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“I have only three years,” Merris said, her voice suddenly almost sweet, like the chiming
of bells at the Goblin Market. “When I go, I want to be absolutely sure that my Market is in the
best possible hands. From now on, I think I will be looking at you as well as Cynthia, trying to
determine which of you should become leader of the Market in my place.” She paused. “That is,
if you want the job.”
Mae looked around at all the colors of the Market, and thought of the nighttime square,
the feeling of a plan when all the pieces fell smoothly together, how terrible it felt to be useless.
Jamie had made a plan and had gone to carry it out.
She needed to do something, and she had loved the Goblin Market from the very first
time she had seen it.
“Oh yes,” she said hoarsely. “I want it.”