The window was supposed to be closed, locked, and left untouched, but Seoras knew it had been opened. The breeze made the window’s white curtains dance like the lace of an invisible woman’s dress. Seoras sat on his bed, watching intently, as if the curtains had a message to pass, a secret to tell. They beckoned Seoras to walk through them, to seize what remained of twilight to guide him back the forest before darkness conquered the land.

Surely the wizards were watching. They had been watching for hours to see when Seoras would notice their invitation.

Seoras stood from the bed and walked to window, ignoring the warm carpet under his bare feet, the blaze and crackling of the fire heating the room, the gentle and reliable ticking of the old clock on the fireplace’s mantle. The house longed to keep him, but even against the coldness of the night, it was no match for the lure of a wizard’s summoning. And so Seoras pulled back the curtains and peered out at the forest below, where the wizards were waiting.