“Then explain yourself, and quickly,” she said but didn’t join him so he remained standing. Her fingers began ticking, counting against her leg. Acheron clocked it and she stopped, continuing in her mind instead.
With a sigh, he returned to standing. “This is Ryquin’s doing, Aelloven. He brought Jesstin here.”
Jesstin had said the same thing, though he’d refused to explain, and he might never get the chance again. She kept her eyes on the labyrinth, but there was nothing beyond a breeze rustling the manicured leaves. “Why would he do that?”
“He’s already exhausted nearly every necromancer in the seven curias.” Acheron swiped a finger along the edge of her chin to turn her head. “Sister, please, listen to what I am telling you.”
She slapped his hand away. “You may be my blood...” Her numeration was so frenzied, it was useless. She’d lost the count altogether. “But we are strangers. I don’t know you. I know nothing about you, except that you look just like the brother I lost, the one you haven’t even asked me about.”
“Gennady?” Acheron nodded solemnly. “Because I already know, Aelloven. And if you knew what I knew, so much would be different right now. You would not even be here, and certainly not with Jesstin.”
All of her trust, her wild excitement at being home, finding herself, was gone. The only thing she could hold onto was that Jesstin was somewhere in the maze, and might never leave. “Are you going to tell me or not?” Her fingers twitched again, out of order. Pinky. Thumb. Index. Chaos stirred in her heart, like a dark whorl gathering and waiting for the right command, but Daire had said... What had he said? He’d said...
“Jesstin believes he went into the labyrinth of his own will and stubbornness, but Lexsea planted the thought in him. A seed of a thought, and it took root. And it wasn’t the only seed she planted tonight.”
Lexsea, the one who’d had her hands all over him. The one who was twice as beautiful as Elloven had ever been... not that it should matter, but it did.
“Ryquin is testing him. He needs Jesstin to endure what the maze delivers, but if Jesstin dies in there, he’ll find another like him. He’s just research to Ryquin. Do you know how many necromancers have died to his ‘experiments’? And how many of them ended up there, in this very maze, ready to lure Jesstin to his demise?”
Jesstin had tried to tell her. He’d tried to warn her. He’d pointed out how they’d intentionally kept them apart all evening, and she’d blown him off, like she’d blown off every other accusation that had threatened to dull her excitement. Her pride needed her to be right about this, even if she’d been wrong about so much else.
The truth was all around her and yet still eluded her.
Acheron was her brother. Her brother. That should mean even more with Gennady gone. No bond could replace what she’d lost, but each season of life brought new gifts, and the man sitting beside her should be one of the greatest gifts ever given to her. But he wasn’t. Despite how familiar he looked, he was a stranger, and maybe a dangerous one. They all were.
Elloven couldn’t trust any of them to protect Jesstin, but she couldn’t protect him either.
“Aelloven, did you hear me? Are you listening to what I’m telling you?”
“I heard you.” She didn’t recognize her own voice, dark and gravelly and heavy from a long night. “Not that you’ve really said anything.”
“Ryquin would banish Jesstin to Infinita Mori for eternity. He’d never escape, not on his own and not with your help, because you leave your magic at the gates.” Acheron leaned in, gravely serious. “You can’t do anything about what’s happening inside the labyrinth, but if he survives, there’s only one way you can protect him from Ryquin.”
Elloven’s troubled gaze drifted to the dark hedges. The crowd was getting more and more impatient. “You expect me to ask what that is, when you’ll tell me either way.”
Acheron’s voice lowered to a whisper. “He only stays because of your bond. Without it, he’s free to leave, which we both know is all he really wants. So give it to him. Bond with Taven.”
Elloven’s eyes narrowed. “But I thought there were other ways to break the bond?” At least, that was what Ryquin had told Jesstin, who seemed to believe it.
“More deception, I’m afraid,” Acheron said sadly.
Elloven wasn’t buying his overwrought concern. She suspected they were all telling pieces of the truth, but a truth in pieces was still dishonesty.
Sesto would know what to do. “I’ll consider your words.”
Acheron shook his head. “I know a brush-off when I hear one. Our worlds are not so different.”
“Then you’ll understand I know when I’m being manipulated,” Elloven said and stormed off. Only when she was confidently clear of him did she pause, bend over, and retch into a bush of thorny purple orbs.
“So?” the spectral man prompted. “Have you considered our invitation?”
“I’ll take my chances with the vines and quicksand,” Jesstin said with a laugh. Even the dead in Rivenholde were playing games.
The man arched a brow. “Confident, are you?” He dissolved.
“So much for form!” Jesstin shouted, but now that he was alone again, he wondered if he should have done as Asterin would have and accepted the offer.
Only way out is through. Jesstin pushed his breath through tight lips and stepped under the arch.
