A fire crackled quietly in the hearth, sending flickering warmth across the polished obsidian floor and high-backed velvet chairs.

  Daphne stood near the window, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the storm clouds beyond the garden hedge. “She’s been gone for five hours.”

  Harry, slouched on the couch with a cup of steaming tea in his hands, gnced over. “It’s Luna. Five hours isn’t even the record. Remember the time she vanished for a whole day and came back with that weird holy sword?”

  “That was different,” Daphne muttered. “She told us she was going to do that. This time she just… we wake up and she’s not in bed with us.”

  Harry winced slightly, lowering his cup. “Yeah, I noticed. I rolled over and just found a feather. Definitely not a good sign.”

  Daphne turned from the window, her eyes narrowing. “Not just any feather, Harry. A silver-tipped alicorn primarie. That’s the kind she only sheds when she’s either casting major divine magic or making terrible life choices.”

  Harry held up a finger. “Or both. Usually both.”

  She marched over to the firepce and picked up the note again from the mantel. “And this cryptic nonsense? ‘Don’t follow me. I love you both. Keep the tea warm.’ That’s not a goodbye. That’s a Luna warning bel.”

  Harry frowned, setting his tea aside. “So, you tracked the teleportation circle to the Vatican, right? Do you think she is actually there?”

  Daphne hesitated. “Harry… What if she is doing something stupid?”

  He gave her a reassuring smile. “Then we do what we always do. We follow the chaos, talk down the divine entity, and drag our girlfriend home before she ends up a cautionary tale in a stained-gss window.”

  “…Again.”

  He nodded. “Again… Well according to her, she doent actually know if her sister made those windows just that she usuall liked doing so.”

  Daphne groaned. “I hate that whole older sister mess… We are going to have to find a way to talk to her eventually..”

  Harry was already sketching the first runes. “At least we’re consistent.”

  She moved to grab the teleport gear from a drawer, muttering, “We’re going to need holy water, a distraction spell, and probably a very apologetic letter to the Pope.”

  “Already halfway written,” Harry said brightly tapping his temple.

  ==

  The halls of the Vatican Museum were filled with quiet awe, tourists murmuring reverently as they shuffled along behind the velvet ropes and multilingual tour guides. Cameras clicked. Footsteps echoed. And at the center of one particur tour group, Luna stood politely with her hands folded behind her back and a wide, innocent smile on her face.

  She was still wearing her oversized hoodie and sungsses, looking more like an eccentric exchange student than an immortal alicorn goddess.

  “…and this here,” the guide was saying in English with a lilting Italian accent, “is one of the oldest known depictions of Saint Michael the Archangel. Notice the fming sword—very symbolic of divine judgment, no?”

  Luna leaned toward the older woman standing next to her, whispering, “That sword is actually based on an earlier Etruscan artifact. The archangel just copied the aesthetic.”

  The woman blinked. “Excuse me?”

  Luna smiled sweetly. “Nothing. Please continue, signora tour guide.”

  The guide moved them along, oblivious. “Now we enter the Hall of Maps, where—”

  Luna paused as they passed a series of marble statues. She tilted her head, then stopped in front of a massive sculpture of an angel standing atop a defeated demon.

  “Oh. That’s not what he looked like,” she said softly to herself.

  Someone behind her cleared their throat.

  She turned—and locked eyes with a young priest, standing off to the side. His eyes were wide. His hand trembled where it clutched a rosary. And most notably… it was like he could see her aura.

  “Oh dear,” Luna whispered. “You’re magically sensitive, aren’t you?”

  He crossed himself. “You’re… what are you?”

  Luna unfurles her wings magically hiding it from the mundane the darkish white but not fully grey pair set off enough magical energy to alert everyone who was trained for it nearby.

  “You’re an Angle?” The young priest mutters in awe.

  “I get that a lot,” she replied with a shrug.

  Suddenly, several arms—subtle and divine in nature—began to chime beneath the Vatican stones. Wards fred in faint gold along the ceiling.

  Luna gnced up, sighed, and whispered to herself, “Alright. You’ve had your fun. Now behave.”

  The wards… calmed. The arms flickered out.

  The priest just stared.

  Luna adjusted her sungsses. “Tour continues, yes?”

  The guide, still unaware, turned back toward the group. “Ah! Please do not g behind, everyone!”

  Luna smiled and fell into step behind her, whispering again to the stunned priest as she passed, “Don’t worry. I just came to look. And maybe to borrow a book. I’ll put it back.”

  She winked.

  The priest fainted.

  Luna hummed to herself as she drifted down an impossibly long corridor beneath the Apostolic Pace, her feet not quite touching the marble floor. She moved with the casual air of someone who knew exactly where she was going… and wasn’t worried in the slightest that she shouldn’t be there.

  Behind her, a locked door sat quietly unlocked. The wards had peeled away like mist under her moonlight.

  She paused in front of a sealed chamber marked with Latin runes and the papal crest. Tilting her head, Luna reached out and tapped the air. The runes shivered, recognizing something older than themselves.

  The door opened with a loud creak.

  Inside, the chamber was dimly lit by floating candles. Ancient tomes lined the walls, scrolls sealed in crystal cases. The Vatican Secret Archives.

  Luna strolled in, taking in the smell of ink, leather, and starlight caught in paper.

  She ran her fingers across a row of books and murmured, “Let’s see… forbidden celestial genealogy, alternate Eucharistic rituals, ah—here we go. ‘Instructions on Otherworldy Travel “Equestria” ’