The bazaar was loud enough to swallow secrets.

Lanterns pulsed above the narrow market lanes, alien vendors calling across one another while unfamiliar spices curled through the humid night air. Everything glowed here. Fruit. Fabric. Jewellery. Even the pavement shimmered faintly beneath passing feet.

She had stopped for the popfruit.

That was the official explanation.

Three translucent spheres sat along the skewer, each one glowing from somewhere deep inside its flesh. Ruby, violet, then molten amber. Their syrupy coating caught every colour in the market and threw it back twice as bright.

She lifted the skewer.

The first fruit touched her lips with a sticky little resistance.

Interesting.

She tilted her head and tried again, teeth barely breaking the glossy shell before a burst of chilled sweetness spread across her tongue. Her eyes widened for half a second before narrowing into amused approval.

A thread of syrup followed when she pulled away.

It stretched between her lips and the fruit, absurdly delicate, refusing to break.

She stared at it.

Then smiled.

Around her, several conversations suddenly became much less convincing.

The opaline markings across her temples shimmered turquoise, then rose-gold, betraying the amusement she otherwise kept hidden. A troublesome biological feature in negotiations.

Quite useful elsewhere.

She ran one fingertip along the lowest popfruit where syrup had begun to gather, catching the drop before gravity could claim it.

The flavour changed again.

Citrus. Something floral. A faint electric tingle.

Someone at the stall laughed.

“First time?”

She glanced sideways without lowering the skewer.

“Is it that obvious?”

Another glowing strand formed between two fruits.

She twirled the skewer lazily and watched it stretch.

The vendor wisely decided not to answer.

By the time she wandered deeper into the bazaar, two fruits were gone and the last one glowed brighter than before...