They turned down another street and came out into the market. He hadn't seen a proper open-air market in decades—most of the farmer's markets that the trendy cities had established were a pale imitation of what once had been, with organized sales booths arranged underneath a pavilion or inside a building. This was the real deal. No two stalls were identical: each had been decorated in whatever manner the owner felt would attract the most attention. Most of them had painted signs or banners with an illustration of what they had to offer, although some were a little more esoteric, like the ladybug. Small brightly-colored triangular banners were stretched from trees and poles and tents, giving the whole thing the appearance of a used car lot or a church function. All that was missing was one of those silly waving windsocks.