“Confused?” he asked. She nodded. “It’s a side effect of chaocracy.” She glanced up at the upside-down trees. All the dancers had gone to bed. The snow—was it snow?—had settled around him, more like puffs of fur than crystals of ice. “And you used a lot of it.” Some distant part of him knew that was wrong. He couldn’t have done that. He didn’t know how.
