Free Third Solstice CALIBRE with cover by Harper

seeing. “Keep walking,” Lee said softly, an edge of warning in his voice. “They think it’s the Candle Dance.”
    “Doesn’t that happen later, with the Montol ’Oss?”
    “Yep.”
    “And... what is it really?”
    “It’s Tamsyn.”
    Nobody was looking at her. She was doing nothing to draw attention to herself, sitting crooning in Lee’s arms. Only her hands were busy, pushing and shaping the air. She was making a pattern. Gideon recognised it—the Christmas-tree ornament she liked best, the sphere with its array of little lights. Saul Priddy had worked his way to the front row. He gave a faint squawk as his torch went out, the fire lifting from its head and floating to join the others in the sphere. A look of wondering innocence overcame him, a face Gideon doubted even his mother had seen. “I have to nick that lad.”
    “I know. Not yet.”
    No. It was very important that Gideon didn’t disturb any aspect of this. He noticed that people were pacing in pairs to the beat of the crowdy-crawn drums, so he tucked his arm through Lee’s, shivering in pleasure as Lee drew him close. “I see why you weren’t answering your phone.”
    “I knew you’d be worried. I’m sorry. A group of kids were trying to set fire to a boat down here, and she just... took their torches from them and started doing this. And everyone came drifting down to watch.”
    “Why aren’t they freaking out?”
    “Don’t know. They’ve seen Derren Brown, I suppose. Maybe they think it’s all done with mirrors.”
    Whatever they thought, they were peaceful. Gideon had never been part of a crowd so united, so surrendered to its central focus. No-one who came here could be harbouring thoughts of destruction, and half Penzance was down on the quayside now, swirling slowly around the sphere of fire. Tamsyn was making it big enough for all of them to see, stealing light after light from the torches and setting them in her display. Her face was rapt, the dark curls escaping from under her woolly hat dancing in the breeze. Lee held her more closely. “What are we going to do with her, Gid?”
    His eyes were full of tears. Gideon tightened his grip on his arm. “Everyone’s becoming what they should be. She will, too—whatever she has to be, sweetheart, no matter what you and I think about it.”
    The pattern was done. The sphere stopped its rotation. All the people gathered round came to a gentle halt as well, and a ripple of laughter and applause rose up, praise for the unseen magician who’d arranged this new Montol delight. Gideon lifted Tamsyn carefully out of Lee’s arms. “Give me that heavy kid,” he said, smiling. He was father to the child. Whatever she became, he had to guide her. He kissed her, and she gave her usual squawk of delight at the sight of him. “Tamsyn. Put the fire in the water. Can you manage that?”
    The words on their own were no good. The places she tugged in his head were tough fibres, strong ropes of love. He could tug back without hurting her. Holding her lambent gaze, he showed her what he wanted—like any father, told her what to do.
    The sphere shot into the air. She gave it one last spin for the hell of it, and then effortlessly fired the whole structure off like a meteor shower, far out into the waters of Mount’s Bay.
     
    ***
     
    Gideon steered his family back towards the car. He met DI Lawrence outside the police station, and paused by her patrol car long enough to get signed off duty for the night. He sidestepped her questions as best he could. She looked dazed, clearly unable to believe how the town she’d been supervising had exploded under her hands, or how eerily it had calmed down afterwards. The fires were out, Saul Priddy and his gang rounded up, the Montol celebrations continuing as if nothing had happened. An officer had been dispatched to the Gwidder Hill to check for any signs of Jana Ragwen, and had reported the warehouse empty. Lawrence thanked Gideon for his services,