One day you learn it was all made-up, the Flit-runner's pilgrimage, the glim-starred shrine, the mushroom milk on the tongue and the Word you offer the Wind. One urchin tells the story to another, and another tells the next, and each time it grows in the telling -- because every urchin has something they'd wish for, if wishes were free for the taking, and every urchin knows what makes something free is if you're quick and you're clever enough to take it.

So you stand in the Flit, no one but the Wind to hear, and you understand: there's something here that feeds on stories, and it's up to you and your lot to make them up, to lie and cheat and steal a world where an urchin's wish comes true.