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later. Jareth couldn’t hear what she said, but he noticed that she was smiling when she walked away.
    It took time for the ceremony to be completed, but at last everyone had participated and the mood shifted from sacred to celebratory. There was much laughter and passing of honeywine sacks as everyone gathered around the fire. A chill was in the air at night now, and the warmth was welcome.
    He looked about for Taya, but didn’t see her. Then the crowd parted slightly and she stood alone for a brief moment. Fire bathed her in yellow and orange, and to Jareth, she looked like the sun come to life. Perhaps feeling his gaze, Taya turned slowly. Their eyes met and her lips curved in a slight smile. Summoning his courage, Jareth stepped forward and—
    A small hand curled trustingly around his. He looked down to see little Altan beaming up at him.
    “Guess what, Jareth? The huskaa of Two Lakes heard me singing and playing this afternoon and he has agreed to take me on as a huskaa-lal! ”
    This was a high honor and at any other time, Jareth would have been thrilled for Altan. But tonight…He glanced up.
    Taya was gone. The stab of disappointment was surprising in its keenness.
    “Jareth?” Altan tugged on his hand. Jareth forced a smile.
    “That’s wonderful, Altan. I’m very proud of you. You have a lot of talent and you’ve worked very hard. You’re going to make a fine huskaa. ” The words were true and he tried to sound like he meant them. He must have succeeded, for Altan’s brow unfurrowed and he beamed up at his friend.
    “Come and sit!” Altan urged. “He’s starting to play. I want to be just like him when I grow up. And just like you, too.”
    Jareth’s heart melted. It was always hard to resist Altan. Somehow, he always felt he owed the Lukkari family a debt for their lost daughter, although Paiva had assured him that his presence at Altan’s birth had not been responsible for Ilta Lukkari’s death. Indeed, Altan’s mother claimed loudly and repeatedly that it was “the Spring-Bringer’s presence” that had graced Altan with life and talent.
    What did it matter if he sat and listened to songs all evening? Taya was nowhere to be seen. Jareth sighed, found a spot on one of the logs provided as seats, pulled Altan into his lap, and decided to make the best of it.
    The huskaa was worth listening to. He went through a repertoire of standard songs, some merry, some sad. Jareth thought he had never heard the Ice Maiden song cycle, “Circle of Ice,” performed so powerfully. As the evening wore down, Altan did too. He was asleep in Jareth’s arms by the time the performer turned to more adult themes. As he listened to one of the singer’s original compositions, written specifically for this night, Jareth grew wistful.
     
    The golden turns to purple;
The purple fades to gray.
Come leave the darkling fields behind
To the dying of the day.
Come rest thy weary body
Beside the fire’s light,
For the harvest has been gathered in
And we celebrate tonight.
     
Behold our table laden
With fruit of tree and vine.
Partake of golden wheaten bread
And taste the sweet red wine.
Our larder’s filled with winter stores,
A fair and welcome sight,
For the harvest has been gathered in
And we celebrate tonight.
     
I’ll rub thy weary shoulders,
And lie with thee till dawn.
Perhaps tonight we’ll sow the seed
For a harvest later on;
A child born in nine month’s time
To be raised in love and light—
For the harvest has been gathered in
And we celebrate tonight.
     
     
    Jareth’s thoughts turned to Taya. Others were pairing off, leaving the ring of firelight or sitting holding hands. The harvest was about bounty and family, about facing the coming darkness and deprivation of winter together. And once again, he would be alone.
     
    The winds blow crisp and cold now,
The mighty trees are bare.
Aye, Summer sweet has breathed her last,
But we shall not despair.
Though winter looms before us,