Luna Brightwood's Arc

Chapter 10 of 22

Luna stayed on the wet stones with the camera in her lap. Six frames of frost blooms. Two of the horned cat. And somewhere beyond the towers, eight dragon eggs she had handed to a stranger before dawn. She had no way to reach him. She did not know where he had taken them. If they hatched and she was not there, she lost a thing no one had ever put on film. She looked up at Lumina Dewsparkle, who hovered above the fallen petals. "The prince," Luna said. "The one who took the eggs. How do I find him?" The fairy folded her wings behind her. "He does not stay in one place when a hunt is on. But he told me where he was taking them. He asked me to bring you when the courtyard was done." Luna stood too fast. Mud pulled at her boots. "Take me now." Lumina lifted a hand. A soft chime moved through the air. The pink unicorn stepped out from under the arch, gold wings half open, rainbow mane damp from the thaw. Luna climbed onto its back. The purple dragon settled on her shoulder. The pale owl landed on the unicorn's neck. They rose over the towers and cut across the wet trees. Luna held the camera against her chest and watched the ground blur. They came down in a clearing she had never seen. A small white hut stood in the middle of it, wrapped in a bubble of pale light that shimmered like a soap film. Prince Silvain waited at the door with his sword still at his hip. He did not smile. "You came in time," he said. He stepped aside and let her in. Inside, on the floor, sat a wide nest woven from braided cloth in every color. Eight eggs lay in it, pastel shells shot through with glitter, each one painted with a tiny unicorn. One shell had a hairline crack running from top to base. Luna knelt. She set the camera on the floor and checked the light through the shimmering wall. It was soft and even. She lifted the camera and framed the cracked egg first. Click. A pink shell split open under the lens. A wet horn pushed through. She shot the second frame, then the third. A second egg cracked. Then a third. She moved around the nest on her knees, changing angle, changing focus, catching each hatchling as it broke free. Prince Silvain stood by the door and watched the clearing outside. He did not turn his head once. When the eighth egg opened, Luna lowered the camera. Eight small unicorns lay in the braided nest, wet and blinking, horns no longer than her thumb. She had every frame. Prince Silvain spoke without looking at her. "Something followed you here. It knows the hut now." He drew the sword an inch and let it drop back. "You cannot leave the field until I know what it is."