Moon's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

The mist thickened the deeper Moon went. It hung white and wet, and it swallowed the ground. She could see two steps ahead, no more. The tiger was a shape, then a shadow, then nothing. She heard his paws pad away and lost them under the roar of the falls. "Wait," she called. "I can't see you." No answer came. Moon stopped and listened. Water crashed on every side. The mist pressed her wet hair to her cheeks. She reached out and touched only cold air. Panic climbed her throat. If she lost the tiger, she lost her only guide to what had been taken from her. She thought fast. Her wings still buzzed at her back. Weak, yes, but not dead. Maybe the wind from her wings could push the mist aside. Moon planted her feet and beat her wings hard. The effort burned her shoulders. The mist swirled and thinned in front of her, opening a narrow tunnel of clear air. She saw wet stone, then a striped tail flicking ahead. The tiger had stopped to wait. "There you are," she breathed. She pressed forward, fanning her wings in short bursts. Each beat cleared a little more. The tiger led her past a huge stand of broad-leafed plants, their fronds dripping. He turned around them, and Moon followed the sound of his paws when the mist closed again. Then her wings gave out. They sagged, spent. The mist rolled back in and sealed her inside its white wall. Moon cried out and lunged where she had last seen the tail. Her hand caught warm fur. The tiger stood still and let her hold his back. He did not pull away. He waited until her grip was firm. Then he walked, slow, and Moon walked with him, blind but joined. She kept one hand buried in his fur and let him steer her through the roar. The ground rose. The mist began to glow. Not white now, but blue and pink and gold. Moon blinked. Light broke through the fog ahead. The tiger led her out of the mist and stopped. Before them stood a cluster of tall crystals. They rose from the wet rock, sharp and huge, taller than Moon. Their facets caught the falls' light and threw it back in bright colors. The mist could not reach here. The crystals burned it away. Moon let go of the tiger's fur. She stepped close to the shining stones and stared. Her bracelet warmed on her wrist, tugging, as if it knew this place. "This is what you wanted to show me," she said. The tiger sat and looked up at the crystals, then at her. Moon reached toward the nearest facet. Deep inside the stone, small and gold, something glinted back at her. Her breath caught. It was jewelry. And it was not the bracelet on her wrist.