Author's Note: I finally finished this; it took me a little while, since I've been trying to finish my other stories, but I decided you all have waited long enough for this story, so I'm going to give it to you even though I had said I wouldn't update until I finished Half the Power. This will probably be the only update for this week, as I have a great many things to do before the end of high school. This is likely the last of this little series, as I'm satisfied with the way it turned out. If you would like to write a story using the setting I have created, you are more than welcome to; I only ask that if you decide to write such a story, please credit me with the creation of the first story. I am willing to provide any information you wish to know, just PM me.

Now, after that overly long rambling semi-rant…do enjoy the story, and tell me what you think!

By the Light of the Full Moon

Continuation of Aurora Borealis, the Northern Lights

Jamie Bennett stares up into the darkening sky; it is still something of a surprise to consider all that has happened since he and his sister first arrived in their new home. He knows if he tried to tell anyone else of the events of that snowy new moon night, he would be written off as crazy, or people wouldn't think to believe him in the first place.

"But it did happen," he whispers to the cool almost-night air. "It did happen. And I was there."

Talking to yourself again, Jamie? A voice rings from the gloom. Jamie turns to meet the laughing blue eyes of the silver-and-white fox sitting beside him, as comfortable on the railing of Jamie's aunt's porch as on solid ground.

"Maybe," Jamie replies, brushing a line of snow from the railing. Yes, anyone else who had not been there that night would think him crazy, for talking to a fox as if it can and will talk back. He looks up, past the distant peaks of the mountains that border the valley, and he can see the top of the bright full moon beginning to clear that far-off horizon. A conversation comes back to him, one he remembers well:

"How is it that you all have weapons that are sized for humans when you're animals?"

We're not ordinary animals—haven't you seen that yet?

"What do you mean by that, though?"

Wait till the night of the full moon, and then you'll see!

Jamie has never been extremely patient; so he is very grateful that the full moon night has come quickly enough, with all the excitement after the new moon. Jamie can still recall the feeling of the sword clutched in his hands, of fighting side by side with Sophie, her boomerang flying in and out of a mass of darkness that had threatened to swallow them all.

Jamie can recall the fear, the exhaustion, the pain…and when he gets too embroiled in memories of defeat, the light of the aurora borealis threads through his thoughts, bringing with it its reminder to him of faith and hope. He is not sure how Tooth can possibly know when his thoughts turn to the darker side of that night, but she is always able to give him that memory of the aurora. He does not realize he has been silent for too long until Jack's voice breaks into his thoughts.

Are you all right, Jamie?

Jamie breathes out a sigh, his hands curling over the railing. "Fine," he says, licking his lips. He cannot help but cast a look towards the front of the village, where the pass looms still and silent. He has not seen the shadowy dog since Pitch's leave-taking at the dawn after the most exciting—not in a good way—night of Jamie's life. Still, he knows the dog is out there, watching, waiting for his time of power to come again.

But tonight, the balance is tipped heavily in the Guardians' favor.

Jack's eyes are almost solemn. If you say so, is all he says, though, and Jamie is grateful he does not push. The fox leaps from the railing to land neatly on the porch. Come on, it's almost time.

Almost time. Time for Jamie to finally have the answer to the question he has asked each of the Guardians in turn: What happens on the night of the full moon? Jack would cackle madly and announce that he'd have to wait. North would say that the full moon was a night of wonder, but he would not say more than that. Tooth would flit about his head and murmur that it was their time of power, and their moment to regain something they'd lost. Any inquiries into what that might be were shot down. Aster would only grunt and mutter that the full moon brought on a great change. Sandy had been probably the second-least-helpful, after Jack. The little cat would only show Jamie the full moon shining on the lake.

But now, now—the full moon is here, and indeed, shining brightly upon the ice of the lake that is at the back of the little valley. Now, Jamie can have his answer.

He follows the fox back into the house. Sophie is perched on her armchair, eager-looking, Aster's boomerang in hand. After she had used it in the new moon battle, it has seemed stuck to her, going everywhere she goes. Jamie, meanwhile, had returned the sword to North; the wolf had promised, When Pitch comes back, you use again, yeah?

Jamie had reluctantly agreed, but a part of him still found it exciting, to have a weapon to cut down creatures of darkness. He turns his thoughts forcibly from the memorable fight and looks about the room. Tooth is sitting on the back of the couch, colorful feathers looking even brighter in the glow of the firelight. Aster is sprawled at the base of Sophie's chair, looking for all the world like a rabbit rug. North is stretched out in front of the fire, fur spiked with orange light. Sandy is curled up on the far couch cushion, the one usually claimed by Jack. Erin is sitting in North's place, and Jamie's own spot in the middle is untouched.

Jack voices his displeasure at having to share his place, but takes great care to not displace the sleeping cat, sliding into the back of the cushion. Jamie wonders if Jack would have been so considerate had Sandy not arrived to the battle, if he had not chosen to take on Pitch as a diversion, to hold till the first rays of dawn. He would like to think not, as Jack appears to care greatly for the other Guardians, but one never knows with a fox.

Jamie crosses to the couch and settles in carefully, trying his best not to move around the animals on the end. Erin turns towards him, green eyes bright. "Big night tonight," she says, humming softly under her breath.

"Yes," Jamie agrees with a nod. The flames dance in the fireplace. He exhales slowly, studying the almost hypnotizing way the fire leaps and crackles. "Aunt Erin," he begins, and green eyes focus on him. "Are we…are we allowed to see this?"

It is not Erin who answers, but North, rising to his paws in one great lunge. Not only allowed, he rumbles, blue eyes glowing like the moon. Not only allowed, but invited! Big night, as Erin says…you think we leave you out, after what you did for us? No! That would be poor sportsmanship indeed!

A smile creeps its way across Jamie's face. "Thanks, North," he murmurs, and the tall wolf offers him a comradely nudge with his muzzle before nosing at Sandy's sleeping form. Sandy! Wake up! Big night soon, remember?

The little golden cat lifts his head slowly, blinking narrowed golden eyes. He's up, Jack announces, crawling to the arm of the couch and balancing, his posture rife with the beginnings of mischief. As Jamie and Sophie watch, the fox leaps from the couch, executing a perfect downwards parabola to land squarely on the rabbit rug.

With a yelp Aster jerks upright, batting at Jack's paws. Get off, you great lump!

I'll show you 'great lump'! Jack looks severely affronted; but before he can make a move to do anything North's paw gently but firmly pushes them apart. Both rabbit and fox glance towards the wolf. North has moved closer to the door, staring out the window, where Jamie can see the full moon rising higher, painting the valley in shades of glowing silver.

We have somewhere to be, the wolf reminds them all, and pushes at the door. Erin is up in a moment, holding them door open for the quintet of animals; Sophie scrambles out after them but Jamie hesitates, looking to Erin. "Aren't you coming?"

"Have seen many times," Erin waves a hand in an offhanded manner. Her eyes twinkle as she smiles. "But you…you go. See your answer, yes?" And she none-too-gently shoves him out the door.

"Yes," he says aloud in reply, taking off through the snow, following the sets of tracks and Sophie's footprints.

They are gathered at the shore of the lake, where the moon's reflection hovers still across the ice. As Jamie draws up beside them Jack presses both front paws to the surface of the frozen water, and frost patterns go racing across the lake, momentarily disrupting the moon's image.

At Jamie's questioning look, Aster supplies, Fortifying the ice. Wouldn't want anyone to fall in, now would we?

Jamie is saved from answering when Sandy moves, stepping solemnly onto the ice. Jamie half-expects the others to follow, but there is only the little golden cat, outlined in pale silver, walking carefully to the center of the lake. Jamie has to squint to see him amidst the silver; but he can tell that Sandy has stopped moving—right on the center of the reflection of the moon.

A soft wind stirs up the snow at Jamie's feet; he narrows his eyes, trying to keep Sandy in focus. For the little cat's image is blurring, running together as if water has separated them. The moonlight is growing thicker, now a radiant beam centered firmly on the lake and the little cat standing on it.

For a moment, all is still.

Then Jamie's world tilts slightly, as if the earth of the valley itself has been upset by the moonlight. There is a subtle shift in the air, as the snow flurries race towards the center of the lake and Sandy disappears behind them.

Is this normal? he wants to ask, but the other animals' eyes are trained on that distant moon reflection and the little cat beyond the snow. The moonlight seems to brighten, once, twice—and the veil of snow is broken; the silvery light wanes only slightly, leaving the no-longer-cat standing quietly on the ice.

And then Sandy is striding off the ice, no longer outlined in silver light, and Jamie thinks that he may have his answer.

The only sign that Sandy was once a cat are the pair of cat's ears nesting in his wild hair and the tail waving behind him. Now he is a man, still not quite as tall as one might think, wearing robes of golden fur. His hair is a pale almost orange color, and his eyes are the selfsame golden ones as the cat's had been. Jamie squints, and a pale yellow circle becomes visible against Sandy's forehead, like a marking.

Aster is the next onto the ice, arrowing straight for the moon's reflection. The moonlight is bright again, and once more the snow and wind converge upon the tiny figure sitting on the ice. Jamie feels that odd tilt once more—is it the balance shifting?—and the snow is dispersed, raining light snowflakes on their heads.

The former rabbit approached the shore rapidly. He is tall, an odd contrast to Sandy. Aster is taller than Jamie, possibly taller than Erin, and long rabbit's ears give him greater height. He has gray-blue hair—considerably tamer than Sandy's—that falls into small scruffy spikes to his ears. He is wearing a tunic-like outfit of rabbit fur, and tattoos mark his upper arms where Jamie recalls the markings on his rabbit body are. When he moves his head, Jamie can see a faint purple triangle on his forehead.

Now Tooth flies out, wings flashing against the moonlight, and lands quietly on the ice. The moonbeams thicken, and Jamie has to shield his eyes at the flurry of snow rushing past them to conceal the tiny hummingbird on the ice. The feeling of tilting is gone almost as quickly as it began, and Tooth stands, no longer a bird.

She is taller than Sandy by a head and nearly two heads shorter than Aster; her hair is a dark color, bright feathers woven into it, going every which way and following the paths of the curls. She wears a dress that seems formed from the brilliant-colored feathers of the hummingbird; wings stretch out from her shoulders and she flies back to the group by the shore. When she lands beside them, Jamie sees a green diamond glitter on her forehead.

He wonders what the markings mean, as North crosses the ice.

Jamie has become adjusted to the tilting sensation and the brightening moonbeams and the flood of snow flurries now; and he watches as North walks back to them from the faded moonlight, wolf no longer. He is now a giant of a man—taller than even Aster—and wearing a great wolf's fur coat. Gray-white ears poke from white hair, and bushy dark eyebrows cannot shadow the bright blue eyes below them. Jamie catches a glimpse of a wolf's tail swishing from behind the fur coat. A red square is centered on his forehead.

Now only Jack remains to take on his human form; the fox goes leaping across the ice, spraying snow as he bounds into the moonlight. The bright moonlight and the odd tilting sensation and the blast of snow herald the final transformation.

Jack appears to be the closest to Jamie's age; a boy with bright silver hair spiky and falling across his face in tufts. He is a head shorter than Aster. His eyebrows are dark, like North's, and his eyes are the laughing blue ones sported by the winter fox. He wears a cloak of fine silver fox's fur, and fox's ears are nearly invisible in his hair against the waves of spiky silver. His tail dances eagerly behind him as he lands at the lakeshore, and Jamie sees his marking—a blue hexagon on his forehead.

And Jack is also not wearing shoes, but should they matter to a fox that is of winter?

"What…" Jamie stares at the people his animal friends have become. His voice is small when he tries, "How is this…?"

It is Tooth who answers, and it is a strange thing, for Jamie to hear her voice outside of his head. "Jamie… We gave up everything to come here, fought for our very lives and for the bargain we had been given…and so for this night, the Moon gives us back what had been taken from us."

"What do you mean, taken?" Sophie speaks up now, glancing from face to face. She looks a little lost, and Jamie can't blame her; he too is more used to the animal forms of their companions, and the only truly recognizable things that have carried through to this transformation into somewhat-humans—even their animal attributes are not exactly the same when overshadowed by the humanness—are their eyes. Their eyes will never change.

The Guardians exchange glances. The former hummingbird is the one to answer, once again. "I suppose it's time you heard how we came to the valley."

Jamie feels a frown flit across his face. "But we have already." He remembers

North grins widely. "That only legend, not quite the same as real life, yeah?" One rough pat to Jamie's shoulder almost sends him falling into the snow. "We talk more inside; it is getting cold out here." The former wolf starts to wade back through the snow towards Erin's house. "And we only have so much time, so hurry it up, all of you!"

Jamie and Sophie look at each other, shrug, and follow after. The four other Guardians are quick to trail after, and it is not long before they are all settled in Erin's living room in front of a blazing fire.

The Guardians are definitely larger as humans, and all have arranged themselves around the room in mostly the same places as normal. North is sitting on the far end of the couch, opposite Jack's cushion, where the former fox lounges across the broad cushion like he owns it. Aster is seated on the floor beside Sophie's armchair, and Sophie herself is sitting cross-legged Indian-style in the armchair, still almost getting lost in the thick cushion padding of the chair. Sandy, like the cat he used to be, is sitting in front of the fire calmly, the light highlighting the cat's ears hidden in his hair. Tooth is sprawled into the second armchair, feathered dress dyed orange in the firelight. Erin is nowhere to be seen; but Jamie imagines that this story, like the moment of transformation, is something she has "seen many times"—or rather, heard many times.

He walks to the only free place, his spot on the middle cushion, and settles himself onto the thick padding. "So…what's so different about the legend Erin told us to what really happened?"

"It's not…too much different," Jack says, pulling at a loose seam on the arm of the couch. "Slightly longer, marginally less magical…but you deserve to hear it all the same."

"Long ago," Aster begins, his green eyes bright against the firelight, "there was a little valley, blessed by the Moon…"

Long ago, there was a little valley, blessed by the Moon. This place was the birthplace of legends, that first place where people looked to the stars and the sun and the moon, to the seasons and the changing earth around them, and saw spirits bringing that change. It was the first place where people believed, and for that, it had a special magic all its own. The Moon laid down a blessing on that valley, making it sacred ground…and also placing it in danger, for there were some spirits that cared not for loss of belief in themselves, if all others could be brought down with them to fade into nothingness.

Now, the Moon had a solution to this problem—find someone willing enough to protect the sacred valley. More than one someone, for that matter. But they had to be the right people—those with character, honor, strength, hope, kindness…they had to believe.

And so the Moon searched for nights on end; and as the Moon searched, the first—and greatest—enemy of the valley and its inhabitants approached the birthplace of legends. This was a man, given name long forgotten, taken by shadows and gifted with the form of a dog before the night of the new moon, his time of power. The dog could not cross the barrier, for he was still shadow, and as of yet, the Moon's barrier held. But the dark of the moon was coming, and the dog, given the new name of 'Pitch', for his dark shadows, was more than willing to wait.

Meanwhile, the Moon's searching eyes found a desert land, and among the shifting sand dunes there lived a man who had a gift of great dreams. The Moon called out to him, telling him of that distant valley and its importance, as well as the danger posed by the dog Pitch, now known as the Deceiver. For the price of going to the valley and guarding it from harm, the Moon offered the dreamer the boon of being able to share those wonderful dreams with others that needed them. However, this power would also change him; and he had the choice to refuse.

But the desert man was a kind soul, and the Moon's plight was great; and so he agreed to the bargain, becoming the Dreamer. The power transformed him to a cat, and it was in this form that he made his way to the sacred valley. He arrived there on the fifth night before the dark of the moon, and found the Deceiver there, waiting still. The Deceiver found this all very amusing—one little cat could not harm him; he could have swatted aside the Dreamer with one paw and without much effort.

The Dreamer allowed him to think that; but the Moon had explained that there would be others he would gather to their cause, others who would help keep the birthplace of legends untainted by paws of shadow. He did not know what they would be like, only that they were coming. And, like the Deceiver, he was willing to wait for the final outcome.

The Moon's gaze next found a scavenger deep in the outback, a man with a gift of surprising hope. To him the Moon explained the problem, and what he could do—trace the paw-steps of the Dreamer to find the sacred valley and defend it from that which would do it harm. The hope-giver was not at first convinced, not even after the Moon offered him the power to bring that hope of his to others, through the gifts of what they needed most. Knowing that the power would change him, the man was wary; but after a time to think, he agreed the Moon's plight was indeed one worthy of his assistance.

The Moon's power transformed the man into a rabbit once he accepted the mantle of the Giver. And so he made tracks for the little valley in the far north, arriving on the fourth night before the dark of the moon. The Dreamer was waiting there for him, welcoming him to the birthplace of legends. In the shadows, the Deceiver saw them, and knew what the Moon was planning. Still, he felt few could oppose him, and so settled to wait for his time of power.

The third would-be guardian of the sacred valley the Moon found deep in the heart of the jungle forests—there lived a woman with an extraordinary memory. Confronted with the plight of the Moon, not even the warning of the change the power brought would dissuade her—she wanted to help in any way she could. And so she was granted the ability to hold the memories of others, and to return them when they were needed most, to remind others of what life still had to offer. That power changed her into a hummingbird, and she swiftly flew on to the small northern valley, arriving on the third night before the dark of the moon. The Dreamer and Giver waited for her, and welcomed her gladly; she wondered if the Moon would be gathering an army to fight that of the Deceiver's growing horde of nightmarish creatures.

The Giver scoffed; he doubted the Moon would raise an army—how many would come to the birthplace of legends to defend it, knowing they could do so only cloaked in the guise of a form not truly theirs?

He was right on one account—there would be only two more chosen to protect the blessed valley.

The Moon was searching ever-still, and among the peaks of the southern mountains he found the fourth candidate—a man gifted with great strength and keen eyes. He did not need to be convinced of plausibility; but faced with the bargain the Moon offered—the strength of a thousand men and the sight to see through any and all disguises, for the same price as exacted from the others, the animal form and the agreement to protect the birthplace of legends—this he needed some time to think upon. Soon, though, he came to the conclusion that this was a life far better lived than the one he lived currently; and so he became a wolf and the Protector, making his way to the valley blessed by the Moon on the second night before the dark of the moon.

The Deceiver watched from the shadows, and felt his power grow. His time of power would soon be upon the valley, and what few protectors the Moon had procured, he felt would not be able to stand against his army.

The Moon, meanwhile, searched on, for time was running out and there was one last bright soul to find that would be most helpful in defending the northern valley. Now he looked to the north, where he found a boy who wandered the snow, guiding others through a particularly difficult forest. The Moon explained the coming danger and what the boy could do to help; to him, the Moon offered the gift to craft snow as he wished, and to bring joy with his presence, guiding lost souls to their proper path.

The boy considered the offer; but at last he too consented, being transformed to a fix of wintry colors, and so he made his way to the birthplace of legends. The other four waited for him, and were glad of his presence—five was a good, auspicious number. That night was the last night before the night of the new moon, and they did not know, entirely, what was coming.

The day passed quickly, and then it was the night only lit by distant stars; the Moon's silver light no longer filled the sky. The Deceiver had been waiting for this night, and, empowered by the great shadows, he gathered his horde of nightmares and shadow-creatures, and marched to the valley. He found what was waiting for him absurd—only five animals? The Moon had only gathered five animals? Foolish thinking, he laughed.

The Protector laughed too, saying they were all that was needed, despite the Deceiver's great army. And in the darker-than-black night, they met in battle.

It was a long fight, lasting much of the night, and by the end they were all exhausted. But they had remained firm in their conviction; they would not let their faith waver, for they fought for the valley, for all the legends that drew power from that valley, for the hopes and wishes and dreams of all those who had ever heard a legend spoken.

And when dawn's light touched the high mountain summits and chased away the shadows of that long night, the five were still standing, the valley untainted by darkness and the touch of the Deceiver's paws. The Deceiver retreated, snarling that they had only won one battle, and the war was still yet upon them. But they refused to give in; they had won, and they could do so again, at the next cycle of the dark of the moon.

Whispers ran through the village; for the inhabitants had witnessed the battle worthy of a legend all its own. The five animals the Moon had chosen to become the protectors of the valley known as the birthplace of legends became known themselves as the Guardians.

For their great service, for their unwavering faith, on the Moon's night of power, the Guardians were granted another gift—that gift of what they had given up in order to come to the valley…that of their true forms.

And for a night wreathed in moonlight, they were animals no longer.

Jamie blinks slowly and comes back to himself; it must be something in the valley, he wonders, something in the magic of the Moon that gives stories such power.

"But—" Sophie is the first to break the silence, sounding confused. "But—if this is your time of power, and you're human—then why, on the night of the new moon, was Pitch still a dog?"

A shadow crosses Aster's face. "Pitch…we're not sure about him," he says at length, "but…it's generally believed that the shadows he received power from twisted him; he no longer sees his human form as a gift. He much prefers that of the great shadow-dog, with his claws and teeth."

"He won't attack now, would he?" Jamie asks, casting a furtive glance towards the window, where the snow is painted silver in the light of the moon.

"No," North answers, shaking his head brusquely. "The Moon's magic is too strong tonight. He would not be able to cross barrier, not even with an army of shadows."

Jamie relaxes, but only slightly; he can all-too-well remember that night of darkness.

His eyes find the window, where the painted-silver world veritably glows. This is nothing like the night of shadows and fear…this is the night of light, and hope, and family.

Jamie gets up and walks to the window, peering out through the frosted panes. The moon, high above, is a bright silver circle that outshines all those tiny distant stars stretched out around it. He glances back, to the Guardians and Sophie gathered in the living room. The somber feeling still hangs over them; and with a last glance towards the moon, Jamie makes up his mind. He grabs his coat, tossing Sophie hers, and says, "Let's go outside."

Even though they came inside to escape the cold, no one protests; Jack's eyes twinkle, like he knows what Jamie is planning. They all troop outside, and Jamie catches sight of Erin, standing in the kitchen window. She raises a mug to the window, and he smiles—when they get back, there will be hot chocolate for everyone.

They are all standing outside; Jamie stoops and scoops up some snow in his hands, forming it into a ball. Sophie's eyes gleam when she sees what he's doing and quickly crouches to copy him. Jack is already amassing a pile of snowballs, and tossing them out with the age-old cry of "Snowball fight!"

Jamie flings his snowball at North's shoulder; the former wolf laughs and throws a snowball his way; Jamie rolls out of the way and the snowball hits Aster instead. The former rabbit wipes the snow from his face and raises a hand challengingly. "Oh, it's on!"

They divide into ragtag teams, Jamie and Sophie with Aster against North, Tooth, and Sandy. Jack pronounces himself the referee, and indeed he provides them with all the snowballs they need, but he also seems to take his position as one where he can hit anyone with a snowball and not face repercussions.

Eventually, it just devolves into an all-out war; everyone against everyone else. Jamie hoards his pile of snowballs like gold and manages to hit Sandy in the leg from behind his snow fort. The former cat smiles good-naturedly and Jamie finds himself smacked with a snowball before he realizes he needs to dodge.

By the light of the full moon, they race about, their weapons exploding upon contact in great slushy showers. Jamie at last leans back against his snow fort, thoroughly tired out, and yells over the edge, "Truce! Truce!" Snowballs everywhere are dropped, to make little pyramids of snow sitting about haphazardly, as Jamie and Sophie and the Guardians all make their way back to Erin's, where, true to Jamie's thought, Erin has made hot chocolate for everyone.

Jamie sits on his cushion on the couch and sips at his beverage, sighing quietly in content. There was nothing like a good snowball fight to get someone into a happier mood.

"That was fun," Jack grins as he collapses onto his cushion, slurping down his hot chocolate.

"We should do it the next full moon, too," Jamie suggests, "like an ongoing game, until the snow disappears."

"Up here we don't get much snow melt," Aster snorts, "so this snowball fight may go on for almost the whole year before you realize it."

"Sure, why not?" Jamie shrugs his shoulders, finishing his cup and handing it off to Erin, smiling at her gratefully. His aunt smiles back, her green eyes twinkling, as she goes about gathering up the cups. "Almost time," she says, pausing in the doorway. "Moon set soon, bring out sun."

"You'll have to turn back into animals, won't you?" Jamie asks, reminded now of their human forms were only temporary.

"Yes," Tooth smiles, gently, and doesn't seem all that troubled by it. "We'll still be here in the morning; we'll just be the way you first saw us. And you can always still talk to us, so the only thing that's missing is that this night we're human."

"Don't you miss it? Being human?" Sophie questions curiously.

"'Course we do," Aster huffs. "But you get to accepting it, when it keeps happening. And besides, being an animal isn't so bad."

"Indeed," North says, grinning. "It can even be fun to be a wolf, so don't be acting sorry for us! We knew what we accepted, when given power from Moon."

Jamie nods carefully, finding it hard to feel sorry for them when they are so obviously all right with their end of the bargain; he looks outside, to where the silver light is fading, slowly. "So you'll change back now?"

Aster peers outside too, and glances back. "As good a time as any; the moonlight's fading, so we may as well get a move on."

They make their way out to the frozen lake, Jack once more thickening the ice. He is the first to cross the ice, but he does not go all the way to the center, for the moon's reflection has moved. He stands squarely at the center of the bright glow, and as the snow swirls about him, the fading moonlight flashes briefly and Jamie feels like for a brief moment, he is falling; then the familiar form of the silver fox is bounding across the ice to them. Hey, Jamie! Jack crows, and Jamie bends to pet the fox's ears. "Hey, Jack," he says, smiling.

North makes his way across the ice; the transformation back to great wolf taking less than a heartbeat. He pads off the ice looking satisfied with his lot, and takes his space between Jamie and Sophie. Now Tooth makes her way out, the feathers on her dress making faint trails in the snow that had accumulated upon the frozen lake.

It seems to be taking shorter time, as the hummingbird Guardian flies back to them, landing on Jamie's shoulder neatly. Aster is next, striding carefully onto the ice, like he thinks he'll slip—not an illegitimate concern, when Jack is involved; the green-eyed gray rabbit bounds across the ice back to them, skidding to a stop next to Sophie.

Sandy is the last to go, standing in the circle of fading moonlight. Jamie blinks, and the sensation is so quick he wonders if he imagined it, as the cat Guardian is the last to make his way back from the ice, leaping onto the snowy bank.

The Moon's time of power has come to an end, and the cycle turns on.

As they walk away from the lake, Jamie looks up into the sky, the moon's silver form beginning to slip beyond the mountain summits, and tracing a faint ribbon across the stars winking out—

A small aurora, nothing like the great one that had given Jamie hope during his darkest hour; even so, this aurora is still all the colors of the rainbow, rippling across the lightening night sky. He smiles; is it the Moon's way of reminding him?

Even though the power of the Moon is yet again on the wane, he knows now what to expect—he won't be striking any more deals with Pitch, especially nothing close to the new moon. And even if there is another battle—he has faith in his comrades, he has faith in the power of the valley. Just like before, they can win the night.

For even though there is the coming night of darkness, he knows that after it, there will always be a night of light.

And he will be ready, waiting for it.