In the endless amber sands of the Silent Desert , where the wind carved faces into cliff sides and the sun bleached bones into glass, there walked a camel with no hump. Her name was Zal , and her back

The antique shop at the end of Crow Street was cluttered with broken things—porcelain dolls with cracked smiles, clocks that no longer told time, and in the very back, a wingback chair so old its velvet

Every seven years, in a city that doesn’t appear on any map, a market opens at midnight in a district called Mirror’s End. The stalls sell peculiar things: Spoons that remember the taste of every meal

In the crooked, flour-dusted lanes of Briarwhite, there was a bakery that only opened at midnight. Its proprietor, Harlan Vey, was a man with dough-knuckled hands and a face pale as unbaked bread. He worked