Word, wire, paper, bone
Oil, fire, vapor, stone
The Market, October's Market, sells many things; grimoires, charms, curses and hexes, components, ready-made potions, scrolls of magic and scrolls of poetry, golems and poppets, secrets, truths, lies...
Some say it's a fairy market, some say the goblins'. They are right. And they are wrong. The Market is it's own, and while many secrets and truths are for sale among it's tents and stalls, that one keeps for it's own.
The River's Daughter is a child of the Market, born of a seed sold to a mortal woman who could not have a child of her own. She was told to swallow the seed on the full moon and swim in a certain river in the moonlight, and she would have her wish. She did, and at the next Samhain moon her daughter was born, with nut-dark hair and eyes as blue and changeable as the river who sired her.
As the Market's child, she knows it's secret, but since it is also her own, she keeps it safely behind her teeth. She'll sell you what you want, and help find what you need, if you ask nicely. Few things are beyond her ability to find. For a price. There is always a price.
* * * * * * * * *
The Market's talking again, and it's finally letting me know what the hell it is, so that I can start making it something that exists in the real world. Shopping list is being drawn up, copious notes are being scrawled, and if my body will just stop with the being sick and hurting for more than a few minutes or a day or two, I can finally get to work on it.