16. Niamh

Iread a story once of a greedy fae who achieved everything they ever wanted. Power, wealth, and prestige. Yet, they still wanted more. More still.

Then they died alone and unhappy atop their mound of false wealth.

It was a warning. A cautionary tale. A lesson cloaked in drama and prose.

But a lesson all the same, and one I took to heart. To crave something out of greed only leads to disappointment in the end. A selfish creature can never be sated. Never be satisfied. They will always want more.

I believe that, right up until the moment that Caspian grips my hand impossibly tight and pulls me through a dark, dank hole underground. A portal.

I believe in that precious fable right up until the moment I open my eyes and breathe in fresh air. Until I see a blue, blue sky and feel an icy frost against my cheek.

I believe that greed is a sin until I see the mortal realm for myself. Beautiful, barren emptiness.

And a fullness I never knew I was missing made my heart feel heavy. I could die here content and happy. Even with a vamryre looming beside me, angry and scathing, I could die utterly happy.

Either he lets me go, or I wiggle away from him, but suddenly I'm walking freely, my hands outstretched, taking in this clean, fresh air. No stone. No watchful bell tower. No fervent, furtive glances my way that I was supposed to ignore.

The air is so clean. The sun is so bright. Everything smells wonderful. Feels wonderful. I'm running, my bare feet traipsing through grass and muddied earth.

It's beautiful. Everything here is beautiful.

I throw my head back at that perfect, wonderful sky and laugh aloud. Without fear of judgment or derision, I laugh and laugh. I run and laugh. I throw my arms out and spin and spin and giggle with the knowledge that no one or anyone could take this moment away.

Not Lord Master. Not myself. Not Day. Not even the vamryre.

I spin and spin until I grow dizzy and stumble to the hard ground. Still laughing, I look for him. Maybe he's gone, his duty fulfilled?

But he's not. He stands near the hole we crawled up out of, watching me from the shadow of a tree. Coldly and intently, he stares. As if he's never seen another creature remotely like me, he stares.

A silence falls between us, heavy and still. Something changed in our frantic race here. Something is still changing, morphing, and transforming. What is it? What is it?

I doubt I'll ever know. He watches me for so long that the rest of reality fades to a hum. We are the only two souls in this plane of existence. Then, slowly, he inclines his head and says, "Come."

On trembling legs, I stand.

And I obey.