39. Niamh

Ilie beside my Caspian and stroke my fingers through his hair. I speak to his unyielding, emotionless face.

I tell him all about the dark, wicked things in my heart and mind.

"How can I not be fae?" I ask him.

Easy, the silence replies. You knew you were a corrupted thing. A dirty, unwanted thing.

You knew.

You knew!

How dare you take offense now.

But that is the thing…

"I was something," I say to the darkness, shrouding us both. Me and my Caspian. "I was something, even if it was dirty and broken. I was something. How can I be nothing? If I am not fae… I am nothing."

I bore my abominable nature with shame and pain, but also pride. I lived among the fae, even if I wasn't fully one of them. In some small way, I was still a part of them.

But now?

"I am worthless," I tell him, my Caspian. "I am nothing. If I am not even a tiny bit fae, then I am nothing."

Caspian doesn't reply. He sits and stares in silence. Even as tears roll down my face and wet his lap, he doesn't react with violence or annoyance. He doesn't react at all.

Not even as I sob in the heavy dark and mourn the life I took for granted.

I thought by leaving the other realm behind, I could fulfill my selfish wish. My only desire.

But in the end…

I left myself behind. There is no unwanted fae creature out here. No Niamh.

Just a thing with no face and no name. No soul.

A truly unwanted thing.

* * *

I waste the seconds away,wishing they were decades. I changed my mind. I could spend centuries here alone with him. Centuries of waiting. Centuries upon centuries of lying against his cold, hard skin and trying to find warmth in it.

Centuries of waiting for him to come back, my Caspian.

He would scoff at me were he here fully. Hiss and laugh at my tears and my pain.

You foolish fae,he'd snarl. You are a foolish, stupid fae.

And it would be enough. To hear him declare me as such would be enough. Enough to silence Altaris and the Lord Master and everyone.

What he deemed me as would be enough. I would become it.

Fae.

Not-fae.

Niamh.

Someone else.

I would become whatever he wanted if…

No.Because that is the thing about my Caspian. He would scoff at any attempt to change what I am. Any attempts to erase my pain and shame. He saw me as an unwanted creature, first and foremost.

A creature to kill.

One to destroy.

He saw those things in me and wanted those pieces of a corrupted soul anyway. He wanted me. Niamh. At least, he thought he wanted Niamh.

Was it Niamh he ever truly wanted?

Or merely to rebel. To shun his master and needle him with the thought of me. The image of me. His master wanted him so very badly. Badly enough to give a toy he could never rightfully claim. Badly enough to send his siblings to fetch him.

Badly enough to keep him whole, even if his mind is in ruins.

His master wanted him, oh so very badly.

So, I will have to fix him. I will have to shove his pieces back together and remind him of who and what he is.

"You are Caspian," I tell him softly. "You drained ten people dry in the Bleeding Hearts Motel. You ripped people apart limb from limb. I watched you do it. You frighten me. You thrill me. Oh, how you thrill me… You are Caspian and I want you as you are. Come back. Come back!"

He doesn't. Even as the seconds drip into minutes, then hours, he never comes back.

I am alone again.

Even when Poppy knocks on my door and declares, "Morning!" I am alone.

I wallow in this loneliness. If I am to have no race or identity, then this is who I shall be. A shell of a shell of a shell. I will wear a bright pink dress and let my hair hang limply. I will walk like a ghost and stare at nothing.

Be nothing.

I will let myself fade entirely into nothing.

But I can't. Caspian needs me. Caspian. Caspian.

So I will be this dirty, broken thing. I will remain standing with my head high. I will be, even if it means losing the part of me that was always fae. Not fae.

In a sense, perhaps I am still fae.

But something else. Mixed with something else.

My head spins as I linger in the storefront while Poppy tends to every guest. When lunchtime comes, she skips outside while Altaris brings me another tray of food.

I eat woodenly, tasting nothing. For Caspian, I eat, tasting nothing. For me—whoever that is—I eat, tasting nothing. I eat and eat until I can't swallow another bite.

"Good girl," Altaris remarks as he takes my empty tray away. His tone is softer today. His gaze is different. Pitying. Worried.

Whatever he planned, will he do it now? Wake up my Caspian?

No.

"I don't appreciate your pouting," he says with a sniff. He raises a wrist to his mouth and buries his nose in the silken purple sleeve. "It's crowding the air around here. Making it sullen. I think, however, I have found something that will cheer you up."

My heart races and sputters. "C-Caspian?—"

"No," he says over me. He lowers his arm and flounces over to a shelf crammed with books. Having worked here for a day, I'm not even sure what the purpose of these items are. They don't seem to be for sale—the customers seem to request only what has already been prepared for them, in those brown paper bags. None of them felt heavy enough to be a book.

Even so, Altaris tuts under his teeth while running his finger along the spine of a book. With a grunt of triumph, he frees it and offers it to me.

"Some reading material to pique your interest," he explains before dropping the volume onto the counter. It lands with a soft thud and sends up a choking cloud of dust. I cough, my eyes watering, as I warily inspect the cover.

It isn't bound in leather and embossed with gold like the books in the archives. Instead, a scratchy black material forms the cover, and the title is stamped into the fabric in peeling silver paint: The Other Realms; a history.

"Other realms?" I say, skeptical already. This must be a fiction novel, for there are only two realms. The mortal world and the other realm.

"Read it," Altaris says. He watches me carefully while stroking his chin. I can't read his expression. It isn't cold like before. Perhaps, questioning. He isn't commanding me to read as much as he's…daring me to. "Or don't. In any case, it's yours. Now take it up to your room and come down with a better attitude, tomorrow. Off with you, now. Go!"

I take his book and return to the green room with it tucked under my arm. Even as I crouch beside Caspian, I don't read it yet. Instead, I lay my head on his lap and wait.

Two Days.

Two decades.

I'm not even sure which timespan feels longer.