“Hey! We’re not playing!” shouted Aru.

But the sign wouldn’t listen. It moved behind a pack of empty grocery carts. The carts swiveled on their wheels in unison, like a herd of antelope. The sign sneezed and the grocery carts scattered off in a huff.

“Why is it making this so difficult?” grumbled Mini. She had almost walked into a family of tortoise-shelled beings.

Boo flapped his wings. “You can’t just ask for things you need. You have to chase them down! Make yourself known as a worthy recipient! I’ll distract it. Then it’s up to you two.”

Boo strutted back and forth in front of the sign, as though he didn’t care about it. The sign gradually lowered itself to the ground. It reminded Aru of the way a cat oozes down from a couch, curious to investigate. Boo walked faster and turned a corner.

The sign bent around to see where he had gone…and Boo jumped out at it.

“GOTCHA!” he shouted.

The sign whirled. It arched like a Halloween cat. When it had its back to Aru and Mini, they crept forward. Aru slunk behind a palm tree, which hissed, “You have no manners, child!” Mini brought out her compact mirror and pulled out an illusion of a candy.

“Heeeeere, sign!” she cooed, waving it around. “Come here, sign! Come here!”

The second the sign turned, Aru ran up and caught it by one of its dangling tassels. Instantly, the sign went limp. It puddled onto the floor, forming a circle. The circle telescoped into a tunnel. Amethyst steps spiraled down into the dark. Boo perched on Aru’s head and looked down the shaft.

“Ladies first.”

That Was So Last Season

No way was Aru going down those stairs first. And Mini looked like she was about to faint.

“Age before beauty,” said Aru, grinning at Boo.

Sherrilyn, her babysitter, liked to say that line whenever the food trucks came to the museum and she wanted to order before Aru. Aru didn’t mind, though. At least it meant someone thought she was pretty. With a pang, Aru realized she hadn’t thought about Sherrilyn since the second she lit the lamp. She hoped she was okay.

Boo grumbled, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he flew into the darkness complaining about the “privilege of youth.” “In my day, we treated our elders with respect!” he huffed.

Aru and Mini walked down the steps. For the first time, Aru felt…hopeful. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like she’d done anything heroic beyond trying to save herself.

But she had two companions on her side, and so far, aside from lighting the lamp, she hadn’t made anything worse. Was she a heroine if all she did was fix a mistake she made? Or was it heroic because she was willing to fix it in the first place?

Aru wasn’t sure what to expect ahead. The category THINGS YOU NEED seemed to cover a wide range of possibilities. For example, she needed water, sleep, food, and air.

At the bottom of the staircase, wind rushed past her. But it felt like three different things one after the other. At first, it was a gust of hot desert air that left her throat parched. Then it became the kind of sticky, humid air that felt like summer in the South. Her pajama top clung to her back, damp with sweat. In the next second, frost spangled across her skin and Aru shuddered with cold.

Beside her, Mini inhaled sharply.

Aru looked up, her eyes widening. Here there were no shopping aisles, just forest.

Aru and Mini stood in the center, Boo circling overhead. Around them, the forest was divided into six pieces, like a pie. In one section, frost sleeved the tree branches and icicles dangled like ornaments. In the next, a heavy downpour of rain made the trunks difficult to see. The third section was a riot of blossoms, the rich earth bursting with flowers and perfume. The fourth section was bright and dry, sunlight dappling the leaves. In the fifth, the leaves had turned scarlet and gold. The sixth section was a rich dark green.

“Where are we?” asked Mini.

“It’s like we’re stuck in all the seasons,” said Aru, her voice soft with awe.

“We are,” said Boo. “We’re in the Court of the Ritus. The Six Seasons. Be on guard. They’re brilliant, but horrible.”

Aru’s heart raced. “Why? Do they eat people?”

“Worse,” said Boo, his feathers ruffling. “They’re artists.”

“I thought there were only four seasons?” asked Mini.

“Four?” repeated a voice from somewhere in the trees. “How boring! How bourgeois!”

“I don’t know about that,” said another voice, this time behind Aru. “I could make summer endless. Imagine that. An installation of infinite fire.”

“People would burn up,” said the first voice.

“Good! I don’t like people anyway.”

Figures from two different seasons made their way toward Aru, Mini, and Boo. A pale-skinned man with frosted hair and silver eyes sauntered forward first. He wore a shiny blazer and pants that looked as if they were made of glass. When he came closer, Aru saw that it wasn’t glass, but ice. Fortunately, it wasn’t see-through, but white.

“I’m Winter,” he said coldly. “I’m underwhelmed by your acquaintance.”

“Summer,” said the other, extending a warm hand.

As Summer turned, the light seemed to change the spirit’s facial features from feminine to masculine and back again.