The altars glittered with gold leaf, the votive candles sputtered in vast rows.

The candles sputtered and went out.

Lady Imeyne's candle sputtered and then flamed again.

Their candles sputtered and guttered out, the flames driven away by its enormous force.

A candle sputtered between them.

On the wooden altar, a candle sputtered in the final throes of life.

In the time a candle might sputter twice, the cloud was gone, and Ilissa with it.

A few candles still sputtered.

But though they racked their brains until the candles sputtered, their endless round of schemes all came to nothing.

A coarse candle, stuck in a bottle, sputtered beside it.