Esmeray’s brief start exposed that she’d not considered the question until then. “Curia magic is peculiar, Ellie. If he believes he knows, he knows. Asking how is as useful as asking why. Nothing I could tell you would help you understand.”
“Did you ask him?”
Esmeray sighed and looked away.
Elloven didn’t know what to make of any of it. “If I ask him, will he tell me the truth?”
“Part of it, perhaps. He’s a troubled man, but his occasional kindnesses make him more dangerous than when he’s at his worst. Taven can be lovely at times, can’t he? Quite charming, thoughtful. I believe he believes that is who he is always, and any lapse in his guise is merely him reacting to a world trying to make his humanity impossible, all in the name of what he deems to be right.” Esmeray set her glass on the vanity and curled her hands around Elloven’s, then squeezed. “Taven believes he loves you. He believes it in his marrow. I caution you that whatever passes for love in him, there is no light behind it and no room for yours to shine through. But... because he believes it, I expect he will act in accordance with it.”
“What does that mean?” A tingle started in Elloven’s face, building to something more.
“It means, my sweet girl, that his self-deception of thinking he’s a chivalrous man may be what helps him pretend to be one. It means, despite my powerful objections, El, that you will be safer with him than you’d ever be on your own.”
Elloven had considered most outcomes to the impassioned speech she’d prepared, but not one of them involved Esme encouraging her to go. Did it really have to be Taven? She’d hoped to be gone before he realized and could follow. But if Esme had forgotten the way, then Taven was the only one who could guide her, and there was no chance he’d simply give her the information and watch her ride away into the morning. With Jesstin.
Suddenly she no longer wanted to leave at all. “What if I’m not safe? What if you’re right?”
“Of course I’m right,” Esmeray blurted. “I’ve spent nearly three decades trying, though mostly failing, to keep you safe, but I was wrong to stand in the way of your own free will. You haven’t been a child for many years. You have a right to know who you are and decide what to do with whatever you learn. I was never meant to protect you forever, only as long as the fates allowed. Turns out, I’m not very good at it anyway.”
“What could you have done?” Elloven’s voice broke. Everything she’d been through was never far from her mind, but all those memories, all they could ever be, were facts. Facts had only the power given to them. The pieces could never be allowed to become whole, because she’d never survive the clarity. “I’m sorry for leaving when I’ve only just returned.”
“Nonsense. You’ll find your answers and come home, and then we’ll have all the time in the world.”
“You really think I should go?”
“I think you will go,” Esmeray said tentatively. “You were always going to go one day. What you did for Jesstin added the urgency I needed to face that. If you don’t go, there will be no fixing it.”
“I see.” Elloven chewed her inner lip. She was stalling, and they both knew it. She’d been counting on a debate, and the lack of one had her second-guessing everything. “Is there nothing else we should talk about before I go?”
“You should leave soon if you want to make full use of the day’s light. The driver Taven hired arrived a bit ago, but don’t rely only on him, Elloven. You should all take turns, ride through the night if you have to. There will be guards patrolling the Easterlands passages, and you need to be in the Westerlands before they realize you’ve left sanctuary. Relying on Jesstin’s sword and your magic will only get you so far.” Esmeray bowed her head. “There is one thing, El, and it won’t make sense to you now, but there may come a time... and if the time comes, you’ll remember I said this. And when you do, you will know what to do with it.”
Elloven cocked her head, but her mother shook hers with a finger to her lips. She leaned in close.
“Listen carefully,” Esmeray said and whispered the rest.
Chapter 7
Midnight Widow
Jesstin was somewhere he hadn’t been in years.
Everything looked the same. The derelict monastery, with its cracked stained-glass depictions of the Guardians and of another world, dancing through prisms of light. Layers of neglect lined the sills and gathered in corners of the cracked stone floor, which was missing more than a few slates. He’d tried tidying up in the past, but every time he returned, all the work had been erased.
The patterns in the rafters were still nonsensical scribbles, and the only place to sit was the throne covered in autumnal leaves and dust. Always leaves and dust, even after sitting there for hours.
Light pierced through a scene with people larger than trees, hunting quadrupeds larger than them. It seemed to come from the imagination of a child, which made sense, seeing as Jesstin had created the place as a little boy, in his dreams.
“What is this?” Elloven’s wonder echoed through the empty hollows. “Where are we?”
Jesstin hadn’t imagined her voice. That wasn’t how the place worked. Whatever happened there was as close to real as a dream could be.
He was back in the Night Soul, but for the first time, he wasn’t alone.
No point in asking how or why. That wasn’t how it worked either.
Jesstin turned and saw her standing in a beam of light, wearing a long black gown. The arms were lace, as were the high neck and her veil, which reached the floor. A midnight widow was the term for women who murdered their husbands, and she was playing the part his mind had cast for her. “I called it the Night Soul when I was a boy.”
“Night Soul?” She squinted at the noontide illumination streaming in. It was the middle of the night in the waking world.
