For the second time in a single day, Micah found himself wearing clothes with which he was not accustomed in the slightest. Standing by the fountain in the middle of a now busy town square, he waited for Charlotte, and meanwhile wondered at the strange events that transpired to lead him to where he now found himself.

  At least I’m wearing black again.

  He looked down at his attire for the hundredth time, feeling like a fish out of water despite so many similar-dressed people all around him. His clothes were new, purchased only hours ago. Sleek black robes with gray trim and broad sleeves. While he felt uneasy about them, he had to admit they looked nice, complementing his chest and shoulders, as the woman who sold them to him assured they would. It featured a slip for his sword, but he decided to leave his weapons behind at the church. He also purchased sandals, which he’d never worn before, but was told were a must. While his mask was back in place, a black broach with three long raven feathers adorned the side of his head. And after much debate that caused him considerable consternation, he decided to forgo wearing gloves in the hope Charlotte would approve. As a result, his hands, feet and neck were exposed in public for the first time in his life.

  It was disconcerting to say the least.

  Even so, he had to admit he was looking forward to the night of cheer. Hundreds of people happily wandered the central square of St. Meran, which dazzled from the incredible preparations for the Harvest Festival. The lights previously strung were now bedecked with garlands, and stands had been erected everywhere he looked, featuring games or festival fare of mouthwatering smell and quality. The theme was the Paywee fruit, as the carnival was a celebration of the crop. There were Paywee jugglers and Paywee sellers. And stands selling wine and pie and ice cream and novelty decorations made from Paywee cores and seeds. Extending down every adjoining street, it truly was a fantastically imagined carnival, full of laughter and carefree frivolity.

  But despite the relaxed environment and interesting amusements to be experienced, what Micah most looked forward to was enjoying them all with Charlotte. While he stayed in town, she went back to the church after purchasing her own robes. She said she would get a ride back to town with some of the ladies from the church she had befriended while eating breakfast that morning. So now he awaited her arrival by the fountain, as they agreed upon before she departed.

  She was late, which didn’t surprise him in the least since she was never on time for anything. Even so, he found the wait uncomfortable. Why, he didn’t know. Twilight was quickly fading into nighttime, and the air accumulated a bit of a chill, though nothing uncomfortable. He began considering whether or not he should look for her when he heard her voice over the grate of wheels and the plod of horses.

  “Micah!”

  He turned and watched as the church’s wagon came toward the fountain, loaded with a dozen women chattering excitedly. Charlotte sat on the edge, smiling brightly. His breath held as she gracefully dropped down and joined him.

  “How do I look?” she asked. Her smile became a hopeful one.

  Micah swallowed hard. Charlotte’s robes complemented her every delicate curve, an enchanting, silken gown of yellow and baby blue whorls. They wrapped snuggly around her arms, joined at her chest to leave her shoulders bare. Her hair was drawn up in an elegant bouffant skillfully tied together by her emerald comb. And a small mask covered her eyes, black and sparkling with bits of glitter. It rendered her blue eyes iridescent.

  “You look beautiful,” he managed.

  She beamed at him. “Thank you. You look really nice, too.” She brought a hand up to her face, adjusting the mask a bit. “I hoped you wouldn’t wear your mask, but I figured you would, so I bought this. See? Now we match.”

  He bit his lip in regret, hoping she wasn’t disappointed. “I’m… sorry. I’m just not ready for that yet.”

  She took his hands. The warmth of her skin sent a charge through his whole body.

  “It’s okay,” she said, not missing a beat. Her eyes never left his. “You’re you. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Just knowing what you look like now… well that’s enough for me, Micah.”

  His fluster couldn’t have grown anymore, and his mind scurried for an escape. “Shall we?” he asked.

  “Yes! Oh, I’m so excited. Holy crickets, it’s beautiful, isn’t it? I’m really hungry, too. There are so many things to experience. What should we try first?”

  She let him lead at a pleasant pace, but didn’t let go of his hand. They made a casual tour around the plaza, discussing what they wanted to do as each possibility presented itself. Micah was hungry as well, and he’d been scoping out many of the sizzling foods for a while, ensnared by their various aromas. Charlotte, meanwhile, had a laundry list of things she’d picked up from the other women in the wagon, and she rattled them off one by one, gauging his interest in each. Her enthusiasm rubbed off on him, and he agreed to them all at first, but when she suggested dancing, he stopped, feeling terror creep in.

  He didn’t have a clue how to dance.

  After timidly confessing this to her, she hopped in excitement, taking both of his hands again. “Oh, it’s so much fun! I can teach you. Come on!”

  She gave him no chance to protest, pulling him across the court to a large, partitioned lot behind a tailor’s shop. Red lanterns lined the proximity of the square space, and many couples danced gaily to a country band eagerly belting out tune after tune on primitive instruments that would have offended the kindest artisans. Yet the music was lively, plucked with glee by wide-eyed performers. The way the people danced was peculiar as well. Pairs were joined together, but they also moved in uniform with everybody else. And their motions were particular to the clothing of St. Meran’s citizens, complementing the vivid colors and flowing material of their robes.

  Charlotte dragged him through lingering watchers and brought them right into the thick of the fast-moving couples.

  “Watch me and do what I do!” she shouted, placing him across from her.

  She started off slow, kicking her feet in perfect beat to the sounds. They were similar to the other people dancing, but much less elaborate for his sake. Her hips bounced and her hands swayed, returning a few moments later to the same position and starting again. Micah attempted to copy her. It was frustrating at first, but she kept the pace with an encouraging smile, letting him try as many times as needed. To his amazement, he finally got it, and he was matching her.

  This isn’t so hard.

  A new song played, and Charlotte changed her dancing along with the others, but again, she patiently allowed him to catch up. He matched her much quicker this time, and they were off. What must have been a common local dance morphed into something new as the song rambled along, but he had the hang of it now. It was mostly footwork, something he’d trained to perfect his whole life. She must have known, because she wasn’t surprised in the least by how quickly he took to it.

  The pangs of hunger vanished, and they danced for over an hour. She showed him slow dances and fast dances, turn steps and slide steps, songs you clapped to and songs you hushed for. It was delightful, and Micah realized with surprising clarity that half the fun resided in the ability to freely touch and hold her. The popularity of dancing no longer confounded him – it made perfect sense.

  He could have danced with Charlotte all night, but when the band stopped to take a break, Charlotte took it as a cue to move on. She seized his hand and marched him back toward the plaza, breezing her face with a fan she produced from her robes.

  “So, what did you think?” she asked.

  “I enjoyed it very much, actually,” he replied. “It was far easier than I ever anticipated.”

  “Of course. If it wasn’t simple fun, would so many people love it?”

  “I suppose I can’t argue with that logic.”

  She giggled, but it was soon replaced by a moan. “I’m starving! Let’s have dinner. I saw a barbecue grilling up a blaze by the town hall, and it’s got my name all over it.”

  They located the place at the north end of the square, a cluster of small stands surrounding a massive fire pit. Cooking over the flames were meats galore, glowing from dripping fats and filling the area with a delectable smoke. Charlotte got a steak sandwich, Paywee salad and corn on the cob with butter while Micah ordered a cut each of beef, pork and lamb along with a baked potato. They sat at picnic tables sequestered beside a nearby grove of trees where many others were eating. A lutist provided soft melodies to listen to as they ate.

  While Charlotte dug in with zeal, Micah found himself in a quandary. Without his scarf, he could no longer hide his face and pull down his mask to eat. But he was so hungry, he felt he could devour his plate whole. Charlotte seemed to pick up on his inner conflict, because she paused in her dining to look at him with an impish smile. He sighed and lowered his mask just beneath his mouth. This made her laugh, but he disregarded her teasing as the smells of his food overwhelmed all other senses.

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  The steak was juicy and tender, the lamb gamey but perfectly cooked, and the pork chop was moist and seasoned just right. By the time he finished his plate, he was beyond stuffed, but satisfied. Quickly replacing his mask, he patted his stomach and sighed. Charlotte did the same but insisted on dessert. As a compromise, they split a slice of Paywee pie with cream, of which she consumed the far greater portion.

  After taking some time to rest, Charlotte was soon on her feet again, pulling Micah along and zipping from stand to stand. They played games and listened to songs. They watched plays and street performers. They danced some more and purchased trinkets and souvenirs. The majority of the time, Charlotte talked in her usual animated fashion while he simply listened, but he would have been hard-pressed to believe she was having more fun.

  He was happy. In fact, this time at the Harvest Festival was the happiest of his life. It was an expression Micah cherished now. He understood happiness, the glowing satisfaction in his own heart, and he wanted more. It was Charlotte who first brought happiness into his life, culminated in this night to celebrate their escape from Carnel and its bounty on their heads. He wanted to remember every detail of it forever. Being with her… spending time with her. He could have wished the night to never end.

  But despite such desire, the night did grow long, and the crowds lulled to a more sedate, if not still enthusiastic, state. Charlotte suggested a walk down one of the lantern-lit boulevards to escape the throngs, and he readily agreed. They proceeded hand-in-hand down Aspiron Street, a wide road lined with large, perfectly spaced poplars.

  It wasn’t long, however, before another stand drew her attention, and she led him to a tiny hut near a park where many curious observers were listening to the large man behind the counter.

  “Step up! Step up, right here folks. Jacker Maglin’s the name and this is my game, best in town. Try your hand and catch the Spritlit! A special prize to the one who can do it!”

  Charlotte pushed through the crowd until they were in front. The announcer was huge, well over seven feet tall with a pot belly. He wore trousers with suspenders and a white t-shirt, and he used a rickety cane to augment his gestures. Placed on the counter before him were numerous random objects, from nets to candles to knives, and whole hosts of other assorted objects one might find from a tinker or at a bazaar.

  “Which of you can do it?” he asked with enthusiasm, pointing his cane at them and waving it about. “Which of you can catch one of my Spritlits? Near impossible some say, but it’s been done! So, who’s up for the challenge? A single coin for five minutes.”

  “What’s a Spritlit?” Charlotte asked. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

  “Hello, young lady! Step right up and I’ll show you. You can be the first to try and catch one of my little lovelies!”

  “Okay!”

  She joined Maglin without hesitation. He reached over and turned her around to face the onlookers and the pitch-black forest behind them. Then, he tugged on something beneath the counter near his knees. A light shined behind the crowd, and they all turned to look. Three black poles were now visible in a wide space between the stand and the forest, arranged in a triangular formation. Atop each pole was a Life Stone glowing faintly, enough to illuminate a few feet in each direction.

  That was when they appeared.

  Charlotte gasped in wonder, and the people followed suit as tiny, flitting lights emerged from the forest to surround the three crystals. Micah had never seen anything like them before. They looked and fluttered like butterflies, glowing all colors of the rainbow and shining even brighter than the crystals, but they possessed no bodies. It was as if they were invisible, and the brilliant wings and antennae worked together to operate on their own.

  “Behold my wondrous Spritlits!” Maglin boomed, interrupting their silent awe. “Now, would you like to try and catch one, miss?”

  Charlotte turned back to him, nearly hopping in her excitement. “Yes, yes! I want to try!”

  “Okay then! That’s one coin.”

  She produced a gold piece immediately and handed it to him.

  “Now, here are the rules. You get five minutes to have one in your hands. If you manage it, you win the special prize, and you get to keep the Spritlit as well. Absolutely no magic is allowed, but you can use anything I have here. Understand?”

  “I think so.” She clapped her hands. “Let’s do this.”

  Maglin produced a pocket watch, scrutinizing it intently. He raised a hand. Charlotte braced herself, scanning the counter’s various objects.

  “Aaaaaaand…. GO!”

  Charlotte immediately picked up a butterfly net, the most logical choice, and the others cheered her on as she raced to the poles. The Spritlits reacted to her presence, flitting about the lights faster. She swiped at them furiously, jumping and laughing and scurrying every which direction.

  After a couple minutes passed, she made a leaping swing, and it seemed she got one in the net. The people cheered, and Charlotte squealed in delight. But the wings passed right through the holes in the net and rejoined together, flying back to the lantern.

  “Hey!” she cried indignantly.

  Maglin burst into laughter. “Harder than it seems, isn’t it? My little delights aren’t so easy to catch! You still have two minutes.”

  Micah’s interest was completely drawn now. Charlotte abandoned the net and tried catching them with her hands, desperately running circles in a last-ditch effort. As the final ticks of her allotted time went by, she actually managed to get a hand around one, but the wings once again slipped through what should have been an inescapable enclosure for a normal insect.

  “Time’s up!” Maglin announced.

  Charlotte slumped in dejection, returning to Micah and burying her face in his arm.

  “Now, now, don’t be sad, little lady,” Maglin said in a well-practiced frown and bow. “Many have tried and few succeed in catching the elusive Spritlit. Hopefully you had a good time. So, who’s next?”

  They watched as several others gave their best shot, trying nearly every tool on the counter and every trick at their minds’ disposal. Still, nothing gave. The Spritlits were simply too fast and lucid, seemingly unbound by any possible restraints. Charlotte watched each of their attempts, her glumness growing with each failure.

  After another failed attempt, Micah released Charlotte’s hold on his arm and approached Maglin, placing a gold coin on the counter.

  “I would like a turn,” he said.

  Maglin regarded him warily. “No magic allowed, you understand.”

  “Indeed.”

  Maglin nodded and looked at his watch. After a pause, he nodded again. “Five minutes. Go.”

  Micah reached for a flint, a knife, a cotton ball, and the small candle. He scraped the knife against the flint, and a spray of sparks ignited the cotton. He set the items down and used the fire to light the candle. Taking it, he approached the poles, drawing interest from everyone watching, including Charlotte, who clutched her hands at her chest.

  Finding the darkest spot he could find between the poles, Micah crouched as low as possible, pulled his mask down, and put the candle in his mouth so the flame protruded out. He cupped his hands before him, as if to catch the melting wax, and then waited.

  A buzz went through those watching his strange actions. Time ticked by, but he remained still, crouching low with a burning candle sticking out of his mouth, and making no attempt to catch the Spritlits. It seemed odd, but Maglin began to chuckle, so they watched and waited.

  Just when it seemed hopeless, a Spritlit slowly fluttered away from one of the poles and made its way to Micah. A collective hush went through the watchers when it started to hover over his head. But Micah made no attempt to catch it, remaining still and keeping his hands cupped beneath the candle’s flame.

  “One minute!” Maglin exclaimed.

  Still, he waited. The seconds passed by achingly, making everyone sway to and fro, a collective hum urging from their throats. But they hushed again when the Spritlit slowly started to descend.

  “Thirty seconds!”

  The rainbow butterfly landed, hovering just above Micah’s fingertips. Its wings stilled in submission to the candlelight. It slowly inched forward. Charlotte had to bite her hand to keep from shouting.

  “Fifteen seconds!”

  The Spritlit hovered into the center of his hands. Micah slowly began to close them together.

  “Five seconds… four…”

  The Spritlit’s wings fluttered once, Micah paused.

  “Three… two…”

  They stilled again. Micah resumed. Just a slit remained.

  “TIME!”

  The crowd was dead silent, standing on tiptoes just to see over his crouched form. He slowly stood and turned. His hands were completely closed, and no Spritlit emerged from within.

  Charlotte cheered in delirious exuberance, and everybody else followed. Micah spit the candle out and used his shoulder to lift the mask over his mouth again. He then approached with hands tightly closed, and they all crowded around him, patting his back and applauding him.

  Maglin rubbed his head and sighed. “Well done, lad. It’s been a while since anyone’s figured it out.”

  Micah stood in expectation, clenching his hands tight.

  “Oh, you can open your hands. It won’t fly away.”

  He did as he was told, unfolding his hands. The Spritlit remained hovering in his palms, docile. Many tried to get a closer look, including Charlotte, whose eyes went wide with wonder and envy. The wings and antennae of the strange creature seemed made of pure light, swirling with every color imaginable. It moved and reacted just like a butterfly, but simply had no body.

  “As promised, here is your prize,” Maglin said, offering Micah a slip of paper embossed with gold lettering, which Charlotte took.

  “Oh, it’s admission into the Asterly Gardens!” she said upon reading it. “I heard the other women talking about them. It’s supposed to be the most beautiful place.”

  “But it’s only good for tonight, so you’d best head over now.”

  Micah nodded when Charlotte looked up at him, hoping for a positive reply. He still stood with hands open.

  “What should I do with this?” he asked Maglin.

  “Well, it’s all yours. I assume your lady friend will put it to better use, though. Yes? Here, let me see it.”

  He hovered a hand over the glowing insect, and the Spritlit rose up out of Micah’s hands. Maglin then waved it over to Charlotte, who eagerly opened her own hands. He prodded the creature a bit until it drifted into them.

  “It’s warm!” she exclaimed.

  “Clever little things,” Maglin said, scratching his face. “You let ‘em go, and they’ll find their own food. What that is exactly, I don’t have any idea. But they’ll return to you just the same, no matter where you go. Until you give ‘em away, that is. Faithful as an old bloodhound, the Spritlit. They live for years, and they’ll stay put wherever you tell ‘em to. They can only be found on the southern islands of the Swiftside Archipelago, where the locals use them as jewelry. Let me show you.”

  He lifted her hands up to her head, tipping them so the butterfly flapped its wings and fluttered to land on her head. With another prodding, it moved just behind her ear. There, it stayed to look remarkably like a shimmering hairclip. Those watching oohed and aahed at the effect. The soft light splashed her hair with myriad colors, remarkable in the nighttime. And they flickered every now and then when the Spritlit beat its wings.

  She took a mirror from the counter, admiring the brilliant effect. “Oh, it’s absolutely gorgeous!”

  The stand operator chuckled. “Alright now, off with ya. The Gardens are down this street, then you take a left at Asterly Road, which curves down the hill to the estate. About a mile should get you there. Hurry now.”

  Charlotte grabbed Micah’s hand and started off immediately. “Thank you, Mr. Maglin!” she said behind her. “It was a lot of fun!”

  Dozens of carnival-goers immediately pressed in when they were gone, demanding a chance to catch a Spritlit.

  “Back away! Back away!” Maglin demanded angrily. “You think I’m stupid or something? The Spritlit stand is closed!”