“Tell him,” the woman on the left urged.
Mon shook his head and tilted it upward for a breath. Did the dead breathe? Did he care? “Aelloven has learned that the man she believed was her father, Wilder Hawthorne, was not.”
“I was at the bizarre feeding frenzy when they told her.”
“Her real father is dead.”
“And?” Jesstin shrugged.
Mon glanced at the woman before continuing. “Esmeray is not her mother either.”
“Horseshit. They all look alike.”
“We see what we expect to see,” Mon replied. “She is not Esmeray’s daughter, not by blood. Acheron, Aelloven, and Gennady were born here and sent to another curia when they were barely out of swaddling. Esmeray came for Aelloven and on a whim took Gennady too. She could have taken Acheron as well but did not, for reasons unclear to us. Acheron was eventually returned to his family when they deemed him?—”
“No more,” the woman beside him said abruptly.
Jesstin had known Esmeray Hawthorne his whole life. She hadn’t always been present, but she had always loved her children. Her addictions started from her inability to protect them. “You realize how utterly ridiculous this sounds... right?”
“It would not if you knew why.”
He had half a mind to leap off the cushions and make a run for it. The throbbing had subsided, and the cuts were no longer screaming at him. But he wasn’t ready to stand, let alone run. “Why? Why would she kidnap someone else’s children?”
Mon held a long, solemn silence. “To keep Aelloven from Taven Considine. And to save her from what’s about to happen.”
“What’s about to happen?” Jesstin practically screeched. Bloody hell was he tired of everyone speaking halfway!
“Everything will become clear in the Infinitum.”
Jesstin stumbled off the settee, crashing to his knees in an ungraceful dive. He climbed back to his feet. “You’re no different from Ryquin or Estelar or the others. You’re just less...” He scrunched his face and flapped a hand. “Less alive.”
“Come to the netherworld, Jesstin. Come to Infinita Mori. We must withhold some information, or you’ll see no incentive.”
He passed an incredulous gaze over the stoic crowd of ghosts. “Why would I do such a stupid thing? For a history lesson, of all things?”
“You were stupid enough to challenge the maze,” said the evil little boy.
“We have so much more you and Aelloven need to know,” the woman said when Mon hesitated. “But we need your help. That’s the exchange.” Her mouth pulled at the side. “If you don’t come, they’ll kill you anyway, and then you’ll be trapped here, just like all of us.”
Jesstin rolled his eyes to the side in disbelief. “I’d like to see them try.”
“There’s already a plan underway, by Acheron and Estelar. They think you’re the reason Aelloven fell from the sky, that she was too distracted after a tiff with you,” Mon said. “They’ll kill you, and they’ll bond Aelloven to Taven. It will happen quicker than you’ll have time to react. But if you come here first, they can’t sunder the bond, not until you return to the living.”
“Then when I return, they’ll, what, lop my head off?”
“We don’t know.”
“How reassuring.”
“Ari is right. If you do not come soon, you will not have another chance. You will be sent here, trapped here. And Aelloven...” Mon’s head shook. “Her bond to Taven would be catastrophic. For her, yes, but mostly for everyone else of the blood.”
“But you won’t tell me why unless I do what you want me to do? And you don’t even know what that is. You just want me to show up and hope for the best?” Jesstin snorted. “Solid plan, mate. Ingenious.”
The irritated woman, Ari, started to rebut, but Mon stayed her. “I know how it seems. I would question in the same way you are now,” he said. “All of us simply want to move on to our next lives, to not be trapped in a place we were never meant to stay in, but it needs to happen the right way. Can you say the motives of Ryquin or Acheron or Estelar seem so pure?”
“You’ve already taken too much time. You always do,” Ari snapped. “Twilight is nearly spent, Mon.”
“Yes, yes—” Mon was cut off. Or, more simply, he was no longer there.
