The stalls opened of their own accord. Doors that had been locked swung wide, revealing hidden chambers filled with objects that defied explanation: a compass that pointed toward memories, a tapestry that changed its pattern with each glance, a jar of wind captured in glass.
Inti settled at their feet, his amber eyes gleaming. As they drifted to sleep, the air outside grew colder, a thin veil of mist rolling in from the valley below. The stalls opened of their own accord
Abby turned to her friends, a smile blooming on her lips. “We came looking for a secret,” she said, “and we found a moment. Let’s keep listening for those moments wherever we go.” the air outside grew colder