Then out of the night sped something swift and bright—something that moved almost too quickly to be seen. It was brighter than fire, and the shadows cowered. And then there was laughter. The bright laughter of mischief.
And in a single perfect moment the children saw what looked to be a spritelike boy holding a staff with a brilliant moonlit glow at its end. He seemed to glisten like beads of light. He stood calmly amidst the chaos, his laughter bringing forth swirls of mist that hovered in the air. Then, in an instant, he blurred into a hundred shafts of refracting light that came together around the children like a protective cone, driving back the shadowy blanket. Then he blistered out in all directions, driving back every shadowy creature that could be seen.
When the shadows vanished, so did the spectral boy, leaving behind only a breeze of misty laughter that drifted over the woods like an echo.
