At the waterfall shrine where we agreed to meet, Matthew and a group of children are already waiting.
“Zoe! We’ve been waiting for you!”
But Maggie isn’t here.
“Where’s Maggie?”
I only agreed to this because she asked me. Matthew and I aren’t exactly close.
“Oh, she’s just running a little late,” he says. “Let’s get ready to recreate the old summer festival before she arrives! I asked Old Inga about it.”
Since we’re doing this anyway, we might as well follow tradition. If there’s even a chance it could work, I want to try.
Matthew’s brought a whole pack basket stuffed with firewood. He and the other boys start arranging it into a square.
A bonfire? For a rain dance? My magic textbook says fire and water don’t get along.
Or maybe... maybe that’s why it works? Because they’re opposites?
I’d ask Selina, but this is all a secret from her.
Honestly, I’m starting to regret getting involved when Maggie finally arrives, panting and clutching a tambourine.
“Sorry I’m late! Everyone kept asking me to help with things!”
“It’s okay,” Matthew says calmly. “Don’t worry about it.”
I suppose he is kind. I can’t stand mean boys.
Maggie and I examine the neat little firewood square.
“So, we light it and dance around it while singing, right?”
I didn’t speak to Old Inga myself, so I need to double-check.
“That’s right. I went with Matthew to ask her. It’s kind of weird using fire for a rain dance, huh?”
“Yeah! It’s gonna be so hot!”
There aren’t many girls here. Maybe they didn’t want to trek all the way to the waterfall... or maybe Matthew just found it easier to invite boys?
Besides Maggie and me, only Old Inga’s granddaughter showed up.
Maybe Matthew’s not popular with girls? Or maybe the girls are scared of Maggie. She does act like his girlfriend.
While I’m mulling that over, the boys finish stacking the firewood. They’ve built a tidy square with a small mound of dried grass and kindling in the center.
That’s where we’ll light the fire, and once the flames catch, the rain dance begins.
“All right, everyone make a circle! Let’s start the rain dance!”
As expected—once the fire gets going, it’s hot!
But at Matthew’s call, the children form a circle around the bonfire.
I pull out my harp and sit in front of the shrine, plucking the summer festival melody.
Last time, Matthew danced with a drum, and Maggie played her tambourine. A few kids have brought bells this time, too, so it’s starting to sound kinda festive.
Maybe the water goddess really will wake up.
I keep the Aqua spell phrase in mind as I play.
“Zoe, come dance with us!”
Maggie calls out, but there’s no way I can move around while holding a harp.
A flute, sure—but not this.
Still... watching everyone dance so happily makes my feet ache to join in.
I can’t help sighing. If only this thing could play itself...
The idol-wannabe girl in my past life remembers all sorts of magical music gadgets. Even our home piano had a button that let it replay songs on its own.
“Refrain♪” I half-sing without thinking—and suddenly, the harp keeps playing, all on its own.
I blink, startled, then quietly place it behind the shrine and rise to my feet.
“Let’s hope nobody notices the harp is playing itself...”
I glance at the circle of dancers—and oh my. Are they in a trance?
They’re glowing faintly, each one releasing a soft shimmer of magical energy.
Especially Matthew and Maggie. Probably because they’re the leaders of this whole thing.
“This has to stop soon.”
If it keeps going, they might collapse from magical exhaustion. Selina definitely would’ve stepped in by now.
But I... I got swept up in their wish to avoid becoming serfs.
“All right, let’s just make it rain already!”
I pull my flute from my pocket and join the circle, playing as I move.
Between the harp and the flute, the festival melody rings bright and strong. Notes, glowing pale blue, drift into the sky like rising fireflies.
Oof, I can feel my magic draining. No wonder Selina scolds me for being reckless with it.
I need to stop this before—
Plip.
Something wet hits my cheek.
“It’s raining!”
The dancers, still half-tranced, suddenly stop. They hold out their hands in wonder, laughing as the raindrops fall.
“We did it! Our rain dance worked!”
Maggie beams at Matthew, and then they both turn to me.
“Zoe, thank you for helping us!”
I smile awkwardly. I’m not entirely sure this rain is because of us… but it certainly feels like it.
The gentle sprinkle turns into a steady downpour.
“Everyone, be careful getting home! And remember, don’t tell any adults about the rain dance!”
Matthew waves the children off.
Old Inga’s granddaughter runs hand-in-hand with a boy from a neighboring house, giggling.
I stay behind to retrieve my harp from behind the shrine. Hopefully, I can grab it before Maggie and Matthew see.
No such luck.
“Hey... do you hear summer festival music playing?”
Maggie! Why didn’t she run off like everyone else?
“Zoe, where’s that harp you brought?”
Boys who notice everything are the worst. At least, that’s what Selina’s romance novels say.
Now... how the heck am I gonna explain this?