I thought you didn't want to let me go.

I want you to see that the person I glimpsed running beside the camel, running to save my life, is the person you can choose to be.

I love you," you said, simple as anything.

It was so big, that view. I’ll never remember it properly. How can anyone remember something that big? I don’t think people’s brains are designed for memories like that. They’re designed for things like phone numbers, or the color of someone’s hair. Not hugeness.

Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.

It sounded weird to hear you talk so much; normally you only said a few words at a time. I'd never imagined that you'd have a story, too. Until that moment, you were just the kidnapper. You didn't have reasons for anything. You were stupid and evil and mentally ill. That was all. When you started talking, you started changing.

Because it's magic, this place . . . beautiful. And you're beautiful . . . beautifully separate. It all fits.