Luna Brightwood's Arc

Chapter 5 of 22

Luna stepped back through the flowered arch with her camera against her hip. The sky had shifted while she stood in the courtyard. The green and violet bands were darker now, and the light between the towers had gone thin. She had a return invitation for tomorrow, but tomorrow was hours away, and she was standing in open stone with no roof and no plan. Her dress was thin. Her camera body was cold in her hand. She could not sleep on wet marble with the lens exposed to dew. The small winged one had not left. She sat on top of a fallen column now, swinging her bare feet. "You're still here," she said. "I don't know where to go," Luna said. "It's getting dark. I have my camera. I can't let it get wet." The purple dragon on her shoulder pressed closer to her neck. The pale owl clicked its beak once from a broken ledge above. Luna looked at the small one directly. "Is there anywhere near here I can wait until morning? I won't touch anything. I won't lift the lens." The small one studied her for a long moment. Then she hopped down and pointed past the arch, toward a bare white tree Luna had noticed before. A wooden platform sat in its upper branches. A ladder leaned against the trunk. "That's a watch perch," the small one said. "Dry boards. Roof of leaves. You can sit there. Not sleep hard. Just sit. Your bird and your lizard can stay with you. Don't come down until light." Luna crossed to the tree. She tested the ladder with one hand. It held. She climbed with the camera strap tight across her chest and the dragon clinging to her collar. The owl flew up ahead of her and settled on the platform edge. At the top she found rough planks, dry, wide enough to sit on with her knees drawn up. She tucked the camera under the fold of her dress to keep the dew off the lens. Below, movement caught her eye. A pink shape stepped out from between two columns into the last of the light. Gold wings. A gold horn. A mane in bands of color. The unicorn walked slow across the courtyard stones, lifted its head toward the tree, and looked at Luna directly. Luna kept her hands on her knees. She did not touch the camera. The unicorn watched her a moment longer, then walked on and disappeared behind a wall. Luna let her breath out. The dragon curled in her lap. The owl faced outward, eyes open. She had shelter. She had her camera dry. She had seen a creature she was not allowed to photograph, and she had kept her hands still. Tomorrow the small one would come back for her. Tonight she only had to sit, and wait, and not reach for the shot.