Page 157 of The Death Wish

‘Well, not all of it,’ Enoch said, as though the idea was simply preposterous. ‘I have a world to command, and a war to see too, and the Celestials are most demanding on my time. But I dipped my toe when I could. Am I using that phrase as intended, Silas?’

The sudden swing of the conversation had Silas stuttering. ‘I suppose it could...maybe. Yes, my lord. That’s it exactly.’ He bobbed his head, completely at a loss as to proper etiquette. Scarlet left Pitch’s hair to plant themselves against Silas’s bare chest, where the hair made for easy handholds. It pinched, but he was more concerned with how still Pitch had become.

‘Scarlet was with me in the cockaigne.’ The prince spoke too carefully. It made his stifled anger more obvious. ‘So, you were there when I was held in that coffin?’

The boy, the lord, nodded, rocking on his feet, hands behind his back. ‘For some of it, yes. Like I said, eyes and ears. I was an observer only. It is not for me to interfere in the design of the fates.’

Silas counted his breaths, feeling his own ire rise. The Lord of Arcadia was close to godliness then; they all spent their time watching on, rarely interceding.

‘You just stood by,’ Pitch said quietly. ‘You stood by when so many suffered.’

Scarlet pressed against Silas’s chest, as still as the prince.

‘Pitch…’ he warned softly.

‘I know you suffered, yes, Vassago.’

Pitch shook his head, knuckles pale. ‘As Silas did, and Sybilla, and all those creatures who had no hope of challenging the horrors that befell them.’

‘But they had a hope,’ Enoch said. ‘In you. And Silas. And Sybilla. Or they had hope in themselves, as it was for Charlie,and in their purpose, as it was for Edward. You did not need me, not a single one of you. And that is how it had to be. Or all hope was lost, anyway. Seraphiel chose his path, as did Samyaza. It is not for me to deny any creature their freedom by interfering. The chance to forge one’s own destinyismy will. That is what I told Lucifer, and he understood.’

Silas stared down at the wisp, whose rainbow coloured his skin. ‘Lucifer’s free will nearly destroyed our chances, but in the end, he was the one who stood aside and allowed me to enter the lake. I’d like to thank him for that.’

‘That won’t be possible, I’m afraid,’ Enoch said.

Silas glanced at Pitch, who frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘He has gone to the gods. Lucifer, and Seraphiel, gave of themselves to prevent the breakdown of the Seal. And to give you time, Vassago. Time you used in a manner that does their sacrifices honour.’

‘May the gods seat King Lucifer at their right hand,’ Forneus said, with reverence. He had shifted from prone to kneeling, his lanky legs curled up beneath him. All heads bowed.

Silas’s blood chilled as the truth sunk in. ‘Lucifer did not survive?’

‘He did not.’ Enoch’s tone was like his features, neither here nor there; not unkind, but no hint of empathy, either. ‘He made his choice, many of them, in fact. And they led him to the end of his road. It was his fate, and he set course towards it willingly.’

‘Oh my god.’ Silas’s heart sought to pound out of his chest. ‘Did all at the Sanctuary succumb?’

If one so powerful as Lucifer was lost, what hope for Charlie and Edward?

‘No,’ Enoch said. ‘Because Lucifer ensured your friends would be safe. As he promised.’

Scarlet lifted from Silas’s chest and flew to Pitch as he stumbled to the bedside, sitting heavily on the mattress. He stared ahead, fingers tight on the bedclothes.

Silas crouched down in front of him, placing his hands on his thighs, caring little when his own blanket slipped dangerously. ‘Pitch, I am so sorry.’ The relationship between prince and king had been complex, to say the very least, but Silas thought at the last it had softened. ‘He did so much for us in the end. We have much to be grateful to him for.’

If Pitch heard him, there was no telling. He kept staring at something beyond Silas’s shoulder. Beyond his reach.

‘Was this his doing, then?’ Pitch said, his tone dull. He did not look at Silas, but he shifted his hand so they touched. ‘Did Lucifer make this death wish? Is it he who brought us back?’

Silas’s legs shook with holding his weight in such a crouch, but he could not move. ‘He was powerful enough for such things?’

‘Perhaps,’ Enoch said. ‘If he had died as strong as he’d been made. But Lucifer was much ravaged by all that came to pass. He was dying, as was the last remaining shred of Seraphiel’s soul. Together, they were enough to prevent Michael, and the lake, from putting a premature end to your endeavour. But Lucifer had nothing left to give to a death wish.’

Pitch stood, and the suddenness would have cast Silas onto his arse if not for Scarlet. The wisp burrowed at his back, just strong enough to prevent a fall.

‘Then who fucking did, my lord?’ Pitch chewed on the title. ‘We have had a fucking rotten day, so forgive me if my patience wears thin.’

Silas scrambled to his feet, reaching for Pitch. A wave of light-headedness struck. His outstretched arm blurred through speckled vision. A strike of memory dazzled him; an image of light and silhouettes. A goddess reaching for him.