“How about a compromise?” Jesstin dropped onto one of the rockers and gestured for Sesto to join him. “Come on, old friend. I already know how you feel. Can you hear me out?”
Sesto, his mouth tight, obeyed but would not be so easily swayed.
“I know Ryquin is responsible for this.” Jesstin stared, exhausted, into the valley. “And I know he did it because he felt it was the only way to get me to go chase his dream. I couldn’t muster a fraction of a fuck about his dreams, and he’ll die for what he did to Elloven. So will his bitch of a sister. But he was right about me. I am going, for her. I am going to bring her back, and when she’s safe, I’ll deal with my list in Rivenholde.”
“Jesstin.”
“The dead came to me in the maze, Sesto. They told me things, and...” His shoulders lifted tight to his ears. “I need to know what else they know.”
“But why?” Sesto leaned over the arm of his chair. “Why do you need to know? What concern of it is yours?” He sighed. Jesstin was deluding himself. Information? “My darling boy, she is gone. She is gone forever, and would that I could turn back time, but there are some pains with no remedy. If you wish to avenge her, I will disavow my own pacifism and stand at your side, but there is nothing but folly in going after her to a place that is not meant for us. Nothing but the same fate for you.”
“You haven’t seen what I’ve seen.” Jesstin’s mouth pursed. “Heard what I’ve heard.”
“Yes, because for once, you’re keeping secrets from me.”
“These hours... How long have we even been here?” Dried tributaries of tears pathed through the carnage on his face. “There hasn’t been time. There isn’t time now. So here’s your compromise. I’ll be as fast as I can. But should I be gone more than a week?—”
“We don’t even know how time works down?—”
“Then you return to Asterin and Rhiain, and you let them know what’s happened, and you convince them trying to come here would be a very, very bad idea. Because it would. If the message comes from you, they’ll listen.”
Sesto closed his eyes but nodded.
“And I need you to continue what we started.”
“With the...”
Jesstin nodded. “We’re nearly there. You can’t stop now. Those children deserve freedom. No one else is coming for them. You can’t do it alone, so it’s time for Asterin to be let into the plan.”
When Jesstin had come to him, drenched in his best friend’s blood and so distraught Sesto couldn’t subdue him, he hadn’t quite believed the story. Castien and Sestinn had been plundering their way through the beds of unwilling women for years. They were monsters, but a cellar full of their illegitimate children? Children who, at a certain age, were turned into paid amusements for other sick and powerful men? It seemed too depraved even for those sadists. But Sesto had bribed his way into confirmation, and from that point forward, he and Jesstin had fought their impatience as they slowly extracted each of the poor children, one by one, leaving enough time between abductions for it to seem like they’d run away. Neither of them slept well, knowing their pace subjected the poor children to even more abuse. Hurting them to save them wasn’t a consolation.
Gennady’s involvement in the whole affair was the hardest to believe, but Jesstin had witnessed it with his own eyes, and Sesto couldn’t argue that. He wished Jesstin had at least given him a chance to explain, but what could have been said? Gennady wasn’t very forthcoming as a dead man either.
“You’re right. No one else is coming for them,” Sesto said quietly. There was so much more to cover, but Jesstin was as stubborn as his sister, and his mind was made. All Sesto could do was minimize the devastation. “But I need to hear you say it, Jess.”
“What?”
“That you’re not traipsing down there on some wanton death wish.”
Jesstin shook his head at the sky and laughed.
“Say it.”
“What is out there for me now, Sesto?” Jesstin pointed into the abyss. “The one thing I had... Mythgarde...” He shook his head. “It’s all gone. I’ll never be allowed back. There’s nothing else I need or want. No purpose waiting around the corner for me. Not up here anyway.”
“That’s not true,” Sesto said, wishing his words sounded less weak than they were. Not up here was as clear as Jesstin would get to the truth of his commitment to Elloven.
“I’m going to find her, even if all I can do is...” Jesstin’s chin dimpled. “Tell her how fucking sorry I am. And to give her the truth both the living and the dead have kept from her. Then I’ll bring her home. If I can’t, if I’m not the man they think I am, then I’ll... She’ll never be alone, Sesto. I won’t leave her there to suffer alone.”
Sesto sighed. None of that was surprising, and there was nothing he could say to dissuade him, so he said what was needed instead. “I will stay here and wait for you. I’ll look after Elloven. If it seems like... like there’s no chance of your return, then I’ll go back to Riverchapel, tell Asterin about the children, and we’ll end that nightmare once and for all. And I’ll tell them everything I know you feel but cannot say. All right?”
Jesstin pinched his mouth tight and nodded. Sesto saw all he was holding back, all he’d always held back. If he could, he’d cry his tears for him.
“In return, you promise me you’ll come back.”
“I promise to try.”
Realistically, it was the best he could ask for. “What should I do with the stable hand?”
