29. Niamh

The mortal world smells. Oh, how it smells, like things I didn't even know had a scent. Loud and bustling, brimming with life. It teems with nasty smells, and beautiful smells. I take a step, and I am bombarded. Overrun. Overwhelmed.

My senses are at critical mass, and it feels utterly amazing.

I keep my hand in Caspian's as we walk down a stone path past the tall building we came out of. A peeling red sign reads: Bleeding Hearts Motel. A perfect name. A beautiful name.

Everything we pass is perfectly beautiful. There are smelly puddles in the streets that blot the landscape like lovely, little flaws. Clouds of steam waft up around my feet, sour-smelling and warm to the touch. The sky is a puzzle piece overhead, squeezing to fit in around tall square buildings that somehow seem more plain than the ones in the Citadel and yet more grand.

More perfect.

Oh my, everything here is perfect!

I need to know what everything is. What everything does. I'm so wrapped up in curiosity that I make a mistake.

I tighten my grip on the cold fingers entwined with mine, and I say, "What is this? What is this?"

And he says… Nothing. Not at first. He doesn't want to. His eyes darken, and his upper lip curls in abject disgust. Then, a big, rolling square of metal shoots past us and draws my attention.

"Truck," Caspian says bitterly and reluctantly. "Do not stand in front of them. Not again. You'll be killed."

Again.It must have been a truck that I encountered, with glowing, yellow eyes that blazed through the dark.

"I won't," I say. I promise him. He won't have to rescue me again. Pay for me again. I'm the reason for the package hidden in my newly purchased bag. The reason why he hisses beneath his hood, his head bowed low.

But then I spy something that distracts from my guilt for a moment. "Oh! What is that?"

He looks up. Hisses. "School bus." A yellow truck, brighter than the sun.

"And that?" My eyes have darted to something else. Another marvel.

"A dog," he says. A beautiful creature tethered to its owner by a colorful bit of red string. I know of dogs and wolves and animalistic creatures. I've read about them.

Never have I seen one.

Nor a "cat" that darts across the street next, as if to flaunt its newness before me.

"Oh," I utter again and again as Caspian dutifully and angrily explains the world to me.

Cars. Honking horns. Street lights. Stop lights. So many different lights.

Like the mortals and their clothing. Bright. Dark. Colorful. Vibrant. Muted. They cram so much color into these small places in between their enormous buildings. I will never learn enough. Discover enough. One day will never be enough.

Then we pass a "park." A place with lush, green, wide open spaces, and I get greedy. I grip the hand in my grasp tighter. I lick my lips and ask, "Can we see it up close? Please?"

He stiffens. Grunts. Groans. Drags me forward across the busy street to the park I long to see. We step beyond a gap in two curling metal gates. A stone path unfurls to a world of wild imagery beyond.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" That sound becomes the only noise I can make. The only word I can speak.

And one that Caspian translates with persistent irritation.

Oh!

"Garden," he explains, referring to a wealth of beautiful flowers.

Oh!

"Pond."

Oh! Oh! Oh!

"Tram. Frisbee. Food stall."

A few minutes in this corner of the mortal realm, and I am exhausted already. Satisfied already. So very pleased already.

There is still more to see. The realization dawns on me as we turn down another bustling street. Then another. Another. Amid a sea of new sights is one I recognize instantly.

A building perched atop a series of marble steps. Marble columns frame the entrance. It is a museum.

The museum.

Caspian tugs on my arm as I stare and stare. Angrily, he snaps, "What is it?"

Then he looks over and sees. Scoffs. "Been here before. Nothing special."

He's been here before, and it is nothing special.

When it is everything.

"Please," I tell him, my voice broken and hoarse.

His teeth grind together. "Where the hell do you think we're going?"

To deliver his package. To square his debt.

But he has chosen to put me first. My desire comes first. A quick stop. A quick trip. Perhaps he intends to leave me here.

Alright, then. I will accept. He can leave me to die here, and I will accept.

But he doesn't wrestle his hand away from mine. Instead, we keep walking through a sea of sleepy mortals, unaware of how beautiful their realm is. How beautiful this city is. They march past the building before us, yawning and heads bowed low.

As if it doesn't matter. It's as dreary a view to them as the Citadel bell tower is to me. Mundane. Unimpressive.

However, I stare. The closer we come, I gape. My mouth falls open, eyes get wider. Wider. Wider. I could swallow up the entire world if I'm not careful. Swallow up Caspian, who glances back at me, his eyes blazing and draped in shadow. He glances. Looks ahead. Looks back. Stares back. Stops moving.

Oh no. With my face—this hopeful pleading expression—I have offended him. Or at least I think so. He inhales raggedly. Runs his tongue along his upper lip. Bares the teasing hint of a fang.

"I'd give anything to bite you now," he murmurs. Hisses.

I take in those words with my hopeful heart, and I don't react to them like I should. I don't shiver and shudder in disgust. I don't rush to deny his request. A sinful request. Forbidden.

Because I know him, this creature, Caspian. When my heart is happy, it makes me smile. Until my mouth hurts, I smile.

When he sees me or any other creature happy, it makes him violent. Hungry. Impatient. It makes him reckless.

He drained ten people dry, Colleen warned me.

It is fine as long as he is only hungry for me.

I owe him my life already.

"Maybe," I say, my tongue heavy, lips tight. "Maybe I will let you."

No. No. I decide here and now.

"Before we return… I will let you."

He doesn't look satisfied. Gratified. Happy.

He scowls and glowers and tugs me along. "Come."

I follow him again eagerly. Too eagerly. Something strange happens. His steps are too slow for me. I start to outpace him. Slip past him. Soon I am the one dragging him along.

"Wait," he commands me. "Wait. Wait!"

"Hurry," I choke back as he tightens his grip. "Hurry! Please." My eyes are on the building ahead of me—so much closer but still so far away. I need to get there quickly. Before this dream fades and becomes a nightmare, I must get there.

He slows at first, impossible to pull. Then he surges, dragging me behind him again through a sea of mortals and right up to those marble steps.

I am here. My heart breaks with joy as I look up and see those familiar, foreign entrances. I am here. But as Caspian steers me inside, I realize something else.

He has fulfilled his purpose to me. His only purpose.

Then he'll go. Leave.

There is no reason for him to stay.