36. Niamh

This corner of the realm is so strange. So different from what I imagined, and so different from the empty field I first glimpsed the second I came here.

The Bleeding Hearts Motel was loud and violent.

Life here…

Is quiet. Silent. These vamryre are all broken, lost souls that scurry and scatter at the slightest glance. Like me. Like I did in the Citadel.

Like they fear attention or the slightest touch. They fear their own shadow.

Will Caspian become like them? A broken, hollow thing. I hope not. Oh, please… I hope not.

I need him angry and bitter and full of sin. I need him bloody and thirsty and violent. I need him exactly as he was, no more, no less.

It is important to me that he remains Caspian. He can't change too greatly.

He can never lose his spark.

Because without his fire, I will fade out, a dying ember devoid of a flame. I will die out. Here in this perfect mortal realm…

Without Caspian, I will die out.

So, I wait for him. I wait impatiently, but I wait.

I let Altaris show me into another room cramped with bright furniture and paintings and too much to think clearly. A busy, noisy room, though silent if I keep my eyes closed.

"Let your boy rest for a night or two," he says. "His mind has been damaged. For decades. For years. From being one of the collective, to one alone… It is as though one has lost all of their limbs. Their eyes. Their tongue." He releases another wistful, heavy sigh. Whatever Caspian is experiencing, he too has been through it. Once.

How long ago?

I can't tell.

But I am not hopeful as I stare into his haunting green eyes. He keeps his thoughts locked up tight, more tightly than even Day did.

"I want to be with him," I say. Want to, because it may not be necessary. I would rather stay away from him than cause him any further pain. I would rather stay away from him than hurt him anymore.

"I suppose if you are silent and calm," Altaris stresses, "You may see him once he is settled in. Once we have settled upon a strategy for repayment."

"Caspian delivered your payment," I say.

He shrugs. "That was Mo's pay, for the stay in that dreary little shack. Here the rules are different and my prices vary. For succor here, it will cost you. The vamryre will stay free of charge, but not you." He sniffs at me and frowns. "You will upset my darlings, and for that you must pay."

I swallow hard and wrack my mind for anything of value. He is a vamryre. Perhaps blood is what he wants? Or my body, Like Caspian…

No, not like Caspian. Out of duty, I lied and pretended to give him what he wanted. A price was paid.

There was another reason, though. The real reason. One I shy away from admitting, even in my own mind. Maybe I wanted him, this beautiful, wounded, broken soul. Maybe from the start, it was always him that I wanted…

"I don't like your vapid little expression," Altaris sniffs. "Whatever you are thinking—utterly disgusting. You shall repay me with labor. My darlings are skittish when it comes to dealing with customers, and I cannot be in the shop at all times. You will work with Poppy in the main shop, starting tomorrow. Understood?"

I nod, even though I don't understand at all. Main shop? A place to sell things? If so, he obviously isn't selling well. His home is full to bursting with so many things.

"When can I see him?"

"Soon," he snaps. "Our payment is agreed. You may stay. For now. I can shield you from the collective, but only for so long. As for the fae… They have no domain here, but I cannot shield you from them. Should they ask, I must deliver you to keep my own darlings safe. Understood?"

I nod. If they asked, but they won't. They should be glad I am gone. Happy to be rid of me. Never will they have to look upon me and see their shame again.

"I understand," I say. "Just help Caspian."

"I will," he replies. "Ah, Scythe," he says, referring to the blue-haired man who silently enters the room alone. "I take it you squared our newest guest away?"

The man, Scythe, nods.

"I suppose you could see him now but be quiet and be patient. You will further damage his mind with your shouting and screaming."

I nod, my throat tight. Then I stand and start to follow Scythe into another cramped, tiny room.

"Oh, and you will begin your work tomorrow. Nine sharp. I do not tolerate tardiness. Poppy will assist you and show you the ropes. You can be as loud and irritating as you want in the storefront but, in here, you will be silent and respectful of my tenants. I will make sure Poppy sends you something decent to wear. And you may wash up in the bathroom near your room. Now go, please."

He waves me off and I follow Scythe, eagerly, impatiently. The need to see Caspian is all-encompassing. More than my wish to visit the mortal realm.

It was possible for me to die without achieving that wish. It would not have been my choice, but I could have.

There is no dying without seeing Caspian. I must see him, I must! Even if it means traipsing through a crowded hallway cluttered with beautiful, shining, porcelain things. He hoards things in the absence of a hive mind, this Altaris. He fills the rooms of his massive home full to bursting as if any ounce of empty space may make him remember…

What it is like to have an empty skull, apart from his master.

Poor Caspian. My sympathy for him only grows as Scythe silently leads me to a room past a winding staircase left partially ajar.

He sits on a bed draped in emerald sheets. The walls are colorful and vibrant: dark green leaves over black. Heavy black curtains shroud what must be two windows. A single lamp illuminates the space, hanging from the ceiling.

But Caspian stares blankly at the opposite wall. He sits and stares and wanders in the chaos of his mind.

I tiptoe toward him and sink to my knees beside him. I take his hand in mine and press it to my cheek. I whisper to him.

"Caspian."

He doesn't respond.

Maybe he will never respond.

Maybe he will never be the same again.