<blockquote>You’ll smell it before you see it — scents of ticklish pollen, braised roots. The market doesn’t like to let itself be found too easily. I found it by accident nineteen years ago, stumbling from Atgeld Library in that gossamer hour when the sun begins to warm a world still living in night. They tell me the walls between things are thinner at dawn and dusk.
But you, my daughter, needn’t worry about all that. They’re expecting you.</blockquote>
