It must. I suppose it's pretty complicated even when you're not five.

The kids are a little more subdued at home. Rahim wants Élie to read to him, and Ines toddles over and listens with interest that Naima's never seen her show before, although she's not very sure whether that's more a fact about Ines or more a fact about what Naima has seen. 

Afterwards they can eat dinner, and make conversation with the other people in the house, and then eventually put the children to bed.

"Will you be here tomorrow? You and papa?" asks Rahim.

"No, darling, not tomorrow. But we will be back as soon as we can be. You know I love you very much, don't you?"

Rahim nods. "Will you come back soon?"

"I think so. And I will miss you every day until then."

"We'll be back home with you just as soon as we possibly can, love." And then, because he can't help himself – "Do you want one more story?" 

"Yes! One more!"

He can have the one with the hill giant and the woodcutter's son. And then it's time to really for real go to sleep. 

Rahim will try to go to sleep. Even though he wants his parents to stay forever and if he sleeps they won't be here when he wakes up.

And she and Élie can go... not home. They don't really exactly have a home right now. They can go to the time lapse demiplane, probably, that's at least where she's been doing most of her sleeping.

It wasn't really enough, I don't think. I guess nothing will be enough except winning.

It's not fair to them. That's not the most important consideration in the world right now, but – we owe them more. 

Yeah.

I'm scared. Not of Deskari, but - of what happens when hell realizes what the game is. I keep thinking it's insane to talk about it, since you probably either accepted everything that might happen twenty years ago, or are even more terrified than I am, or both, but - I keep wishing there was some way to be reassured that everything will be all right. And there isn't, because it might not be.

I'm – thinking of what I might have said if you'd told me twenty years ago that I wouldn't be scared of Deskari. Probably that I'd have no reason to be, since Deskari can't maledict me and other than that one death is much the same as another. Somehow, the more powerful we become, the more frightened I am. 

Right? It's absurd. It's not as if we haven't faced down death and hell a dozen times already, or as if we weren't in just as much real danger before. But - we have a lot more to lose, now, than we did.

Can he hold her? He'd like that right now. 

If you'd told me twenty years ago – or fifteen, or even five – that I'd live long enough to have a family, that would have been really surprising. And here I was just starting to get used to the idea. 

He can definitely hold her. She'd like to be held.

I sort of feel like I should be more scared of hell. I mean, I don't, because it wouldn't change anything, but I'm abstractly aware that if Asmodeus does manage to grab hold of us I'll be unimaginably upset, but - it's none of what I'm fixating on. I just keep thinking about everything I desperately want to do and might not have a chance to. Which is weird - it's not like I didn't spend a couple years facing down expected non-existence - but I don't think I had really realized then that all the things that I want now were possible.

Now I just keep thinking - I want to have more children. I want to raise the ones we have. I want to replicate the remedies and then teach everyone how to make them. I want to live with you in a beautiful house and grow old beside you. And - I just keep thinking that there must be some way to make it certain, and there isn't.

Lean. 

Does it help if I'm scared of Hell enough for the both of us? I want those things too, but when I try to imagine too far in the future I just see fire. 

She can hold him tight. It doesn't fix much, but she's going to do it anyway.

I know you are. I know you do. I wish I could be comforting about it. Or that you could. I'm not sure either of us can be.

I'm tempted to wallow in thinking about all of the things I want after this, but I'm not sure if that would be - helpful. For either of us. 

When I consider the question rationally I do realize that we're not especially likely to be trapped there forever. Or at least not more likely than we are to have our souls dissolved by the energies of the worldwound or eaten by Rovagug or something else we've never thought of. 

Oh, I'm plenty worried about all of that other stuff, too. Especially getting everyone eaten by Rovagug? I don't think this is likely, but it would really be incredibly upsetting to have tried to do something so useful and good that you had to take the shot, and ended up destroying the universe.

Sometimes one sets out to do something good and it turns out worse than you could possibly have imagined. 

...yeah. I guess you must know all about that, too.

A little, maybe. Not like this. ....And what must I sound like to you? The closest I've ever been to Hell is nightmares, and – anyway, I'm sorry. It doesn't help either of us to dwell on the past. 

Oh, I was only there for - fifteen, twenty seconds? Long seconds, but by the time I was really panicking it was over. It wasn't so bad as some of the other things we've done, thanks to you. I just wish I'd had the presence of mind to kill the man instead of hesitating.

So do I. 

He's tempted to say it's better than he would have done in her place, but, on reflection, that's not exactly true. 

Nobody has the instincts for it at first. That was something we spent a great deal of time on, when – when I was younger. If you were captured, you really absolutely had to be willing to kill yourself and anyone you were with, if they couldn't manage themselves. And even then, I think we had more failures than successes.