Page 22 of The Death Wish

‘Neither is your daemon’s. Shall you reprimand the one who made it so…as you reprimand your goddess?’ Herbert’s teeth rattled against one another. The boy’s fingertips were dark in the gloom. Frozen black.

‘Forgive me.’ Silas moved closer, hands lifted in supplication, while his inner thoughts raged. He would throttle the angel who had confined Pitch to such a fate, if given half the chance. ‘Tell me, quickly, I beg you. What must be done?’

Herbert tilted his head, and with the misalignment of his eyes it seemed as though he did not look at Silas at all. ‘You take your fill.’

‘Of what? I need you to speak plainly.’

Herbert turned, and walked through the headstones and sleeping souls, towards the shed by the cherry tree. Silasfollowed, trying not to tread upon the hordes of quiet dead, even though he doubted they’d feel it if he did so. Not a one of them moved as he passed by.

‘Come. You will lie with the dead.’

On the far side of the cherry tree, hidden by the girth of its trunk until now, was an open grave. A shovel jutted from the pile of freshly dug earth, its pale handle marked in places with darker patches.

Herbert’s hand raised once more, and Silas cursed beneath his breath, as understanding came in a horrid wave. That was not dirt there at all, darkening his palms. It was blood.

There on the handle of the shovel too. Skin broken by the laborious digging of this deep grave.

The revulsion was almost enough to sway Silas from thoughts of what had been said.Lie with the dead.

The ferret rubbed against his neck, impossibly soft, and strangely comforting. Giving him the courage he needed to speak his next question. ‘I am to return to my grave?’

‘And find renewed life among the dead.’ Herbert’s shoulders twitched, his head jerking to one side. ‘The child falters.’

‘Let him go. It is enough.’

‘Get in the grave, then it will be enough.’

The hole made for him was wide but not deep. This was not designed for the bulk of a coffin, with a substantial depth for mourners to cast their fistfuls of dirt into. Silas stepped down into the hole. It was like stepping into a deep tub, his thighs level with the grass. He moved quickly, so his fears would not impede him. There was no time for them now, no place for them to grow. Silas sat down in his grave.

‘What must I do? To be strong enough?’

Herbert was unsteady as the goddess squatted him down onto his haunches. ‘Take off your clothes.’

‘What?’ Silas spluttered. ‘That is not –’

‘Let nothing come between you and this earth. Do as I say.’

‘At least turn the boy away.’ Silas rose, and pulled his shirt over his head.

‘They own the same parts as you.’

‘But they are his own. There is no need to traumatise the boy further.’

‘Stop talking and shed your clothing. You grow tiresome. The boy will remember none of this.’

With a scowl Silas pulled off his trousers, regretting his decision not to hunt for a pair of drawers when he was dressing. Once his boots were removed he was utterly naked, but only Herbert’s exposure to it concerned him. There was neither time nor place for bashfulness otherwise.

Silas sat down with knees raised, covering himself. Herbert crouched once more and picked up a handful of earth, letting it trickle onto Silas’s toes.

‘You will strengthen here, but does the vessel know what fortitude he shall require for his task?’

Silas’s scowl returned. ‘Pitch understands very well the burden he carries.’

‘But can he shoulder it as he must? I am not obliged to send you, my Pale Horseman, to the Lady of the Lake. You are mine, first and foremost.’ In all that had been said through the young man’s mouth, this sounded least human of all; the infinite reach of death was there in the sombre, unnerving sound. ‘And if Death is better served in keeping you here, where you can alleviate the imbalance caused by the Blight, then so I shall keep you.’

Silas ran cold with fury. The scythe sparked against his skin. He reached up and touched at Herbert’s chin, gently so as not to harm the fragile human, but pointedly, so the inhuman presence within knew Silas unafraid.

‘For all your might, my goddess, you and I are unable to restore the balance lost because of Blood Lake and its halo. We merely defend against it, whilst Pitch has the power to destroy that blasted thing entirely. The power and the ability.’ Silas released the goddess-touched boy. ‘I have served you well, and long. Do not think to keep me from him. Or must I remind you that I have brought about the downfall of one goddess, already?’