span of blackened grass caught Star’s eye. He dropped to the forest floor and pawed at it—more ashes. He lifted off and continued searching, discovering more spots of singed ground. Nightwing had been thorough, finding hiding pegasi and destroying them. Star flew back to Frostfire, who was standing now. “There are no survivors here,” he said. “I think you’re right,” said Frostfire, his eyes round and white rimmed. “What has Nightwing gained by doing this?” Star’s anger ignited, and he arched his neck. “Don’t you see? He’s killing all rivals and rebels—anyone who won’t follow him. He wants to rule Anok, and it was only days ago that you were helping him. Have you forgotten that you formed the Black Army to hunt me down and take my head? Because I haven’t.” Star’s voice sizzled, low and quiet, like hot embers. Frostfire took a step away from him, blinking rapidly as he stuttered for words. “I—I know what I did . . .” He trailed off. Star advanced on him, swishing his tail. “And now that he’s turned on your friends, now you change your mind about him? Well, it’s too late.” Star swept his wing across Valley Field, and then he trotted away from Frostfire as 55
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