Find the midnight market. Trade real money for fairy gold. Spend the gold before dawn, because at dawn the gold, the market and the purchases disappear.
Except for the experience. The experience remained.
That’s how it was supposed to work.
But the sun was up. The market was gone. Martin's feather hat was gone. And here he stood holding a single sparkling coin.
Fairy gold.
“You have a choice,” said a voice.
He turned around.
“You can keep the coin.” Liam sat in lawn chair, sipping a lemonade, wearing Martin's hat. “Or the memory.”
Martin considered the coin. He considered his options.
He wanted both.
He shoved the coin in his pocket and ran for it. He ran until he couldn’t remember why he was running, or why he had a rock in his pocket.
