Fractured Infinities

Kestrel

As we leave the Golden Boar once again, the kitsune is practically vibrating. He bounces down the lane, tails swishing from side to side, then turns a cartwheel out of pure joy. His eyes shine. I find the transformation rather remarkable – he was fairly high-energy before, but this is something else. I wonder if chocolate acts as a drug to kitsune? I haven't heard that it does, but then, I don't know much about them.

Ben smiles at the kitsune's antics, and the kitsune grins back. "Come on, come on, come on! Kestrel should be just down this lane, and then a left here, and then a right here and here and here..."

"Doesn't that bring us back to where we were?" Ben murmurs to me.

"It's the Goblin Market," I reply. "Space doesn't behave normally here." In fact, I'm fairly sure the market doesn't obey any of the laws of Euclidean geometry, though I'm not sure how that's possible. But it's certainly true that two lanes, which should in theory be parallel, can intersect, while three right turns don't necessarily bring you back to your starting point. There's no consistency that I know of – sometimes, three right turns will do exactly as they're supposed to, while other times you might be back at your starting point in only two, or in four – which suggests to me that the market doesn't obey other geometries either. Instead, it's as if each lane, or even each stall, has its own rules.

While I ponder this, the kitsune adroitly guides us through the market, keeping up a nonstop stream of chatter. The huntsman does his best to keep up, but the rapid-fire flood of words is nearly indistinguishable at times. So he mostly smiles and nods, which doesn't seem to bother the kitsune at all.

After approximately twenty minutes of this, we come to a halt in front of a small grey tent that shimmers with opalescent rainbows. Its banner proclaims that Kestrel, the 'Greatest Time Mage of the Century,' is in residence. There's no visible door, only a rope dangling from the exact center of the wall.

"I wonder which century that refers to," I murmur, and Ben laughs. An unexpected thrill of pleasure runs through me. It feels rather nice to make someone laugh; I'm not sure that's ever happened before. I'm quite good at provoking anger in my wielders, but laughter is rather foreign.

The kitsune bounces on his toes. "Alright, here you are! Be careful, okay, pretty mirror? Kestrel will like you – Kestrel may like you a lot." He whispers the last bit. "Don't let him, okay, pretty mirror?" At Ben's alarmed expression, the kitsune laughs. "Oh, don't worry, human, it'll all be okay. Just remember – don't annoy a time mage!" He still hasn't stopped bouncing, and his tails are a blur behind him.

Ben nods. "I won't." His voice holds the fervor of a promise, though he remembers my warning and doesn't actually promise anything in so many words.

The kitsune grins. "See? You'll be fine." He skips up to the entrance of the tent and yanks on the cord dangling there. A bell jangles somewhere within the tent, and the kitsune skips backwards. "Alright, folks, here's where I leave you." His ears twitch. "If you need me, you know where to find me!" He runs his tongue over his lips. "And I never say no to chocolate!"

With that said, he throws himself into another cartwheel and bounds away. Ben stares after him in bemusement. "That..." He shakes his head. "This is a very strange world."

"Why yes, I suppose it is."

The deep voice startles us both. Ben's hand drops protectively to his belt as he spins to face the tent and the man standing in front of a door that definitely wasn't there before. The man smiles. "Did I startle you? I apologize. I don't get many visitors."

So this must be Kestrel. I understand why the kitsune called him unique – he's wearing multicolored fool's motley, a patchwork outfit in all the colors of the rainbow, and positively dripping with jewels. I can feel the power radiating off of him, as palpable as the heat that emanates from a campfire; it sends tremors through my glass.