I mull over the idea that I have a new best friend—and that she’s a magical creature—while I let Talina lead me through the building. Which, once again, looks nothing like the place I walked through to get up here.
“This building does not make sense,” I say. “It’s like the hallways back in my sanctuary’s second floor. Always changing.”
“Yes. All Tarq’s buildings are variable. But don’t worry, it’s not like that outside.”
“How do you find your way around? Don’t you get lost on your way to work every day?”
“No, there’s an entry portal we go through. Two, actually. Well, I’m sure there are a lot more than two. But I only have access to two. They kick you out in the Grand Laboratory regardless of which door you come through. And here one is.” Talina and I both stop in front of a large metal door. It looks like something you’d find in a medieval castle—or a dungeon—and stands much taller than either her or I. Talina pauses as I take it in, then dramatically presents the exit portal to me with a wave of her hand. “Once we go through the portal, we’ll be kicked out into the Lesser Lobby. That’s the only exit I have access to, but it’s also the easiest way to get outside the building.”
“There’s so much magic here. It’s weird.”
“It’s not magic.” She giggles. “It’s just the laws of nature.”
“Right.”
Talina’s arm is still hooked in mine, so we pass through the portal doors as a team and end up in the same lobby where I came in from the sanctuary. I look around for my door, but it’s not there.
“Do you know how I get home?” I ask her. “Because this is where I came in and my door isn’t there.” I point to the place where it should be.
“Oh, portals are tightly regulated here in Vinca. What time do you get off work?”
“I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you sign a contract?”
“No.” I say this emphatically, and maybe a little bit too loud, but I feel the need to make this point clear. “I did not. I didn’t sign anything. Tarq just appeared one day saying he now owns my debt and—”
“Wait.” Talina squints her eyes at me as she holds up a hand, which is very feminine and not monsterish at all. I really love her sparkling white nails. I wonder if I can get my nails done here? “What?” she says.
“He owns my debt.” I sigh. “It’s a long story. I’m stuck in a stupid curse in my world and this whole Book of Debt thing is part of it.”
“Wow,” Talina breathes. “That’s so fascinating. I want to hear everything about your curse and your home. But let’s get coffee first.”
I agree. I need an immediate infusion of caffeine.
Talina leads me across the lobby and then heaves open a heavy glass door, holding it for me as I pass through.
And even though this isn’t a portal, I feel like I enter an entirely new world as I step outside and take in the city around me.
The buildings are all made of glass, and steel, and mirrors. A sleek train slithers by atop a monorail above me. Airships in the sky, huge birds gliding between the tippy-top architectural spires, and a river! A calm, wide river of light-blue water burbles down the middle of everything. Like it’s part of the transportation system.
There are fat houseboats that sit low on the water anchored to docks. Slim gondolas filled with people skimming the surface in a hurry like taxis. And long flat ships carrying large wooden crates and metal containers.
I sniff the air as a waft of bakery smell invades my senses. Then other smells—mostly food, which makes my stomach grumble, but sweet floral scents, too. A row of flowering trees lines the edge of the road running alongside the river. Butterflies float around them in a cloud, stirring up the smell with their soft, fluttery wings.
Tiny birds have an argument in a nearby bush, but it’s a melodic one. Sweet tweets and crisp chirps.
Then I see the… castle. At least, that’s what I think it is. It’s modern, but still has a very castle feel about it. Hard, cold towers of silver and steel jutting out from some central cathedral. The blackish-silver clashes with the soft light blue sky dotted with puffy cotton-candy clouds.
“Wow,” I whisper.
“Nice, huh?” Talina says. “You don’t have cities like this in your world, I take it.”
“We do,” I say absently, still trying to take in the city. “But then again, no. We don’t. Not like this.”
Aside from the tall, tall buildings that look like something out of a futuristic—much, much cleaner—New York City, there are so many people! I mean, I grew up in Philly and I’ve been to my share of cities. So I’ve seen crowds, but this. This is something altogether different.
There are so many people. And they are not all monsters, but they’re not all human, either. They’re a splendid amalgamation of the two. Everywhere I look are men, and women, and wood nymphs, and satyrs.