“I didn’t know those men were sending me messages.” Taven’s jaw clenched. “All I’ve ever wanted?—”
“Is your Ellie, blah, blah, blah. I’m not your audience for that drivel,” Sesto said. “I’ve observed many men like you over the years. You cannot fathom what love looks like without holding the reins and guiding the other wherever you need them.”
Taven blanched. “You know nothing about me, about her, or about us.”
“I know enough.”
The door opened. Jesstin stepped through and slammed it behind him.
Taven surged forward. “So?”
Jesstin tore through his matted hair and raked his fingers down his neck. The red dust was everywhere now. Sesto nearly asked him to pause whatever he was about to say so they could take a rag and some soap to him, restore a modicum of decency, but it would not have paired well with the look on his face.
“Daire,” Jesstin said. “You’re the one who can help me enter the Infinitum?”
That cheeky little strumpet. “I thoroughly and vehemently object.” Sesto pushed past Taven. “You cannot trust a word these people say. They’ve done nothing but manipulate you and Taven and... Elloven. They may have a vested interest in getting you there but absolutely none in getting you home.”
“I know.”
“I also don’t think you should go,” Taven said, joining in quietly with a raised finger. “They’d sacrifice you without a second thought. You’d be mad to follow through with anything they’ve asked of you.”
“Even if I can save her?”
Taven hung his head. “It destroys me to say this, but I don’t think there’s anything we can do now for Ellie.”
Hollow laughter rumbled from Jesstin. “So, what, you’re worried about me?”
“Contempt isn’t strong enough to convey how I feel about you,” Taven said. “But you’re the only other person in Rivenholde who cared about her, and not just what she could do for them.”
“Don’t forget Daire and me,” Sesto said.
“Daire is Ryquin’s puppet,” Taven said with a snort.
“More like slave.” Jesstin sighed and offered Daire a tight smile. “If things go sideways, you should leave with Sesto and Taven. Get out of here, while you still have a way out. Rhiain and Asterin will make a place for you, and Sesto will take care of you.”
“Stop talking as if I would ever leave you here,” Sesto said. Jesstin’s stubbornness had gathered like a storm over the years—he was a Skylark, after all—but it was the rashness that worried Sesto. When Rhiain had started having children, her priorities had ostensibly shifted, and Sesto had gravitated toward Jesstin. When Rhiain and Asterin would travel on business, it was Sesto and Jesstin rearing Caterina, Tyreste, Sianha, and Rhydian. The fun uncles, teaching the little ones their numbers and letters... showing them how to help prepare a meal and keep a home. The long nights of games after all their chores were done... the innocence and laughter. Those times were among the best of Sesto’s life, and they’d stopped after Jesstin had killed Gennady.
Every bad thing that had happened, and was happening, called back to that single, fated moment.
“We need to leave before they come for us,” Taven said.
“About that,” Jesstin said. “You pleaded with me before I went into the maze to help you get Elloven out of Rivenholde. Then that same night you’re conspiring with the same people you told me you wanted to get her away from.”
“Lexsea approached me while you were in the labyrinth. It doesn’t matter. It’s done.”
Jesstin silently gasped. “Lexsea needed Elloven at the sept. That’s why she offered her help. She needed Elloven at the sept so she’d be there for the assassins.”
“Is it true?” Sesto asked Daire.
Daire shook his head. “I couldn’t say.”
Taven threw up his hands. “Jesstin, Sesto, no one will ever know what happened to you or where to collect your remains. Me, who knows? Am I anything to them without Ellie? Half of them needed her alive, the other half dead. Talking about it only delays what we know we must do.”
“Ses.” Jesstin nodded at the door. “A minute?”
Oh, he knew why Jesstin wanted him outside. He’d made up his mind, and there’d be no changing it. Sesto could see it as clear as anything. But Jesstin grossly underestimated their friendship if he thought he could compel him to go on without him.
“I will not,” Sesto replied, assertive, his arms crossed before the door even closed behind them. “You can ask me until the color leaves your cheeks and the air your lungs, and the answer will be the same. Even the stable hand knows how foolish this is. Shouldn’t that tell you something?”
