Luna Brightwood's Arc

Chapter 20 of 22

The ground sloped down through the pines. Luna kept one hand on a pink mane and one on a white. The eight small unicorns pressed close, but their steps were shorter now. Two of them stumbled over a root. Silvana walked at the rear, watching the trail behind. Silvain slowed and looked at the herd. "They won't make another hour," he said. "We need a place. Now." Luna scanned the trees. Nothing but more trees. "I don't know where we are." "Neither do I," Silvain said. "I know what's chasing us. That's all." He glanced at the silver wyrm gliding above the branches. Its gold and black wings caught the low light. Fire trailed from its jaws in a thin white line. "She knows this stretch better than I do." He raised one hand. The wyrm dipped, banked, and swept ahead through a gap in the pines. It called back once, low and clear. They followed. The unicorns kept up because the wyrm's light pulled them forward. Silvana closed the gap at Luna's shoulder. "She's leading us somewhere," the elf said. "I don't know where." She kept her eyes on the trees. "But she isn't guessing." Luna nodded and clicked her tongue at the smallest unicorn, the one with pearl-toned wings, who kept lagging. The pines opened. A round clearing spread in front of them, ringed by old stone. In the center stood a small gold farmhouse. A clear dome arched over it, faint blue lines running along the surface like water. A wooden stair climbed to a narrow porch. Beside the stair sat a polished silver box, open at the top, packed with hay and grass and cut fruit. An orange had rolled onto the moss. The wyrm landed on the roof and folded its wings. Luna stopped at the edge of the dome. She put a hand against it. The surface was warm and firm and gave nothing. "It's sealed." "It opens for them," Silvain said. He nodded at the unicorns. The nearest one walked past Luna's knee, straight through the dome as if it were open air, and climbed the stair. The others followed, one by one. The smallest paused at the box, lipped a piece of apple, then went up. When the last white tail passed through, the dome closed behind it, whole again. Luna pressed her palm to the surface. It held. Inside, the eight unicorns were already lying down on the porch boards. Silvain sheathed his sword. "They're safe here. The wyrm will stay." He looked at Luna and Silvana. "We can't go in. Only they can." Luna lowered the camera case strap off her shoulder and set it against a stone. Her hands were empty for the first time in a day. Behind the dome, the wyrm's fire pulsed once against the gold roof, steady, and did not go out.