Lunaria Willowbloom's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

Lunaria lay still on the cold coins. Her heartbloom rested an arm's reach away, glowing pink and gold on its bed of treasure. She had no light left, no petal, no way to fly. But the flower was right there. If she could only touch it, its power might wake her wings again. She fixed her eyes on it and began to crawl. Her arms shook. She dragged herself over gold, one hand at a time. A coin slipped and clinked. Fireball's tail twitched. Lunaria froze, chest pressed flat, and waited. The dragon breathed on, deep and slow. She crawled again. The heat off his red scales beat against her back. Sweat ran down her face. She reached the edge of the bloom's bed and stretched out her fingers. She touched a petal. Warmth ran up her arm, small but real. Her wings stirred. She grabbed the flower's stem and pulled. It did not move. Its roots had grown deep into the piled gold, twisting between the coins like a vine. She braced her feet and heaved. The heartbloom held fast. She had no strength to tear it free. Lunaria bit her lip and thought. She could not carry the whole flower. But she did not need the whole flower. She needed its power. She reached up and closed her hand around a single petal. She pulled. It came loose with a soft snap, warm and heavy in her palm. Light spilled from the petal into her hands. Her wings flared bright, brighter than they had glowed in days. Strength poured through her legs. She could fly now. She could escape. The snap had been small. But the dragon's eyes opened. Yellow, wide, fixed on her glowing wings. "Thief," Fireball growled. Smoke curled from his nose. He rose from the hoard, coins sliding off his back. "You touched my sweetest thing." Lunaria did not answer. She shot up off the treasure, the petal clutched to her chest. Fire roared past her wing. She dove sideways and darted for the mouth of the lair. The dragon lunged, jaws snapping shut where she had been. She flew low, fast, out into the open air. Cold wind hit her face. She was free of the lair. But she looked back and saw the whole flower still glowing inside, held tight in the roots of his gold, guarded now by a wide-awake dragon. She had only one petal. Its warmth would fade like the last one had. She had escaped with a scrap of her own power and left the true prize behind. She flew down the mountain while she still could. She would have to find another way in. And Fireball would be waiting.