Wielder

Chapter 1 - The Golden Butterfly (Part 2)

"Wait." He let her pull her arm from his grasp, but the fear in his voice made her hesitate. "It could be dangerous."

"How? It's just a bug. And it's getting away." She jumped onto her toes, peering over the fence to see where the butterfly had gone.

Michael followed her as she darted toward the side gate, rushing out into the front yard in pursuit. "Okay, let's say it is magic, just for a second. Hasn't every story you've ever read me, ever, emphasized that magic is something to avoid whenever possible? Don't people forget who they are when they meddle with this stuff? Don't they get killed by it more often than not?"

"That's just in the old fairy tales," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "And that's just if you touch it, or make deals with it, or follow it into dark forests. And, last I checked, there weren't any forests growing anywhere near town." She raced around the corner, following the butterfly's glowing wings toward the end of a long street. "I just want to find out where it's going."

Michael kept pace with her easily. "Okay, what if it's a drone?"

She cast a confused glance his way, then shook her head. "Then, someone has been spying on us, and we should find out who."

"That sounds like a terrible idea."

"Well, it's better than going back home and risking them violating our privacy, again."

"Alie, it's nine o'clock at night. I'd really rather not get into a confrontation right now, just because you thought—"

"Look, it's landing!" She quickened her pace to the end of the cul-de-sac, where the neighborhood's empty lot lay. Weeds had overgrown the space long ago, creating a thick, dry bramble as tall as a grown man over the entire expanse. Only the fences on either side of the lot from the neighboring houses controlled the perimeter of the overgrowth.

The butterfly, still glowing as bright as a candle, delicately settled itself on an overarching branch in the center of the bramble.

Alie stopped at the lot's edge, unable to venture into the thick brush. She panted lightly, already winded by even the short trek through the neighborhood. She stood on tip-toe, struggling to get a better look at the delicate, glowing wings.

"That's not a drone," she whispered, as Michael stepped up beside her.

He frowned deeply. "No, it's not a drone."

"It's real."

"It's... something." He took a step back and gave it a long, tentative stare. "I still say it's not magic."

The butterfly's antennae twitched.

And the dead patch of brambles melted away.

Literally melted, in a shower of sparkling light. The dead branches turned to golden dust, vanishing from the top down as if they had been part of a spell that had been broken. In their place rose lush trees and vibrant flower beds. The dry heat of the summer desert became overwhelmed by the refreshing kiss of a springtime garden. A trickling stream wove through the rear of the lot, flowing from a corner fountain shaped like a Greek goddess pouring out a large pot. A path of light-colored stone paved the way to the center of the garden, where a golden, glowing archway wove up from the mossy ground in swirling patterns of delicate metal. It glowed as if from within, exactly like the butterfly, which now sat atop the archway lifting and lowering its wings with pride.

Alie could barely breathe. "What about now?" she asked in a whisper.

Unable to speak, Michael just shook his head.