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"Just wait until you've danced with someone mysterious. Then you can properly thank me."

I rolled my eyes, although the suggestion held a certain appeal.

There was something undeniably exciting about the anonymity of the evening. In Witch Harbor, I was accustomed to recognizing clients, colleagues, and acquaintances everywhere I went. Tonight, I could be another woman in a beautiful dress, with no one expecting me to organize anything or be especially sensible.

I watched the dancers sweep past and wondered what it might feel like to meet someone without thinking ahead to where he would fit into my ordinary life.

The thought made me smile.

Taryn was studying the crowd when her expression changed.

"Oh, my."

I followed her gaze.

"What?"

"Near the far side of the dance floor. Tell me you're seeing what I'm seeing."

At first, I couldn't make out what had captured her attention. Guests crowded the space between the tables and the musicians, their elaborate costumes forming a constantly shifting sea of velvet, satin, feathers, and glittering masks.

Then the people nearest the far wall moved aside.

For a moment, I could only stare.

He stood near the far wall, partly concealed by a cluster of admirers. I could see dark trousers, an exposed torso covered in intricate markings unlike anything I'd seen before, and a black eye mask that shadowed much of his face. But it was what rose behind his shoulders that stopped me.

He had wings.

Enormous black feathers rose above his shoulders and swept downward, layered so intricately that even the folded wings made people give him room. For a moment I forgot about the music.

I'd seen impressive costumes before, but nothing like this.

The feathers caught the chandelier light at their edges, then darkened where they overlapped against his back.

"Those can't be real," I whispered, though they certainly looked it.

Taryn nodded. "I wonder how long it took someone to build those."

The man shifted his stance, and the wings moved with him in a smooth, subtle motion.

I edged a little closer to Taryn to see around a taller guest.

There had to be a mechanism somewhere, perhaps a harness fitted with articulated supports. I couldn't see any sign of one.

A couple approached him, apparently asking about the wings. He inclined his head to listen, and one of them reached toward a feather before stopping short.

The stranger said something I couldn't hear.

The couple laughed, and the woman gestured enthusiastically toward his costume.

"He must have won every costume contest he's ever entered," Taryn said.

I scarcely heard her.

The stranger turned slightly, and the feathers lifted at his shoulders. The black mask and uneven light kept most of his face in shadow, but I caught a glimpse of his mouth.

I found myself wondering how he'd sound when he laughed, and whether he'd be as interesting once people stopped asking him about his costume.