The Thief Queen's Daughter by Elizabeth Haydon

like pearls floating in them.
    “What do you have?” Clemency asked, looking like she wished she hadn’t.
    The potion seller, a bald man with a thick black beard, opened his hands wide.
    “Ah, now, miss, as you can see, we have just about anything you could imagine and your heart might desire. You want to be taller, thinner, more beautiful? You want to be stronger, sleep better at night, or go without sleep at all? You want to be able to speak to animals and have them understand? You want to grow a third hand, or an eye in the back of your head, or sprout wings on your feet? You want to make your enemy’s ears seal shut, his nose grow a foot long, or his mouth vanish? You want to find something that you lost long ago, have a wish come true, find true love?” His dark eyes sparkled. “Everyone wants that one. Can I interest you in a fine potion to make someone fall in love? It can work on anyone, no matter how reluctant.”
    “Really?” asked Clem.
    “Yes, indeed,” assured the man. “Would you like one?”
    “Maybe for Char,” Clem said, poking him in the ribs. Char scowled at her.
    “Char doesn’t need that,” said Ven merrily. “He’s already got Felitza.”
    “Not for him,” Clemency said. “For her.”
    “How much is the one that makes someone’s mouth vanish?” Char asked.
    “Twenty gold crowns,” said the man. Char sighed, looked at Clem, then shook his head.
    “Wouldn’t you like to be able to speak with animals, little girl?” the potion seller asked Saeli. “I can sell you a potion that would make it possible.”
    Saeli just smiled, and the other children laughed.
    “Come on, let’s keep looking around,” said Ven, walking away from the potion booth. “Let’s see if we can find the fortune-teller.”
    They walked past kiosks where giant puppets shaped like butterflies and birds were being sold, past muffin sellers and men wandering the streets with large barrels of roasted turkey legs. Char clutched his stomach again.
    “As soon as we find the fortune-teller, I’m gettin’ somethin’ to eat,” he muttered. “This is torture, bloody torture .”
    “Whether we find her or not, we’ll have noon-meal after this,” Ven promised. “Even though you would still be serving breakfast if we were back at the inn.”
    They passed a large booth above which colorful kites were fluttering in the air until they came to a huge fountain, splashing silvery water at its edges.
    In the center of the fountain was a large display of what looked like dollhouse-sized cottages, stores, taverns, and houses. They formed a street scene very much like Kingston or Vaarn, with hundreds of little human figures positioned in the sorts of places they would be if it were a real city. Groups of toy women carrying baskets seemed to be talking together, toy men on rooftops appeared as if they were fixing the roofs, hammering with toy tools. Mechanical merchants showed their wares to toy shoppers. A tiny wooden goose girl drove a flock of even tinier wooden geese through the streets. All the figures were moving and making sound, apparently powered by the force of the fountain’s splashing water.
    Many bright coins sparkled at the bottom of a deep channel filled with water around the outer ring of the fountain.
    “Do you think this is the fountain Mr. Coates meant?” asked Nick, staring at it.
    Clem glanced around. “I don’t see another one.”
    Saeli pointed ahead of them.
    “Dream seller,” she said in her low, scratchy voice.
    The others followed her finger.
    A booth formed of deep blue silk stood to one side of a round black tent, its drapes pulled back and tacked with filmy fabric that resembled clouds. Hints of fog swept out from beneath its drapes, and above the doorway a moon-shaped sign read DREAMS.
    “Well, there it is, if you’re still interested,” Clemency said to Char.
    “I never said I was interested,” Char replied curtly. “I just don’t get how you buy a dream. I bet these people