Ainen brewed in mid-air, stirring something that smelled like warm spice and lightning while his hips kept time with the beat below. Bottles filled themselves and cups appeared.
He sent them down in a floating tray.
Everyone grabbed one.
The elephant beastfolk pair finished their routine and the crowd pressed in closer from every direction. People who had been walking past stopped. People who had been on other platforms drifted over. The two-headed pig-faced host spun his disk in a slow circle, prismatic balls cycling through deep purples and electric blues, and pointed at Almond's side of the stage with both sets of eyes.
"Your turn!"
Saffa was already moving before he finished the sentence.
