She stifled a sob and evened her breath. “Oh Badger…thank you. I know you're old enough. I see you’re strong enough. But I’m your mom, and I’ll always be afraid for you. Promise you’ll come back home for the Festival of Dawn. Promise you’ll do it in one piece.”

I tapped a finger on my heart, then hugged her with all my might. “I promise.”

The next day, a crowd of fancy carriages took my friends and the Dark royals to the Arbor Inn. The lobby was more beautiful than the intricate exterior, a barrage of color and texture and light. Crowds of people filled it, friends and family of Glass from all over the V.U.C.

A great ballroom took up the entirety of the second floor, packed with a rainbow of colored fabric, as Willow predicted. The four of us were greeted at the entryway by Mercury, wearing a silvery-green iridescent suit. One of his arms was on a sling inside his jacket.

“You all look swell,” he said brightly.

Sharp fluttered the hem of the dress. “We do, don’t we? Care to dance after the ceremony?”

His gray face purpled and he stammered. “Um, yes, okay. I think they'll start in a few minutes.” He looked over his shoulder and then back at us. “Before that, I need to ask you something. Is it true you’re all leaving with that City man after the party?”

“It's true,” confirmed Piranha.

“Can I steal a ride? One of the Divine Pantheon is on the council there. My mother wants me to connect with them.”

We exchanged glances, but none of us had a problem with him coming along. Sharp seemed giddy about it, in fact.

The dual Teal and Tungsten popped up on either side of Mercury, wearing identical plush suits in two different shades of blue.

“Did you ask her to dance? That's my man!” Teal pursed his lips and pinched his cheek. Tungsten squatted him away and sighed.

“Perfect. My cue to leave.” Mercury winked and crackled back to his seat.

“I asked him,” Sharp said, the edges of her silky green dress brushing against their legs as she passed, turning their faces identical burgundy.

We sat in the front row with Dr. Gold-and-Silver and my mothers. Family, friends, and colleagues of Glass filled the room, their love for him palpable and audible.

“Look at the food table,” insisted Piranha, eyes like saucers. “All those delicious baked goods! If Glass were here, he’d be a happy man."

“He is,” I confessed. “Here, I mean.”

When they looked confused, I told the two of them his last words, and what I’d seen on the other side, which resulted in an eruption of tears. Sharp put her arms around Piranha, but only a few tears dripped from her eyes, thanks to her father's composure.

Willow embraced me and dried his eyes on the gossamer rope around my neck. “I can only imagine how you felt then.”

I patted his back. “It’s…hard to explain. Like I’m sad…but joyful.” I dared to smile at Sharp. Her tears were strong, and her lavender-grey eyes knew what I meant.

“Everything is changing now.” Piranha sniffled and settled into their chair. “Even when we get back home, it won’t feel the same without him.”

“No, it won't,” asserted Willow, eyes wet and puffy. “But his light is still here, so life doesn't have to be dimmer. We can make things even brighter.”

A few notes of music traveled across the room, cueing everyone to find their seats before the start of the ceremony.

“Good evening, honored guests!” Sharp's uncle Glisten made his way up to the stage. He was the spitting image of his younger brother, except for a much rounder stomach and a much bushier beard. When he took the stage, I soon realized why the Great City had a superior way of conducting funerals. The tone was far from serious, frivolous even. With a smile on his face, but a choke to his voice, he told us a story of a younger Glass. By the end of the tale, everyone in the room was laughing uproariously. Sharp was so tickled by the story of her father trying to sneak into a silver mine after one too many spirits, she could hardly breathe.

This energy continued to build over the next half hour, as more people shared their stories about Pantmawr's best doctor. Sharp recounted the time she had beaten him in a sword fight at seven years old, and Mama Robin told everyone about the Festival of Dawn where Glass burned an entire duck, only to eat it anyway.

There was no escaping the melancholy that came with these stories, but I hadn’t expected the event to be filled with so much laughter. After enough sharing, everyone began to fill their plates with food. Glisten brought many parties worth of his brother's favorite sun-wine and golden wheat beer. By the end of the meal, most of the guests were delightfully drunk and ready to dance.

Sharp left with Mercury, and when we saw her again her hair was around her face in a whirlwind. Normally adults wouldn't let kids our age have more than one glass of sun-wine, but I guess rules were different when it came to grief.

“There you are! Come with us!” she commanded, leaning on a flushed Willow. “We found something and now we have a plan!”

I checked the time on my finger. “We're leaving in an hour. What kind of plan do you mean?”

“A surprise!” Willow giggled.

I followed my giddy friends out of the ballroom, through the empty corridor into an adjacent stage room. Willow rambled on the way. “Musical troupes used to travel here all the time before the borders became too unstable. The Arbor Inn is one of the only places in the Wilds where they still go.”

He opened the door to reveal a messy room lined with mismatched shelves, full of old instruments and bizarre hardware. The first thing that caught my eye was…

“An orchestra gourd!”

It leaned in dusty glory against a cabinet on the floor, an old thing, well-made from ghost wood. I held it in my arms and began to tune the City Silver strings by ear.

“The owner told us you could keep it,” Sharp declared, plucking one of the strings and chuckling.

“Seriously?” It warmed my fingers, like it had been waiting for me all this time. “This is amazing!”

Willow waggled his eyebrows and floated a foot off the floor. “Now for the plan! The usual?”

“I'll need to change back into my armor,” Sharp grumbled, looking woefully at her beautiful green dress.

Piranha clapped. “What song shall we sing?”

“Glass' favorite?” I suggested.

Sharp looked at the ceiling, thought for a moment, and a smile bloomed on her face.

“Where did those kids go? We're leaving in ten minutes!” mumbled Glisten, trying to make a surreptitious exit. He hovered by the entryway, chatting with my mothers.

“Those four are never where you expect them to be,” Mama Robin commiserated. She wore a green corduroy dress embroidered with sunflowers, complementing her wife’s ensemble, a yellow dress painted with little orange suns.

Ivory glided by, filling the room with warm nostalgia. “Are you trying to find some lost little creatures?”

“Yes! They need to say their goodbyes so we can get on the road!” Glisten combed through the crowd. “Have you seen them?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.” She gestured to the center of the dance floor. “They said something about needing to do a ‘proper send-off’ and sent me to get you.”

“Oh great. We're never going to get out of this forest.” Glisten tossed back the rest of his sun-wine.

Puma hopped in place, spilling beer on the floor. “Oh, lighten up. This is still a celebration! Think about your brother. I know I'm biased, but they have such talent!”