We don’t have time for this.

“We don’t have time for anything, but that’s not going to stop us from living while we still can,” Croi replies to her other self. “Don’t pretend you aren’t curious, because I won’t believe you.”

Croi takes her other self’s silence as acquiescence and moves forward with the crowd of kin, all of whom are too immersed in the experience to pay attention to her. She feels as invisible as she did in the human city. The first stand Croi visits is filled with exquisitely crafted string instruments, most of which are strange to Croi as she has never experienced kin music before. The fae in charge of the stand tells visitors that these instruments are a result of a collaboration between Aer and Talamh artisans.

One of the kin present at the stand is a musician, and she plays several to demonstrate their high quality. The first one she plays makes the sound of the wind haunting a full-moon night. The next one spills the sound of raindrops hitting the surfaces of leaves. Yet another expresses the giggles of a river flowing over rocks. Croi is instantly enamored.

“If we live, I’m going to learn to play one of those,” she says to her other self.

I don’t indulge in impossibilities.

“Bah.”

The next stand displays jewelry made of glass beads with tiny flames captured within. These were made by Talamh and Tine artisans combining their magicks and are in high demand. From the conversations Croi overhears, the living flames in the glass beads are not just beautiful to look at but also serve practical purposes. For one, they provide warmth, and for another, they are an alternate source of energy should the kin wearing the jewelry happen to be running low.

The flame jewelry is sold in exchange for Tine spells. Croi, of course, has none to offer, so she moves on. Before she can reach the third, and the most anticipated, stand, she catches a glimpse of a fae boy with the sun in his eyes.

“Should I follow him?” Croi asks the one inside.

Will you listen to me if I say no?

“No.”

Torn between her desire to explore the delicious and savory aromas emanating from the next stand and talking to Irial, Croi finally chooses the fae boy. Only because she can’t afford to buy any of the food. She follows the Irial-shaped figure out of the building, up a flight of stairs, down two, and across a pergola full of sunflower flings doing somersaults in the air. Somewhat abruptly, she finds herself in a strange garden without any kin around. The Irial-shaped figure is nowhere in sight.

All sounds fade, and gloom drapes itself over the stationary figures populating the garden. Croi looks around the place and is shocked still by a moment of horror. She recognizes this garden—not because she has been here before, but because Irial spoke of it when answering her question about what happens when kin break their word.