Page 30 of The Death Wish

‘Hello, Charlie.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

SILAS ONLYended the hugging under great duress; namely Pitch’s threats to burn Silas’s hair if he did not let Charlie have some room to breathe.

‘You are stronger than a dozen oxen, Silas. Leave him be.’

But he’d refused to let go of Charlie’s hand as they made their way inside, and could not take his eyes from the lad, which was causing poor Charlie some consternation.

‘It is truly me, Silas. Do you not believe it?’

Waking in the cemetery, feeling as though he could take on any foe, any force, that awaited, and knowing the passing of all the lost souls had been so very peaceful, Silas had already been filled with happiness. But now…now he was strained at the seams with utter joy. ‘I am so pleased to see you, Charlie.’ His eyes stung, and he knew the onset of his tears obvious to all, but what did that matter?

‘You’re not going to start with the hugging again, are you?’ Pitch sighed. ‘You may want to sit elsewhere, Charlie, for your own good.’

The lad laughed and Silas thought he might just fly apart with contentment.

‘Are you sure you are well?’ Silas asked, for the third time.

After asking a housemaid where they might find some privacy she had directed them to this room; part formal diningroom, part parlour, with a settee of faded sage velvet and deep mahogany fitted into the corner nearest the fireplace. With its larger size they were all afforded a seat without being atop one another, but that had not stopped Silas from sitting almost on top of Charlie so he could determine for himself the answer to the question.

‘I am.’

The lad was certainly tired, but no more than a night out would have made him. There were no evident bruises, scratches, or damage. Charlie’s choppy hair needed trimming, and he looked to have spent far too long in his clothing: his brown corduroy trousers, and yellow-creme jacket with its spotted waistcoat beneath, creased beyond measure.

Pitch finished with giving the maid instructions to make her way to the Golden Rule at once and wake their companions. He joined Silas and Charlie, dropping onto the vacant end of the settee with a sigh. His cloak puffed up like the top of a pink mushroom.

‘How many times has Charlie told you he is fine?’ he said. ‘Would you have him strip to prove it to us? Is that your end game here?’

Silas frowned but Charlie burst out laughing, blue eyes sparkling. ‘I worried you might have changed, after all you’ve been through, Tobias.’

Pitch’s grin was there, but Silas was attuned to his subtler signs. The lad’s remark was meant in kindness, but troubled Pitch nonetheless. As did Charlie’s next remark.

‘Edward will be ever so pleased to see you both. Sanu has showed us many things, a lot of which we could not understand without context to do so…but we knew you both were alive…and that was more than enough for us.’

‘Has Edward’s circumstance…changed?’ Pitch was gruff, picking at his nails as though whatever the answer he cared very little.

Silas made yet another silent declaration to punch Seraphiel in the teeth, if that opportunity ever arose. Even if it were the mere spectre of the angel, Silas was equipped to show the ghost his displeasure.

‘He’s doing very well, truly, Tobias.’ Charlie rose and pressed his hands towards the fire where it crackled cheerily in the bricked hearth. The light drew out the slivers of auburn in his hair. Of which there seemed far more than Silas recalled. ‘He is a strong man, and endures his hardships with such a stoic temperament. I am terribly proud of him. And he assures me he feels no worse than he did since that day in the Fulbourn, when it all began.’ It was clear the lad’s feelings for the lieutenant had only grown since last Silas had watched them together at the country estate. ‘But I will be honest with you both, and say I fear he is not being honest with me about his suffering. I hope this can all be over and done with, before too long.’

Silas rose and moved to stand behind the lad, placing his hands on his shoulders. Charlie was no slip of a thing, even if he was diminutive in height there had always been something steely about him, but when he reached his hand to find Silas’s, and clung on tight, it was a timely reminder that he was young, and human, after all.

‘Does he say anything of Seraphiel?’ Pitch asked, and Silas knew the question would have burned its way up his throat.

Charlie took a moment to answer. ‘Not specifically. Only that whatever lies inside Edward is restless. Impatient, I think, now that you are so close.’

‘To the Sanctuary?’ Silas asked.

But Charlie shrugged. ‘To where you need to be. But if where we’ve been waiting is a Sanctuary…well, I dare say you’llbe disappointed. And you won’t like the journey there. It was a bastard of a walk on foot. I’m knackered.’

‘Well, we are hardly stupid enough to walk. It shall be horses for us.’ Pitch had forgone his nails and was punishing a lose thread on the settee.

‘I didn’t have that luxury. Sanu needed to remain with Edward, and the Priest’s Hole is not exactly near to any stables, or even a paddock where I could have stolen a horse.’

‘How did you find us, Charlie?’ Silas took up another log to throw on the fire, as the lad rubbed his hands before the subtle flames.

‘A cuckoo arrived, even though it is far too early for them in the season.’ Charlie’s grin was wry. ‘But since when has anything made any sense of late? Sanu gave the bird a few strands of her tail, and that seemed to be all that was needed. I understood I was to follow it, and it led me…here.’