Luna Brightwood's Arc

Chapter 8 of 22

Luna watched the eastern sky lighten through the branches. The sleeping shape at the base of the tree had not moved in hours. But the fairy's lily would fail at sunrise, and when the beast woke it would wake angry. Luna sat with the eight glittered eggs in her lap and did the math. The ladder was on the platform. The trunk was smooth. She could not climb down before the light touched the roots. Lumina Dewsparkle landed on the rail. "She wakes with the sun," the fairy said. "You cannot be near the ground when she does." "Then I stay up here," Luna said. "But the eggs need to be off this platform. She smelled them last night. She will smell them again." The pale owl lifted from its perch and flew a slow loop above the courtyard. Luna followed its line and saw a figure step through the flowered arch below. A boy in a silver crown, white cloak, sword at his hip. He looked up at the tree, then at the sleeping beast in the roots. He did not draw the blade. He walked around the trunk once and stopped where the beast's head lay against the bark. "Drop the ladder," he called up. His voice was flat and low. "I will take the eggs. You stay in the tree." Lumina's wings flicked. "That is the prince," she whispered. "Silvain. He watches the ones being hunted. Something has been taking them when he looks away." Luna's hands tightened on the cloth. She had guarded these shells all night. She did not know this boy. But the owl had circled him without alarm, and the small dragon at her hip had not hissed. Luna lowered the ladder. The prince climbed halfway, stopped, and held out both hands. Luna passed the bundle down one egg at a time. He tucked each shell into the fold of his cloak. Eight pastel shapes, glitter catching the first gray light. When the last egg was in his cloak, he met her eyes. "Stay up until the unicorn comes for you," he said. "Do not climb down for any other reason." He descended, stepped past the sleeping beast, and walked back through the arch without looking behind him. The sun touched the top of the trunk. Below, the beast's tail twitched. Its clawed foot scraped a root. Luna pulled the ladder up fast and pressed flat to the boards. The beast lifted its head, sniffed the air where the eggs had been, and found nothing. It circled the tree twice, snarled at the smooth bark, and pushed off into the trees. The roots were empty. The courtyard was quiet. Luna sat back against the trunk. The eggs were gone from her lap, safe in the prince's cloak. She was still in the tree, alive, with her camera untouched at her chest. She waited for the pink unicorn to come back for her.