“I didn’t know you were the stick-your-head-in-the-sand kind.” Valentina can be quite acerbic at times. Lots of times. Almost always.

“Yes, I feel a keen kinship with ostriches. I don’t fly either, you know.”

“Maybe you should try out for a career in stand-up comedy someday.”

“Is it my wonderfully lavender hair?”

“We are here.” Talei interrupts our conversation.

We turn and look at the magical entrance to one of the oldest markets in the world. The human hours are from the morning till early in the evening, but for the middle-world citizens, the Grand Bazaar never closes. Invisible to human eyes, a separate entrance exists for middle worlders. These gates are protected by their region’s ruler, not that we know much about him. All of us, but especially Valentina, are allergic to authority. The two guards at the entrance both look like they need bathroom breaks, so we walk past them quietly without making a single attempt at provoking them.

I am suddenly glad that Taraana is not with us right now. Danger blooms in all corners here, and though his glasses hide a lot of who he is, I’d much rather not tempt fate, because fate is not as resistant to temptations as I am. We don’t know how long Baarish’s arms are.

Anyway, it is almost eight in the evening, which is when the human vendors lock their stores and make for home.

We keep our heads down and walk past groups of middle worlders standing just inside the entrance. They don’t give us a second look, and we’re glad to be beneath their notice.

A whiff of perfume scents the air; the sound of voices haggling over items; stores filled with light pouring from intricately crafted lamps, exquisite tea sets, luxurious rugs, glinting jewelry, mounds of baklava, and so many other things. I almost wish Taraana were here. He would be just as dazzled as I am.

The magic is so potent here that I feel like I’m drowning in it. Would Taraana glow brighter here? How would he like this place? I wonder.

Why do I keep thinking about him? My brain seems to be growing maudlin in its old age.

“Where do we look?” Talei whispers to us.

We follow the magic through streets, around corners, and into a narrow alley, which has teahouses on either side of it. I am forever amazed by the sheer size of the Grand Bazaar. Very little light spills from the teahouses onto the main pathway, and no other creature, human or magical, is visible in the dimness. Hizrat told me Tabassum Naaz usually whiles away her evenings at one of these teahouses, though personally I can’t see the attraction. How much tea can you drink?