Not that we are going anywhere outside the city. We couldn’t even if we wanted to. We can travel between cities in the Between but not out in the world. Our footsteps can only go as far as the city boundaries. Beyond that is an invisible wall that separates the wild and the city. We can bang into the barrier, but we cannot get through it—not unless we take off our stars.

After ten minutes of walking, we reach a rather shabby store located between a clothing boutique called Makanjee’s and a place selling silver pots and pans. The windows of our intended destination are entirely opaque, as if the products inside are too precious to be viewed by the passing riffraff.

A bell rings when we push the door open and pile in; it is a sonorous sound that echoes in the dark interior of the store.

Large canisters full of colored sugar make up the entire inventory of the store. But see, this isn’t the sugar you will find in a grocery store frequented by humans. No, the sugar crystals offered by this store have rather esoteric qualities that customers would do well to be aware of. We have, on occasion, sampled some of the sugar from this place. It caused us to stumble into dreams where flowers bled crimson and the sun was a threat in the sky. Another time the sugar gave us wings, and for thirty minutes we flew. Yet another time, the sugar turned us all into stone, and we learned the true meaning of stillness. The effect wore off, but we have a newfound sympathy for statues.

We haven’t been to this store in years, but nothing seems to have changed in the time we were away. We wait at the counter, and a minute later the proprietor emerges from the back room with a wary look in his eyes and a weapon in his hands. We look at the staff he is holding with great interest.

Valentina gives Paheli a look, and Paheli looks wounded. “I haven’t done anything to him. I swear!”

The not-human man’s name is Josefa, and he has always been friendly to us, so the hostility we see on his face is unexpected.

The staff, made of some kind of wood, is hooked at the top and has a vaguely menacing aura. It is a magician’s staff; that much we know. We also know that it is used to direct magic to or at anyone the wielder desires. We are of the Between, however, and untouchable, at least by magic.

Josefa relaxes infinitesimally when he recognizes us, and his expression reorganizes itself into something friendlier. He lowers the staff and places it out of sight.

“So, you are not going to try to kill us?” Paheli asks. Valentina pinches her. “I’m just asking!”