She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleam’d upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment’s ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
Like twilight’s, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From Maytime and the cheerful dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
CHAPTER ONE The tiny girl ran full pelt across the empty plain. Her blue dress made her stand out against the dull grass, like a rainbow in a grey sky. All she possessed was a large backpack, full of everything she needed to survive. Her knees were sore and grazed, but she didn’t care. All…