Tessa woke, gasping, the book sliding off her lap as she sat up. The dream was gone, but the muziki remained, high and haunting and sweet. She made her way to the door and peered out into the hallway.
The muziki was louder in the corridor. In fact, it was coming from the room across the hall. It was ajar slightly, and notes seemed to pour through the opening like water through the narrow neck of a vase.

As if in a dream, Tessa crossed the hall and put her hand gently to the door; it swung open under her touch. The room within was dark, lit only kwa moonlight — she saw that it was not unlike her...