Jesstin’s nod followed Mon as he walked away.
As the hours stretched and the netherworld continued to turn on itself, Elloven’s heartbeat stayed true, and her breaths were just as they should have been. He wanted so badly to kiss her one last time, but the closer they were to the moment he’d come there for, the more it felt like a deception even he couldn’t shoulder.
He tried not to think about it, beyond the loving, mindful comforts he passed onto her as she slept soundly in his lap.
Mostly he thought of Rhiain, Asterin, Emrys, and the children. There was an equal chance of them knowing him as not. His head had been so hot, he hadn’t really considered what it would be like to go home and find himself truly alone. Rhiain’s love for him was of the purest expression, and Asterin had taught him to be a man when neither of his fathers could—a man who was both strong and vulnerable. Emrys had made mistakes, plenty of them, but that only made him more relatable to Jesstin.
And the children... He’d raised them. All those nights Rhiain and Asterin had been on the road, bartering for rare documents, Jesstin had taught the little ones how to cook—not well, mind—and how to do their letters and numbers. He’d played silly games with them, nursed their wounds, and fallen asleep beside them after one too many bedtime stories. One of his favorite memories was when he’d taken them all to Wintertide Jubilee, along with Emrys’s daughter, Nara. He’d spoiled them rotten, parading them around to each of the sweetmeat, cake, posset, pie, and pudding vendors, and they’d all gone to bed with sore bellies and huge smiles. Caterina, the eldest, had said, of course she knew she had the best mommy and daddy in the kingdom, but all her friends said the same thing about their own mommies and daddies. But she was luckier than her friends because she had her Uncle Brother, and there was only one of him. That was what she’d called him, Uncle Brother, and it was apt because he’d always felt like both.
Jesstin supposed there was some comfort to take from knowing that, whether they remembered him or not, he’d had a steadying and nurturing impact on their lives.
If they did remember him, then that would mean his soul was damned for eternity. He didn’t trust that his actions had fully destroyed the Conductor’s power. He’d weakened it, hopefully long enough for the dead to pass, but power like that could never have been destroyed by a single man.
It was hard to say which outcome was worse. He could imagine the pain of losing his family, but his very soul? That was beyond his reckoning.
He’d thrown both away so carelessly—but not thoughtlessly. He’d make the same decision a thousand times if it saved Elloven.
There was nothing to be done either way. He would either return to a family who loved him or to a harsh reality and begin anew. What could not be changed could either be embraced or fought, and he was tired of fighting.
The line of pilgrims stretched so far to the horizon that the ones farthest away looked as tiny as ants. But then he saw him. Ryquin. He walked alone in the procession, his head down and his shoulders hunched. He was older than when Jesstin had last seen him, now graying at the temples and throughout his dark hair, but it was the same man who had poured his entire life into becoming the sovereign of Infinita Mori.
He decided to get a closer look, for absolute confirmation, but it proved unnecessary when Ryquin looked his way, as if he knew he was being watched. It was defeat Jesstin saw in his eyes, not defiance. His distraction was fleeting; as he approached the door, Ryquin lifted his head to the sky and went through.
“I guess that means we can go.” Jesstin’s chest was stuffed with relief. “We can go home now. I’m taking you home.”
No response came, not that he’d expected one. It wasn’t injury keeping her at rest but some cosmic protection afforded by her magic, or maybe even his.
Jesstin gathered her tight and used the rock to help him stand. Fatigue rendered his gait unsteady, but he only had to go a little farther. No one had told him what to expect when he brought Elloven across the threshold. Would he exit where Daire had predicted? Would Elloven’s body still be there, and in the condition required for a successful resurrection?
He was going through, with Elloven, either way.
He approached the door marked YOU. He couldn’t wait to be rid of the Conductor’s flame, but he’d destroy it when they were on the other side.
“Jess.”
Jesstin froze. He knew that voice.
“I waited until you were ready.” His mother stepped around to the front of him, but he was too numb with shock to greet her properly. It was one thing to hear or see her in a vision, but she was as real as she’d ever been. “I had to see you, one last time.”
Adynara Skylark was as beautiful as her portraits. As a boy, when he’d dream of angels, it was her face he saw—her cascading red hair flowing like a protective veil as she stood against evil. Seeing her up close was confirmation Mathias hadn’t taken nearly as much as he’d intended when he’d magicked the past away, for some impressions were stamped upon the soul itself. “It was you, right? Who helped me in the especular?”
“One moment I was sitting at a loom, and the next I was watching you endure a series of terrible trials. I kept pushing through to reach you, but something always pushed me back. I would have done more if I’d been stronger.”
“More?” Jesstin shook his head. “You saved me. Your words. Your wisdom. I wouldn’t be standing here, with her, if you hadn’t pushed me to wake up from this... this haze I’ve been in for so long.”
Adynara cradled his cheek. “You already knew what to do.” She sighed as she studied him. “What a handsome man my Jessie has become. What a brave man. How proud I am of you! Look at what you’ve done.” She gestured in wonder at the endless line. “The dead will never forget. Living history might never record this, but the dead will know you as their savior for eternity.”
“I never wanted that,” Jesstin said. “It’s not who I am.”
“We choose our actions, love,” Adynara said. “Not our legacy.”
“I would take you with?—”
“Shh. You cannot. You know you cannot. I only came to say to you, one final time, how much I love you, Jessie. You are not a terrible mischance of fate. You are my son. You and Rhiain and Emrys are the best things I ever did. I can finally rest with the peace of knowing you will all be just fine, more than fine.”
Jesstin couldn’t tell her about the vial, about what he might return to. “We will.” He strangled all emotions except the ones she needed to see and hear. For all he’d needed her throughout the years, what mattered more to him in that moment was to see her joy, one last time. “We’ll be fine.”
Adynara gave him what he’d been waiting for: the most radiant, loving, and perfect smile, the smile of a mother. “Now, go. Take your love through the door and never look back. Not once.” She kissed his forehead, then each cheek. She planted one on Elloven’s cheek as well, but then she leaned in and whispered something in her ear, something Jesstin couldn’t hear. She turned her smile back on her son. “One day, we’ll meet again.” Her laugh filled his soul. “But not too soon, all right?”
