Page 130 of The Death Wish

‘Tell me what must be done.’ Silas dug his hands into the dirt; felt it drive beneath his fingernails. The rumbling grew more intense, enough that Byleist braced his fingers against the ground to steady himself. A dusky light held court now, the sky clouded over.

‘Silas –’

‘Tell me what must be done.’

‘It cannot be done. That is what I’m trying to tell you. The fae circle is held closed by the reneging of his promise.’

Silas drew in deep lungfuls of air, letting the waft of decay seep into him, spread through his body like a welcome disease. ‘If it can be closed, it can be opened. Tell me what must be done.’

A bird dropped from the sky. Landing dead between them. Byleist’s cry was one of horror and awe. ‘My lord –’

‘I’m losing patience.’

An anguished sound came from the fae. ‘You will be harmed –’

‘Byleist.’ Silas’s roar brought with it the fall of another sparrow, another fluttering of butterflies. And a sharp crack.

A fine break in one of the stones.

The fae’s black eyes widened, his pretty lips parting in astonishment. ‘You have found it.’

‘Found what?’ Silas growled, another booming reverberation moving through the ground, as though all the long ago-dead raged with him. No matter the world or realm, no matter the longevity of the life within it, there was no place that death did not know.

‘Your way.’ Byleist spent a moment in a clear struggle with himself. Then he muttered what could only be curses. ‘The stones, they are what hold you. Break the stones. It will not sever your allegiance to the UnSeelie Court, but it will free you from this purgatory. I cannot, I will not, aid you in this. And I do not know how it might harm you, but I dare say that does not worry you much.’ He rose to his feet, an imperious bearing to the way he stood over Silas. ‘I shall not stay to watch, though. I do not trust that the urge to save you from yourself will not overwhelm me. Perhaps then I would become another bird to fall from the sky.’

Silas had been focused upon the ground, upon the shift of every grain of soil that might aid him. He raised his head. ‘I would not harm you.’

Byleist’s sly smile returned. ‘Oh, my dear, that is a lie. There is nothing you will not do for him. None are safe whilst the lord of death seeks his lover. Perhaps he should have known that not even the entire UnSeelie Court would be enough to keep you away.’ He raised his bone hand to his lips, kissed his white fingers, and blew the kiss to Silas.

‘Thank you, Byleist. For all.’

He did not speak of seeing the fae again one day. What point in any more promises to be broken?

‘Good luck, Silas Mercer. If you free yourself, I hope you find him well enough to know you, and glad enough of your arrival. You chose a troubled creature to love.’

Silas turned his attention to the circle. ‘And he in return.’

When he glanced up again, the Dullahan was gone.

Silas dug his feet deeper into the soil, and slipped the scythe from his finger, forming the weapon he’d take to the stones; a war hammer. A slender weapon with a silver twined handle, and a ridged hammerhead with an opposing sharp spike.

He stood over the nearest stone, the one already hindered by a crack. Silas settled his grip and raised his arms over his head. Lightning flashed but the thunder did not dare to rumble. Silas closed his eyes, picturing Pitch as he led Silas down to this circle, with dark betrayal on his mind.

The anger needed little kindling to spark again. He opened his eyes. Took aim.

And whistled for all the deadness in the ground to heed him. His note was as sharp as the spike on his hammer. And he drove them both down.

The earth rose at his summons, pushing the stones forth like unwanted children from its womb. Sending them up against the driving force of the hammer.

The scythe struck the stone, lacing it with cracks. Silas spun the hammer, turned the spike downwards now, and completed the blow.

The tip met stone and shattered it.

The first of the faerie circle stones succumbed to him beneath a flash of silent lightning.

Silas breathed in the victory, its scent making him heady, craving the next dose. He licked his lips, readying them for another note. This one was higher than the last, drawing upon all the thousands of years of death that were packed into the earth, dragging it up from the darkness where the deathnotes of those creatures great and small were long since broken down.

The faerie circle’s magick was attacked on two fronts.