“I was a-fearin’ this,” he said, “what with the drought’n all. The lights hole ain’t never been above water before. That’s bad enough. But then you went’n had sand sucked out.”

“Why’s that bad?” Semelee said. “I think that’s good.”

“Good? How can it be good? The light used to have to come up through the sand and the water, and even then, look what it did to us. Now there ain’t hardly nothin’ in the way.”

Semelee grinned. “Ain’t it cool?”

“Nuh-uh. That ain’t cool. That’s scary.”

Jack knelt at the edge and peered into the depths. He didn’t like deep holes, at least not since the spring when he’d had a bad experience with one out on Long Island. But that one hadn’t had a bottom. This one…

He found a thumb-size stone and dropped it. He heard a satisfying plop, saw ripples on the water far below.

…this one definitely had a bottom.

But for how long?

“What are these lights like?” he asked.

Semelee squatted close beside him. He glanced up briefly and noticed the others wandering off. The two of them had the hole to themselves.

“Like nothin’ you ever seen in your life.” Her voice was full of hushed wonder as she spoke. “I mean, whoever heard of lights comin’ outta the ground?”

Jack had seen light shooting up from a hole in the earth…just last spring.

“What color are these lights?”

“Sorta like pinkish orange, but that ain’t right. Every time you think you got the color pinned, it melts into somethin’ else just a teeny bit different. I can’t describe it. You gotta see it to believe it.”

Jack believed. He’d seen a light just like she described.

“How often do they come?” Jack asked, knowing the answer.

“Twice a year.”

“No kidding. When’s the next show?”

“Tonight.”

“But—” Jack caught himself. Anya had said the nexus points opened during the equinoxes, but that wasn’t until tomorrow night. He knew; he’d checked. But if he admitted that, Semelee would realize that he knew way more than he should.

She frowned at him. “But what?”

What to say? “But that’s too soon!” he blurted. “I won’t be able to get my cameras set up for—”

“Who said anything bout cameras?”

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? I take some pictures of the lights and we sell them to the papers, to National Geographic, to—”

“Wait-wait-wait,” she said, waving her hands in front of his face. “What makes you think you’re gonna take pictures? Nobody takes no pictures of the lights.”

“No exceptions?”

“No way, no how. As a matter of fact, I can’t even let you see them, cause then you’d talk about them.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”