Page 16 of Eggsactly the Right Gargoyle

“Gold. The same color as my eyes.” I help her clear away some of the dead vines. “For Luetha, they were green.”

“And for others?”

“It varied. Blue for those with water affinities, red for fire, purple for air, or brown for earth. The flowers recognized magical signatures.”

Talia runs her fingers along the arch, her brow wrinkled in concentration. “There’s still magic here. Dormant but present.” She closes her eyes, and her hands begin to glow with golden light. “May I try something?”

I nod, stepping back to give her space. She places both hands on the arch, channeling her solar magic into the stone. Thegolden light spreads from her fingers, seeping into the cracks and crevices of the ancient structure.

“The flowers that grew here... What were they called?”

“Lumina blossoms. They’re extinct now, as far as I know.”

She nods, her eyelids still closed. “I can feel their memory in the stone. Their pattern and their essence.” Her magic pulses brighter. “I think I can wake them.”

I watch, fascinated, as her magic works through the arch. The thorny vines begin to shift, their sharp points softening, their woody stems becoming green and supple. Tiny buds appear along the vines, swelling rapidly.

“It’s working,” I say, amazed.

Talia’s face is a mask of concentration. She opens her eyes, looking at me. “I need your magic too, Dorian. They need the balance of sun and stone.”

I hesitate but place my hands on the arch beside hers. My guardian magic stirs, rusty from disuse but still present. Golden-orange energy flows from my palms, merging with Talia’s sunlight magic. The combination creates a new color—a warm, rich amber that spreads through the entire arch.

Something extraordinary happens. The arch begins to pulse with light, and something small and round rolls out from the base of the arch, coming to rest at our feet.

“Is that...” Talia kneels down, peering at the object.

“Another egg,” I confirm, kneeling beside her.

This egg is different from the others. This one is smaller, with a shell that seems to be made of tightly wound vines rather than the smooth surface of the previous eggs. As we watch, the vine-like shell begins to unravel, peeling back to reveal what’s inside.

A tiny green shoot emerges, unfurling delicate leaves no bigger than my fingernail. The shoot grows rapidly, stretching upward as it develops more leaves and a slender stem. Withinmoments, it’s the size of a small sapling, reaching its vines outward.

“It’s a baby Lumina plant,” I say, recognizing the distinctive leaf pattern. “I haven’t seen one in a century.”

The vine continues to grow, extending toward us. Before either of us can react, it separates into two tendrils, wrapping one gently around Talia’s wrist, and the other around mine. The touch is cool and soft, like a living ribbon.

“Oh.” She gasps, not in fear but in surprise. “It’s communicating.”

I feel it too, a gentle presence in my mind that’s curious and innocent. The vine seedling is sentient, aware in the way all magical plants in the grove once were. I’d suppressed that, trying to block out the past when I’d insisted plants can’t talk, but it’s coming back to me now. “It’s greeting us,” I say softly. “Recognizing us as its...parents, in a way. Our combined magic created the conditions for it to hatch.”

The vine remains wrapped around our wrists for a moment longer, its presence warm in our minds before it gently releases us, returning to its place at the base of the arch. It plants its roots in the soil there, settling in as if it has found its home.

“Did we just...have a plant baby?” Talia asks, her voice caught between amusement and wonder.

I laugh. “I think we did.”

As the plant grows, buds start to emerge. They’re still tiny, like our plant baby, but they tremble then burst open all at once. Flowers the size of peas unfurl their petals, creating glowing blossoms a shade between gold and orange, exactly matching the color of our combined magic.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispers.

“They’re responding to both of us. I’ve never seen them this color before.”

We stand together, hands on the arch, magic flowing between us, as the Lumina blossoms continue to bloom while the vine grows larger and travels along the entire structure, starting to wind around it. The Lumina’s presence wakes up the slumbering thorned bushes, and the thorns start to retreat as an array of blossoms appear in pastel shades.

“We did it.” Her voice is filled with wonder. “We woke them up, It was both of us. The flowers needed both our magics—sun and stone, growth and protection. Balance.”

Balance. Luetha’s final words echo in my mind.Find balance, my love.

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