She opened the closet door onto the iridescent swirl. They walked through without hesitation, and she was instantly bathed in moonlight. She let her eyes adjust to the pale light while her ears adjusted to the cacophony of voices from the farmers market below.
“I brought payment for Rin,” Jack said. Shucking off his backpack, he unzipped it and pulled out a plastic container. Inside was a slice of chocolate cake with raspberry jam, squished.
“He’s a professional baker,” Calisa said. “I’m not sure my attempt at a cake is going to count as payment.” She’d learned through Auntie Zee’s notes that the Night Market took payment in coins called lercats. Or the occasional cursed object.
“It’s achocolatecake.” He grinned at her. “I asked Mulligan what counts as currency in the Night Market, besides lercats. Apparently chocolate is ludicrously expensive in Elyacor, due to the high demand—you don’t want to know how much he paid for his hot chocolate ingredients. He advised that we bring a couple of slices, one for Rin and one to splurge on something to ‘console our weary hearts.’ This was after waxing poetically about chocolate, the market under the stars, and the ephemeral nature of life for about fifteen minutes.”
“He’s a bit dramatic,” Calisa said.
Jack returned the slices to his backpack and zipped it shut.“Auntie Zee once made the mistake of showing him some old vampire movies. He loved them.”
“Wait. Are you telling me he’s like that not because he comes from whatever world he comes from, but because he likes Dracula? Specifically, Bela Lugosi’s Dracula?”
“Also, he reads a lot of Shakespeare.” Swinging his pack over his shoulder, he grinned at her and headed down the slope toward the market. She hurried to catch up. Her feet skidded on the slick grass, and they ended up half sliding and half running until they reached the first tent. She stopped several feet before colliding into the canvas, and he grabbed her hand to stop his own forward momentum. He lost his balance, and they collapsed into a heap next to the tent.
Jack burst out laughing, and it was infectious. Soon, she was laughing too. She didn’t know why she was laughing when Auntie Zee was still missing, but under the starry sky, with Jack, she couldn’t help feeling like it was all going to be okay.
He got up and held out his hand. She took it and hopped to her feet.
It felt like the most natural thing in the world to slip her hand into his as they strolled. On either side, the vendors called to them, each claiming to have the most beautiful, the most unique, the most unusual wares. She knew they should head to Rin’s stall, but once they did…If Rin had no news of Auntie Zee, she’d have no choice but to call her moms and admit that Auntie Zee had pulled a disappearing act, and then all this would end. No more trips through the portals. And if hedidhave news of Auntie Zee…well, then all this would end too. Auntie Zee would put a stop to their adventures. So,Calisa wasn’t eager to reach Rin. She wanted to enjoy their last stroll through the Night Market.
Jack didn’t seem to be in a hurry either.He thinks she doesn’t want to be found.
They lingered by a stall that sold scarves that shimmered like the sky—you could see sunset spread across the fabric, deepening from pale blue to rose and orange, then to deep blue scattered with stars. Jack wrapped one around Calisa’s shoulders, and she held the fabric up to her eyes, watching it twinkle between her fingers.
“Beautiful,” she said.
“Yes,” he agreed.
He was looking at her, not the scarf.
Calisa felt herself blush as she unwound the scarf and placed it neatly back on the table. She headed for the next stall, which had a towering stack of hats. “Here, you try this on.”
Picking up one, she dropped it onto his head, and his hair instantly lengthened and deepened to coal-black. When she lifted the hat, his hair retreated to its ordinary length.
“Handsome,” she told him.
“Twelve lercats,” the vendor interjected.
“Just browsing for now.” Jack returned the hat and then patted his head as if to reassure himself his hair was still there.
They kept strolling toward Rin’s stall, slowly. If it weren’t for the ever-present worry about Auntie Zee, it would have felt like a date. She wondered if Jack felt it too. There was no not-awkward way to ask, but she kept sneaking glances at him as they browsed. What did he think of her?
Lingering by a glittering stall, they studied a spread ofjewels that crawled around the table before nesting into the settings of necklaces and bracelets.
“Jewelites,” the vendor told them. “Rare crabs that live within caves. Once they find a setting they like, they’ll reside within it for decades.”
“They’re alive?” Calisa leaned over to touch what looked like a bright green jewel. She would’ve thought it was an emerald, except it instantly skittered away.
“The jewel creates the jewelry,” the vendor claimed grandiosely.
She wanted to ask why and how, but before the questions poured out of her mouth, she heard a sweet cascade of notes. It transfixed her. The notes seemed to dance in the air, drifting up toward the stars. “Do you hear that?” she asked Jack.
“Yeah.” He twisted, trying to see its source.
Pulling Jack with her, Calisa followed the lure of the music. Two rows over, she found it: a harpist, playing at a stall that sold dozens of small, colorful bottles. The harp was more elaborate than any Calisa had ever seen. It had three tiers of golden and silver strings, and it towered over the seated musician. Eyes closed, the harpist ran her fingers over the strings so rapidly that the music cascaded like a waterfall.
“Come and view the rarest potions ever sold,” the vendor called, his voice slipping between the notes as if it too were part of the music.
