Chapter 10

NOTE: Moliggan Brightside sings "Yesterday" by the Beatles.

In the wee hours of the morning the staff of the Lavish Chateau were winding down for the night, cleaning up after the patrons and getting things neat and tidy for another day before calling it quits. A nervous-looking human man with slicked back hair swept through the bar area and found the minotaur bouncer flipping chairs up for the cleaning crew. "Uh, Blude, I can't get him to listen to me."

Blude exhaled loudly through his nose, ruffling the young man's shirt. "Gods dammit," he grumbled. "Fine." He handed a chair to him and the small man strained a bit under its weight as Blude stomped off into the club.

All the patrons had long gone home, save one.

"Aw, fuck me," he grumbled.

Moliggan Brightside was slumped over a table, face down and clutching a tall, empty bottle in one hand. There was a dinner knife loosely held in his other hand and the remnants of a meal half eaten scattered around him. Blude took a fistful of the back of his jacket and made to heft the drunk to his feet.

If the minotaur's reflexes had been worse, he would not have been able to avoid what happened next. In a flash, Molly gripped the knife and as he popped up he attempted to attack whoever it was who had grabbed him with the small, serrated blade (designed for cutting a steak, not an adversary, but still sharp).

"Whoa!" Blude shouted and easily disarmed him. "What the fuck, Molly!"

Molly swooned and looked up at the enormous, dark, furry form that loomed over him. "Oh…" he muttered and was probably going to apologize but something about the way he opened his mouth and no words came out was terrifyingly familiar to the bouncer.

"Not in here, you don't!" he shouted, scooped him up and charged out the back with him. Blude set him down only a little roughly on all fours and stepped back as Molly vomited onto the ground behind the Chateau.

Molly tried to get to his feet, but slipped and nearly landed in the pile of sick before him.

"This is above my fuckin' pay grade," Blude grumbled, helped him up and opened the door back into the building. "Come on, you. If I letcha go like this Marion'll kill me."

.x.

Molly sat on a stool at the bar and Blude poured him a glass of water. After he'd had enough of it that Blude was satisfied that he wasn't going to throw up again he leaned in close and stared Molly down. "You attacked me," he whispered, gruffly.

"Did I?"

"You did," he said slowly.

"Ya don't say?"

"I can't tell if you're bullshittin' me or not, Brightside, but you better not be. Why'dja do that?"

Molly focused on the ring in the bouncer's nose and cleared his sore throat. "I honestly do not know why I did that." His words came out staccato, pointed and deliberate. "My guess? Ya startled me," he slurred. "Didja know that you are one imtiman...itimimim...you're a little scary?"

"Why are you so hammered all by your lonesome? Cause Marion was busy tonight? You got all them other friends a yours, don'tcha?"

Molly licked his teeth and waved his hand as if to discount that statement. "I have fucked up, Blude. Really, really fucked up this time."

"Gustav kick you out?"

"Yyyyep." Close enough.

"I don't blame him. You're a godsdammed shitshow and he's a good man you got. Y'oughtta be ashamed a yerself."

"Thank you for that, Blude. You, sir are an expert trash removal... expert," he drawled, slid off the stool, and tottered out the door.

.x.

Molly woke the following day on the little divan in the front room of the apartment and lay very still. His head throbbed and he felt like he would break with every movement. He could not recall how he made it back, but he did remember throwing up in an alley and Blude trying his best to help him in his own way.

About an hour later he slowly and carefully rose from the divan and relocated to the bedroom. The sun was low in the sky by the time the hangover had passed. Molly stood in the doorway and listened carefully. "Gustav?" he asked the silence then slumped his shoulders. Of course he wasn't home. Perhaps he wouldn't come home tonight at all. As his beleaguered brain tried to think of a way to beg his husband's forgiveness his stomach rumbled loudly. Molly scoffed and shrugged. He hadn't had a proper meal since the night before so he trudged around the corner. He knew there was a loaf of bread and some cured sausage tucked away in the cabinet and if he was lucky a couple pieces of fruit that wouldn't have turned too badly yet.

The scant light glinting off something on the floor near the bar caught his eye and stopped him short. His beautiful cut-glass decanter was smashed to pieces and someone had tracked glass and liquor away from the bar and toward the door. Molly stepped carefully toward the little cabinet that served to hold up his prodigious collection of intoxicants. Four glass tumblers sat crammed together, half-full, presumably of the sherry from the decanter—the one thing besides red wine that Gustav liked to drink. The stuff was also spilled around them and had ruined the finish. He struggled to remember the night before, and though his memory was incomplete he was positive he would have remembered breaking something so precious to him. The scene screamed 'something is not right' and Molly broke out in a cold sweat. He shook his head. "No, he's just messing with you," he whispered. "Trying to make you think something terrible happened." He turned around slowly in place taking in the rest of the room. The only other thing out of place was another tumbler, this one mostly empty, sitting on the little table by the divan. Molly gave it a sniff and noted it contained the same sherry that was spilled. "He got shitfaced just like you did and he poured it all out into those glasses then smashed the decanter to spite you." He couldn't remember if Gustav had been home when he dragged himself back in the door. He couldn't remember him leaving while he slept on the divan. As a nauseating doubt nagged at him he decided to head to the shop to get some answers.

Molly hastily cleaned himself up a little then went to head out and just before he touched the door his eyes lighted on the bar once more. He did a double-take as he noticed something else out of place. Stepping carefully around the mess on the floor, Molly reached out with a trembling hand for the platinum and tarnished silver ring, one size smaller than his own, tucked just behind one of the bottles. He slipped it on his pinky and bolted from the house.

.x.

"He said he'd be down here today," Emerald Fletching said, her usually cool, collected demeanor giving way to panic. "He never showed. What's going on, Molly? When was the last time you saw—?"

Before she finished, Molly cursed, ran into the street and flagged down a Zolezzo who took him to the nearest station to report Gustav missing. Once they heard that the two married men had had a fight the night before they tried to placate Molly with assurances, but it was clear the authorities were convinced that his disappearance was romantically motivated. They told him they would let him know if they heard anything.

Molly trudged back to the shop in a daze. He told Ema what they police had told him and answered her questions with vague answers before she became frustrated.

"Stop it! Look at me! What. Happened."

He looked down on his tiny grandmother with glistening eyes and a lost expression. "I broke his heart," he said. "This is all my fault. Whatever happened to him, I deserve it." He turned and left Ema standing dumbfounded and weeping.

He didn't remember getting home. He grabbed a bottle from the bar on his way to the bedroom and didn't leave the building for the next week.

.x.

On the morning of the eighth day, a young human courier with a satchel stuffed full of papers and small packages knocked on the door of the house. After a few moments she knocked again more forcefully and looked nervously from the door to an envelope she held in her hand. She had just started to knock for a third time when the door swung open slowly revealing a shirtless, heavily scarred and tattooed tiefling who glared at her through red eyes rimmed with sleeplessness. "What?" he asked.

"M-Moliggan Brightside?" she asked, voice wavering.

"What?" he repeated.

"A message for y—"

He snatched it and slammed the door in her face. Molly tore the note open and tried to read it as fast as he could, but despite a few months of reading lessons (put on hold completely once Gustav became too busy to tutor him) he could understand only the words 'Molly', 'Love', and 'Marion'—enough to get the idea that it had nothing to do with Gustav. His chest heaved and he cursed heavily in Infernal. A knock sounded again and he slowly opened the door to give the courier a curious look.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've been asked to take your reply with me."

"My reply…sure. My eyes're kinda fucked up," he mumbled and shoved the note at her. "Wha's it say?"

She squinted at it as he held it out for her to read. "Molly, I'm worried about you. Please send word you are alright. Love, Marion."

Molly sighed dramatically. "Ya hear that? The Ruby of the Sea wantsa know if'm ok," he slurred and dragged a hand suggestively across his chest. "You may tell my beloved Marion," he said slowly, trying to enunciate the best he could, "that I'll pay her a visit, post haste." He flicked his forked tongue at her and the poor girl turned and fled. Molly laughed darkly, retreated inside and leaned against the door.

"Fuck."

.x.

When Marion Lavorre heard the four knocks on her door (Molly's knock: one two-three four) she didn't wait for her handmaid to get it. She bounded across the room in a few graceful strides and whipped the door open. "Molly!" she cried and the pleased look shifted to one of worry. "Oh, you look terrible!"

"Well, y're the one wanted ta see me," he mumbled with a sheepish look and let her pull him into the room. She seated him and fussed over him, peppering him with questions.

He reached out for a half-full bottle of wine on an end table and she stopped his hand. "I can smell you from here, darling," she admonished gently. "Please don't."

"Mer, it's the only thing keeping me from fallin' apart."

Marion stared at him intensely. "Blude told me Gustav kicked you out."

"Incorrect. We had a terr'ble fight," he said, slurring a little as he brushed her delicate hand aside and uncorked the bottle. "And then 'e vanished without a trace."

Marion gasped and yanked the bottle from his hands. "You can't be serious!"

"As a heart attack. Didn't take anything with 'm. No money missing, no clothes packed. Never reported fer work las' Wednesday morning. Haven't seen 'm since."

"That's terrible!"
"And so'm I. Please may I have that?" he asked and held out his hand for the bottle.

"No. And no you are not. What in the world happened?"

Molly gave up trying to get her to give him the wine and slumped back in his chair. He told her everything that happened including the night of the party and the subsequent fight. "I'm not entirely sure he meant that I was screwin' someone else or if he was usin' 'fucking' in the usual way ta mean 'very' or 'seriously' in reference ta my becoming literally someone else, not that it really matters, because Gustav never, ever swears, an' it was like havin' my face peeled off ta hear it."

"Oh, Molly, I'm sorry."

"And I'm gettin' sober sittin' here and the dread's startin' ta creep back in an'm just so fuckin' miserable, Mer." At last, Molly cracked. His face contorted, lower lip trembling, brows pinched tightly together and he sobbed. "I'm scared. I don't know if he's dead or alive and I feel like I wanna curl up and die."

Marion rushed forward and put her arms around him. "No, please don't say that! He was hurt and you both said hurtful things, but you have a strong love. You must be able to find the strength to endure in that."

"But I ruined it…"

She shook her head. "I do not believe this. It is cliché, but love never dies. And certainly not one like yours," Marion said with a sad, closed-eye smile. "Love gives strength. I myself hold love in my heart always and it shines for me through any darkness."

Coming from a courtesan who never left the bordello, this was quite the statement, indeed. He let it sink in under the fading layer of intoxication, nodded, and hugged her back.

"I want you to do some things for me," she said, took his hands in hers and leaned back to look into his eyes. "One, stop drinking. Right now. Two, come see me for lunch every day. No excuses. I will help you. Do this for me?"

"I'll try."

"You'll do," she insisted in Infernal and squeezed his hands. "And I think I may be able to relay a message to Gustav through my friend who knows magic."

Molly perked up at this. "You can what?"

"I cannot guarantee it, but I will ask her when she calls out to me."

Molly thanked her profusely and promised to do his best. She kissed his forehead and told him to go see an apothecary as she knew that coming down off an eight-day drunk would hurt. She would let him know the moment she knew anything and would see him tomorrow at noon.

As he left the venue, Molly passed by its huge, well-stocked bars and bit the inside of his cheek, but thought of Marion's pleading eyes and her love gave him the strength to walk on by, out into the sunshine.

.x.

The apothecary they frequented was a few doors down from Fletching & Fletching in the Open Quay and Molly stood in front of it, squinting down the lane at the sign with his husband's name on it. Though he was starting to shake and felt like he would throw up at any moment, he hugged himself and made up his mind. "It already hurts like hell. What's more pain at this point?" he asked and walked slowly to the shop.

Emerald Fletching was alone. She looked up from some hand-work she was doing as the bell rang and froze, needle in mid-stitch. "Molly," she said, surprised.

"Ema." A pair of children ran by outside, shouting about some amusement or another and he flinched. He looked down and away from her penetrating gaze. "I have maybe some good news, kind of," he said quietly. His voice was rough and deep and a little shaky. "Maybe not, though. Marion has a friend who does magic. They might be able get a message to Gustav somehow, but maybe not. I'm not going to get my hopes up and you shouldn't either, really, but it's better than nothing."

"Where have you been?" she asked—slowly, quietly, angrily.

Molly flinched again. "H-home."

"You didn't answer the door."

"I…" The words got stuck in his throat; telling her that he didn't hear her knock felt more excuse than explanation and he choked them down. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Sir Epwint has been pushing the Zolezzo to act. They found a witness."

Molly's head shot up and he stared at her in disbelief. "A witness—?"

"Gustav got in a carriage in front of your house on Tuesday night last week with four unidentified men."

The room went away. He saw the four glasses of liquor on the bar in his mind's eye and he sank to his knees. The implications this had on the handful of theories he'd tried so hard not to dwell on for the last week quickly, sickeningly recalculated in his head and he whimpered. "He didn't wander out drunk and fall off a pier," he breathed and hugged himself tighter. "He was taken?"

Ema slipped off her stool and slowly approached the trembling tiefling. "Molly. Show me your hands."

He lifted his chin and gave her a confused look.

"Show me," she insisted, her face dark and stern.

"I'm sorry," he repeated and unwrapped his arms from around himself and presented his hands for her inspection. The only rings that adorned them were the two he'd had made for his marriage and he could not stop them from shaking. "I didn't hear you knock. I've been drunk ever since—"

"You foolish boy!" Emerald barked. "When will you learn? When you hurt you tell the people who love you! That is what we are for!" She grasped his hands in her tiny ones and pulled him to her, tucking his horned head under her chin and clutched him tightly. His whole body spasmed as he broke down and bawled loudly. "I love you, Molly, and I came looking for you and I couldn't reach you and you were not there for me, either. You are my family, you fool boy," she chastised him and wept. "I need you just as much as you need me."

He begged her forgiveness through stuttering sobs and once he'd calmed, Ema released him, closed the shop, and set about caring for her grandson. "I'll go get your medicine. You'll stay here tonight and I'll straighten you out." He opened his mouth and she cut him off before he could utter a syllable. "Ah-ah! No buts."

Molly smiled at the old woman, wiping his face with a handkerchief she gave him. "I was just going to say, 'yes, Yiayia'."

.x.

Nine days later while Marion Lavorre dressed that morning her daughter's voice echoed in her head, checking in as she did occasionally with her whereabouts and news.

"Hello Moma, we're in Zadash. I want to come see you but I'm not sure when we can. We've been travelling all over since we…"

Marion took a deep breath and read from a note she'd prepared for the occasion.

"Dear Friend's husband missing two weeks ago. Gustav Fletching. Tall, half-elf, ashy brown hair, brown eyes. Please send him a message. Ask if safe."

.x.

In a carriage rattling its way northward, Gustav could not suppress a shuddering breath as Jester's voice suddenly echoed in his head, breaking a terrible silence. Desmond cracked an eye open and watched him as he bent at the waist, putting his head between his knees.

"Gustav, we heard you're missing! If you need us, we'll save you. Where are you? Are you ok? If you're not safe, like, cough or—"

He tried to calm his breathing and whisper into his hands as quietly as he could. "En route to Shady Creek," he said, then coughed rather deliberately twice. He paused. Fearing that the cough might not be properly interpreted, he added "please help me."

The rattling of the carriage covered the actual words, but wasn't enough to hide his whispering. Gustav shouted in pain as his braid was viciously pulled, causing him to lurch toward Desmond.

"A little late for prayers, don't you think? Shut your mouth and sit up straight."

"Forgive me, Master Jagentoth!" Gustav cried and was released. He sat back against the seat and squeezed his eyes shut, bemoaning the loss of more words he could have added to the reply. He would have liked to have asked who his ethereal, Nicodranan-accented would-be savior was. The message had come to him as if in a dream and the reality of it and any hope it might have brought him slipped further away with every mile he drew closer to House Jagentoth.

.x.

Jester blinked and her hand flew up to her mouth. She made a small, startled squeak as his brief message was relayed. She waited a few moments for more, but the spell faded in silence broken only by Gustav's pained breathing.

"He's alive, but it sounds bad. He's being taken to Shady Creek."

"Shady Creek!" Beau shouted. "That fuckin' place?"

"And does the name 'Jagentoth' mean anything to anyone?"

Caleb swallowed and his brows came together. "It is the name of the family that controlled the Iron Shepherds."

Jester trembled at the name. "Oh shit, that's not good. It sounded like someone heard him maybe and hit him maybe and he said 'Forgive me, Master Jagentoth.' He's going to that place? This is really, really bad." She hugged herself.

Fjord wrapped an arm around her. "It's ok, Jes."

"It's really not, though!"

Caduceus tilted his head to the side. "But we cleaned them out. There shouldn't be any more Iron Shepherds."

"Yeah, we slaughtered them!" Veth exclaimed and clenched her fists.

"Unless the Jagentoths got new ones," Beau added.

"Well, shit."

"I'm just saying, maybe the demand for slaves is still there. And they've already got Gustav calling them 'master'. That poor noodle-armed circus boy won't last long if that's the case."

"Now," Fjord rubbed Jester's back. "We don't know that. Let's stay positive, here. We know he's alive, we know where he's going, and we know who's got him."

Caleb nodded. "Ja, this is very useful information. Und we have an ally there in Miss Mardun. Perhaps we may get some assistance from her."

"See? It's ok, Jester," Fjord reassured her. "Plus, we're a shitton stronger than we were back then and so far we have the drop on them."

She sniffed and nodded. "They hurt Gustav who is a sweet, squishy, noodle-circus boy. It would make me feel a lot better if we stomped them good."

Caduceus rubbed his hands together absently. "How about you, Yasha? This is making you real anxious."

"It is, yes," she agreed and folded her arms. "I would like to crush them."

Veth nodded. "Me, too. For Gustav's sake, and for old time's sake. When did they leave Nicodranas?"

"Moma said he went missing two weeks ago."

"Ok, let's talk logistics, get all our ducks lined up," Fjord advised. "If we leave Zadash tonight we can be there in a couple of weeks, right?"

Beau cracked her neck. "Might be too late."

"Thank you, Miss Sunshine."

"What? I'm being realistic. We might not catch them."

Caleb shook his head. "If we were to arrive before they do, we might also pass them along the route and alert them to our presence."

"Not if we ride at night!" Veth grinned. "I say we get horses and ride like the wind, all night! We can camp in your bubble during the day, Caleb. They'll never see us."

Beau rubbed her chin. "That's a pretty dope plan, Veth. I like it."

Caleb nodded. "If one of you keeps a little light, Caduceus and I may follow that."

The Mighty Nein met each other's eyes and nodded.

Fjord slapped his knee. "Alright. Let's go rescue us a noodle-boy!"

Jester Lavorre closed her eyes and cast the last of such spells she could manage for the day, sending a message back to her mother.

"Moma we know Gustav! He's being taken—somewhere we know where he is no big deal we'll get him. Don't worry. Tell you friend we'll—"

Marion laughed in delighted surprise. "What wonderful news! Please be safe, my little Sapphire. If there's any more news, please let me know. I will relay it. I love you."

Beau sidled up to Jester a little while after she had messaged her mother and leaned in to whisper to her. "Hey, uh. Why didn't you tell her where?"

"What?"
"You kind of panicked in your message there. You ok?"

Jester fidgeted but Beau was too focused to be thrown off topic. "I never told her."

"You—?"

"I never told her I got taken by slavers!" she hissed, trying to keep the conversation between the two of them.

"Aw, Jes. I'm sorry, I—"

"It's ok. It's ok, really. I just, it was a while ago and it was the first time I'd seen her since I left and I didn't want to tell her that I got, you know, almost sold off as someone's pet or something? And it was the same visit after Molly died and I didn't tell her anything about him at all because I didn't want her to worry."

Beau blinked at her for a beat before pulling her into an embrace. "Totally get it."

Jester hugged back and thanked her.

"You should tell her though. About Molly."

"Yeah. She's heard a lot worse stuff now, huh?"

Beau laughed. "For sure. When we bring Gustav back to Nicodranas we can tell her all about him," she said with a grin which suddenly faded. "Oh man."
"What?"
"We're goin' to Shady Creek. We're gonna go right past—"

"Oh yeah. Oh man. We should have a memorial. It's almost been a year, right?"

Beau took a deep breath. "Yeah. Let's do that on the way back."

Jester nodded and they went to rejoin the rest of the Mighty Nein who were already busy making rescue plans.

.x.

After Marion demanded he get cleaned up, Molly struggled with detoxing, taking a medicinal tea that Emerald got at the apothecary and sweating out the remaining poison from his system. He would visit Marion for lunch every day and slept over at Ema's for about a week, curled up in a pile of pillows on the floor of her little apartment. He hadn't felt well enough to visit the park, but did call on Lily and Poppy and learned more about the night at the club. It was a relief to learn from them that he'd not been in his right mind, but hearing that Gustav had seen him with Sinamon was a tough blow.

Poppy hugged him around his middle and leaned against his side.

"I'm so sorry I didn't run to help," Lily muttered, fists clenched.

Molly rubbed tears from his eyes and shook his head. "S'my fault."

He felt his sister's head rub against his ribs as she shook it. "No," she said just above a whisper. "No. Not your fault."

He wrapped his right arm around Poppy and pulled Lily in with his left and felt a great relief from the long, warm hug they gave him.

On the morning of the seventeenth day of Gustav's disappearance, Molly awoke early, even though he was tired and could have lounged for several more hours. The divan was not the most comfortable for sleeping, but he couldn't bear to sleep alone in their empty bed. Molly's heart ached, but the thin wisp of hope that Marion gave him, that she might be able to get him a message, helped tamp down the panic. He got up, made his tea, and put a chair in the open doorway as he and Gustav had done together in happier times. He watched people and seagulls and listened to the city as it geared up for another day. When the messenger approached the door, she was surprised to see the demure tiefling with the ponytail wearing a long, pink, linen day-dress calmly sipping tea and wondered if she had the right house. "Message for Moliggan Brightside?" she said, reading the note as she had been instructed to do. "Good news, come see me. Marion."