Luna Brightwood's Arc

Chapter 2 of 22

Luna woke in the white cabin to the sound of dripping. She stepped outside with her camera bag and found the porch boards dark with water. Overnight the air had turned warm. The frost trails she had mapped up the ridge were softening into mud, and her next subject, a horned white cat that left tracks only on frozen ground, would vanish with them. She had one morning to reach it. The purple dragon crawled out of her pack and sniffed the wet air. The pale owl watched from the eave, feathers flat against the damp. Luna spread her map on the porch and traced the ridge line. The direct route crossed a long meadow already turning to slush. She would sink to her knees before she covered half of it. She needed to move light and stay above the softest ground. She pulled a thin white cape from her gear box, a piece she carried for hides and cold shoots. She tied it tight so it would not drag. Then she pointed at the map and looked at the owl. The bird lifted off and circled once, then flew north along the tree line, away from the meadow. The dragon chirped and followed. Luna ran after them. The owl led her along a spine of rock the thaw had not yet touched. The stone held her weight. She moved fast, camera braced against her ribs, the cape trailing behind her like fog. Twice the dragon dropped to sniff a patch of ground and shook its head, and she stepped wide around it. Below, the meadow steamed. Water pooled in every low place. If she had crossed it she would still be down there, stuck. At the top of the spine, the owl banked and settled on a bare branch. Luna crouched. In a clearing below stood a small white cat with silver and pink horns, its pink tail curled around its paws. It was licking meltwater from a stone. Luna eased the camera up. The cape hid the shape of her shoulders. She took the first shot before the cat lifted its head, a second when it did, and a third as it turned to leave. The horns caught the light clean. She lowered the camera. Her hands were shaking. Somewhere past the clearing, through a gap in the pines, she saw pale towers rising above the trees, white stone streaked with pink in the wet light. She had not known anything like it stood this deep in the woods. She lifted the camera again and took one frame of it, just to prove she had seen it. The dragon landed on her shoulder. The owl called once from the branch above. Luna capped the lens and looked at the towers through the gap. Six wonders left on her list. She had just found a seventh no one had told her about.