The next morning brought the coldest day this year had to offer yet. The sun hid behind thick clouds sweeping over the plane. It was a gray day that seemed to leech the world of all color and sense of time. Thick flakes of snow came down in icy sheets, soaking your boots and clothes until it seeped into your bones.

Fighting the chill with a shiver, I threw another log onto the fire, watching it toss fireflies into the air. I looked out the window and saw farmers fighting the snow in their fields. Large baskets were being loaded in heaping stacks with the last of their crops. Cattle plowed through the white carpet, nibbling at the last of the plants.

Everyone was preparing for the Blue Moon Harvest.

It started tonight, and would go on for a total of three nights. The grand finale on the third night would be Myra and Levi's wedding.

Sunshine, sleet, or snow, everything had to be ready. At this very moment, I knew the town was preparing the bonfires in the square. Blue steel braziers were strategically placed in a path to the Borobelly lake. Flags were being hung in shop windows and on doors. Dried Ghost Thistle was being gathered into bundles by the thousands for the party every town in every corner of Luradia looked forward to each year.

Staring into the rippling flames, I let the heat wash over me, my thoughts far away. Finally, I went to the stove and grabbed the pot of water off it, pouring a generous amount into a wash basin.

I sighed gratefully as I washed my face with a wet rag, savoring the warmth.

My reflection stared at me from the window. Dark circles stood in stark contrast to my pale skin, my Marks peeking out from my collar. Last night, while the house slept, I stared at the skyline and wondered what was staring back. Disturbingly, I couldn't find Lera and her twin Lorian among the constellations last night. The angels of Death were apparently busy.

"Has it ever been this cold for the Blue Moon Harvest?" Myra asked from the bedroom door, her nightgown still on. Her hair tumbled around her in red waves that caught the firelight.

"It had better warm up soon. The wedding is in just a few days!" she went on with an anxious glance toward the falling flakes.

"And not a day too soon," I muttered, making her scowl. Wordlessly, I dipped the rag back into the basin of still steaming water and rang it out. I tossed it at Myra and she managed to catch it, squeaking with surprise as she felt the relief of the warmth.

"Please tell me all the dress fittings are done. I don't like enduring a lecture from the Matron right now," I said, sinking back onto the fireside chair. Myra let out a light chuckle as she poured herself some coffee.

"And let you ruin another corset? I'd sooner hug a python," she replied with a sidelong glare. She came to the fire and sank into a chair beside it, tucking her feet under herself.

"Are we still talking about your mother?" I shot back, reaching for my own coffee mug. My fourth one this morning. Myra scowled again, reaching to pick up a discarded blanket from the floor.

"Miss Rowena, is it too much to ask that you just get along for the wedding? Then you two can go back to you usual mutual hatred," she asked, looking at me over the rim of her mug.

"Just tell her to keep her forked tongue away from me, and I'm happy to let her slither around as she likes," I replied evenly, leaning down to blow onto the fire. It blazed brightly as the wind from my lungs hit it, sending renewed waves of heat.

Rolling her eyes heavenward, Myra pulled the old wool blanket around her shoulders and stared at the flames with me. For a moment, there was only the sound of crackling flame and the creeping whisper of ice forming on the window.

"Have you heard anything from Yared yet?" she asked abruptly, breaking the silence.

I nodded, wiping sleep from my eyes. Otta had arrived earlier this morning with a note from Yared. It was vague, only saying he found what I had asked for, and that he looked forward to seeing me at the festival tonight. His letter was still on my desk.

What had followed was Otta's long, and I do mean long, description of how the repairs for Fayra's twin guns were coming along. Apparently, he was able to salvage much of the original design and planned to reforge it. Otta's other news didn't bode well.

The royal family had sent word from the capital. They wanted a demonstration of the Elemancy gun's power as soon as the final design was set. Otta was to travel there as soon as that was finished. I told him I wanted Fay's guns back first, and he relented, promising to prioritize them.

Gods, I needed to know where those "crystals" were coming from. Tonight couldn't come too soon.

Tightening my grip on my mug, I glanced sidelong at Myra.

"So," I said conversationally, "Are you finally going to tell me why you've been secretly studying Elemancy all these years?"

A mask settled over Myra's face.

"I told you I borrowed--"

"Cut the horse shit, Myrabelle" I interrupted irritably, setting my mug on the table with a sharp crack. Myra flinched, but didn't offer anything in reply. I rolled my eyes and prodded the fire with the poker, sending more sparks floating up the chimney.

"Gods damn you. Why are you so determined to act like your brain doesn't exist?" I demanded, swiveling in my seat to stare at her fully. Seconds ticked by as our eyes met.

Finally, Myra huffed a sigh.

"Did you know," Myra began cautiously. "That Lucien Beecher is trying to make a locomotive engine that runs off alchemical magic?"

I blinked at her.

"What--"

"Did you know," she interrupted, taking a long sip from her mug, "The Clarhaven Pistol Company, the one your family surpassed as the largest firearms dealer in Luradia, hinted that they are seeking out 'lower' clients to sell their weapons to?"

She paused significantly, a wry smile lifting the corner of her mouth. She looked at me with raised brows, seeming to want an answer.

"No. I didn't," I replied honestly, lacing my fingers together. How had I missed such important things?

"Of course you didn't. Why would they talk about things like that in front of a woman like you?" Myra said, her smiling turning victorious. I nodded, finally comprehending what she implied.

"They wouldn't because they know I'll listen to things like that,"

"But people loosen their tongues when they think they're talking in front of someone who doesn't understand," Myra concluded, her eyes dancing.

I blinked at her again.

"Holy shit. That's brilliant, Myra."

She lifted a single shoulder in a delicate shrug, brushing some curls over her shoulder.

"Trust me, I know," she said in a superior tone. Chuckling, I gestured to the Elemancy gun, which still sat on the kitchen table.

"But that doesn't answer my question, Princess. Why are you focusing so much on Elemancy?" I asked bluntly. Myra's face darkened, the smile disappearing like the sun behind a cloud.

"That's private. I'm not at liberty to discuss it," she replied stiffly, shifting her weight in the seat.

"Don't make me regret saving your pampered ass. Out with it," I growled, growing tired of the secrets. Myra held out for all of two seconds, before folding under my glare.

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"Fine," she said with a huff, "It has to do with something my father told me. Something that he found out from the God of Knowing,"

"He was Marked by him originally," I recalled quietly.

"Are you going to let me tell the story, Miss Nosy?"

I put a hand to my chest in mock repentance, donning my posh accent.

"Oh my dearest goodness! Will you please pardon me, Lady Myrabelle?"

Myra slitted her eyes at me, unamused.

"As I was saying, when my Father used his Mark from the God of knowing, he was granted three questions."

Myra paused, using the bellows to stoke the fire again. Wind howled outside as she drew her knees against her chest.

"For his first question, he asked what an Elemancer's weakness was. He was told that steel weakened their spells, and that's why he invested in the iron mines and steel production mills."

Another gulp.

"He then asked if there was a way humans could gain magic. He was told no, unless they were Marked by the Gods."

She phased into silence, a line forming between her eyes.

"He then asked if there was a way to protect ourselves from magic."

Myra's gaze snapped into focus, her expression suddenly serious.

"And the God of Knowing told him that humans used to be immune to magic, but that ability was stolen from us by the Elemancers," Myra said heavily. It took me several seconds to reply.

"And the God didn't say how humanity could get that ability back?"

"No," Myra said in a near-whisper, her chin coming down to rest on her knees..

"He only had three questions."

*******

The Blue Moon Festival. Say what you wanted about this town, but it knew how to throw an epic party. City guards were out in force tonight, ready to control any brawls or inevitable drunken displays. The booze had been flowing freely since the early afternoon, and some people were already passed out in alleyways.

Zachariah was busy at the Sparrow, knowing he would make more money tonight than he did in a month if he manned the bar right. Ash had opted to stay away from the festivities, still staying at my cabin. So, that left myself and Myra, both dressed in warm gowns at Myra's insistence, to attend the festival.

Huge bonfires burned brightly with blue flames, throwing off generous heat in the square. A band had struck up a bawdy tune, and music swelled in the street as people broke out in groups dancing. Street vendors cooked plate after plate of roasted meats and vegetables, belching steam into the starry sky. Swarms of children buzzed about, high on the sugary sweets at every booth.

"There they are!" Levi called through the crowd, Dash's considerable bulk trailing behind. Levi's blue eyes lit up as he saw Myra, and I couldn't blame him. She had chosen a simple braid to style her hair tonight, and a deep blue winter gown complimented her ivory skin well. Myra laughed as Levi pressed a kiss to her hand.

Dash shook my hand, his skin surprisingly warm.

"I see you've managed to protect Myra without ripping her to shreds. I'm impressed, my Lady," he said smoothly, blonde hair rippling in the light of the blue flames.

"It was a close call," I said gravely, taking the wine skin he offered, "Three nights and two days left."

Dash stepped back in mock reproach.

"Lady Rowena, contain your excitement. It's unseemly," he said, ending with a broad grin. Chuckling, I looked at Myra and Levi, who were already twirling with the other dancing couples.

"Excitement isn't what I would call it, sir," I muttered, trying to keep watch over them. It suddenly struck me that this festival would likely be much less fun when I was stuck playing body guard in a group of people this large.

A cheer went up from a section of the crown near a vendor, and I looked up to see Councilman Terris striding toward us. Most of the other council members drifted behind him. They dispersed into the crowd, each carrying armfuls of Ghost Thistle. Dash swept into a small bow before shaking Terris's offered hand, and then took the thistle the councilman offered

"Good evening! I hope you are both enjoying the festivities! It is good to meet you again Mr. Eastmark. Lady Rowena, you look lovely this evening," Terris said jubilantly, extended a Ghost Thistle bundle to me as well. I accepted it as I muttered a greeting, marveling at the white flowers. They each gave off a soft glow in their paper wrapping.

"Are you going to give your speech for the Gazing Ceremony soon, Councilman?" Dash asked as he pulled a small white flower from his bundle. After a moment of thought, he tucked it into his lapel. Terris nodded, standing a fraction taller. I realized then that he was nearly Dash's height.

"Yes, we must remember our traditions before we devolve into utter drunkenness," Terris said, shifting the bundles in his arms. He shook his head, remembering he had a task to do.

"But I'm afraid I cannot delay any longer. There are still many more thistle bundles to hand out before the moon reaches its zenith. Enjoy the festival," he said, turning away after a quick bow.

The band struck up another merry tune as Terris walked away, handing out bundles of thistle to everyone in attendance. The music quickened, and another roar went up in the crowd as they recognized the song. I leaned this way and that until I caught sight of Myra and Levi, still dancing. They were in the middle of two circling rows of people with their arms linked. The two rows crossed and intersected, forming knots of increasing complexity that the dancers took delight in coming out of.

Not in the mood to dance I went to one of the benches near the roaring blue bonfire. I was pleasantly surprised when Dash joined me, liking the big nobleman more with each meeting.

Before long, a woman came up to us. She pulled at Dash to join the dance, but he refused politely. Sending him a sour look, she melted back into the crowd. Taking a sip from my wine skin, I raised a brow at him.

"You should have danced with her. She was pretty,' I said, tilting the skin at the woman. She was already being swept around by another man, so I didn't feel too bad for her.

Dash surprised me by chuckling.

"You're right. She was very pretty," Dash said, suddenly pointing at a stocky man plowing his way through the crowd toward her, "And I'm sure her husband thinks she's pretty too."

The man reached her, and they were yelling at one another before long. The city guard was on it in moments, ushering them off to the side. The crowd only slowed for a second before they were dancing again, the small drama forgotten. I laughed, finding Myra and Levi in the crowd again before I took another sip.

"Well then," I said, holding my wine skin up in salute, "Happy Blue Moon."

*******

As the moon climbed in the sky, the four of us meandered down the street to the Borobelly lake with the rest of the crowd. The Blue Moon was ten times the size of a normal one, casting pale blue light on the world. People gathered around the frozen shore of the lake, its surface reflecting as well as any mirror. In the heat cast by the blue bonfires, the lake had thawed into a shifting current of black.

All were waiting for the Gazing Ceremony. Beyond the other side, snow covered the plain, occasional swells of it kicking up in the wind. The moonlight reflected off it, making them look like spirits sprinting across the wintery fields.

Just before the moon was directly over the water, Councilman Terris climbed the large stone bridge spanning the lake's considerable diameter. He held his hands up, and the crowd quieted to feint whispers.

"Ladies and gentlemen! This year in Tumblend has brought us great joy and several blessings. The Gods have give us a bountiful harvest, and our town has seen the expansion of captains of industry. All of us, all of you, have done excellent work this year. Not just for Tumblend, but for Luradia!"

A cheer went up from the crowd, only settling down when Terris waved for quiet.

"And yet no year, despite its successes, comes without loss. As we take our pleasure in our festival, I invite you to raise at least one toast to those who have boarded their ship to the Far Shore. Think of them, and think of us all as you gaze into the water tonight."

Terris raised his hands to the starry sky again, the Blue Moon now directly over the water. He had timed his speech well. As his voice faded, the moon reached its highest point over the lake, beams of it concentrating into the water. The lake began to glow with blue light of its own, a perfect reflection of the moon in it's center.

"In this spirit," Terris went on, the water reflecting up into his face perfectly. His eyes seemed to glow as he held up a bundle of Ghost Thistle, pulling out a tiny flower and dropping it into the water.

"I invite you now to gaze into the water as generations before us have done. Present your offering, and see what Fate says to you under the light of the night sky!"

Applause erupted from the crowd around me as I played with my bundle idly.

The Blue Moon had another name. The Fate Moon. Over two hundred years ago, people discovered its most treasured secret. When you offered a Ghost Thisle to the water under the light of the Blue Moon, it was said that your reflection would change. Fate would give you a gift to carry into the next year.

A glimpse into the past.

Or the present.

Or the future.

A glimpse into your destiny.

As I twirled the bundle in my hands, I couldn't decide if I even wanted to see what the water would hold. Even now, Myra and Levi were already walking to the shore. I watch as they each dropped a flower into the water, holding hands as they gazed within. I stood back, glancing around yet again, and my chest tightened with worry.

I still hadn't seen Yared.

That wasn't the only reason I stood apart. In the past ten years I had never taken part in the Gazing Ceremony. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what Fate had to show me. If anything at all.

People in the crowd dispersed, all going to private sections of the shore. They hurried to get a spot in the precious few minutes the light lasted, murmuring in hushed excitement. And yet, I still stood back, turning the flowers in my hands over and over again. I just stared at the glowing water, seeing people look into its glossy surface.

Some people looked happy. On the far shore, I saw a couple embrace, the man stooping to kiss the woman's belly. It was a small wonder what they saw, as others leaned over to congratulate them.

Other people weren't so lucky, turning away from the water with grim faces.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I also turned away, resettling my grip on the Ghost Thistle. Heat gathered at the back of my eyes as a single word rang in my head over and over again.

Coward.

I crushed the flowers in my hand, growling quietly. Why was it so hard for me to look into a pool of power I didn't believe in?

Just then, I felt something odd in my hand as it squeezed tighter on the bundle.

A piece of paper was wrapped skillfully around the stem of a Ghost Thistle, tied with red silk.

I pulled the paper out with shaking hands, realizing it was a letter. A letter that had the same distinctive red ink on the page.

Hello again, my Lady. Sending old men to do your work, are we? You disappoint me.

Curled inside the letter was a picture. The picture I had seen of a younger Yared with his family. The picture he kept on his desk.

"Yared," I murmured quietly.

And then I started running.