Page 42 of The Death Wish

‘It is the road out of town we must take. Rather a steep climb, and not easy on the horses. My legs certainly didn’t enjoy it.’ Charlie rubbed at his thighs. ‘It just seems to go on forever.’

‘Of course it fucking does.’ Pitch stabbed at a cold piece of roast pumpkin on his plate. ‘Up a mountainside and into a priest’s hole. If ever there was proof needed that Seraphiel was a vindictive cunt, then let this be the pudding. Speaking of which, did you not say there would be dessert, Ahari? Best you sort out a few saddlebags worth of pastries and cake for me. Perhaps a slice of pie for Silas.’

Mr Ahari jumped to his feet. ‘Of course, of course. I shall wake Samuel at once. I forgot I had him still sleeping, truth be known. I’ll see to it right away.’

‘Best you do, old man.’ Pitch was as cool as winter’s northern winds. ‘Don’t let me down in this, at least.’

Mr Ahari faltered, grabbing at the back of his dining chair. ‘Tobias…I’m so –’

‘I know. Go.’

The kitsune found a new vigour at that, and dashed from the room at an admirable pace.

Pitch downed the remainder of his wine in one gulp, and reached for the nearest bottle, pouring himself a messy refill, growling at Silas when he tried to assist.

‘I’m not an invalid. Leave it, Silas.’

Pitch had had more than his fair share of the assorted wines. But Silas felt he understood the air of desperation in the daemon’s regular reach for the bottle, the quick draining of his cup. He felt it himself: the strain of keeping his smile in place, the strain of keeping from ruining this precious moment with a breakdown of any sort.

The daemon suddenly stood, his chair rocking dangerously. ‘I’m going to check on Scarlet and the bird.’

‘Shall I come with you?’ Silas asked, reaching to steady Pitch as he swayed.

‘No,’ he snapped, then deflated at once. ‘I mean to say, no thank you. I’d prefer to go alone, if you don’t mind?’

Pitch winced, as though imagining his words might cause pain. Silas had to gather himself before he replied. ‘Of course, I don’t mind, my love. Do what you must. I shall see to the horses.’

Silas was not sure if it was inebriation or something else, that gave Pitch an air of uncertainty. He chewed at his lip, appearing ready to say more.

‘Good.’ Was all he said in the end. ‘I won’t be long.’

Pitch made his way around the table, using the back of Sybilla’s chair to steady himself. He struck his knee against Charlie’s pushed-back chair, and swore with his usual eloquence. A familiar habit, which made Silas oddly content.

‘The angel set more runes in her room than it has nails in the walls,’ Isaac said, swirling the last of his own wine. ‘The wisp and the bird are safer than houses, or we’d know about it. You’re just tryin’ to get out of doin’ any work so far as packing is concerned.’ He chuckled at his own assessment, every bit as drunk as anyone else at the table. Silas thought it was the first time he’d heard the man laugh at all.

‘Fuck off back to where you came from, Isaac.’ Pitch flicked his finger at the coachman as he reached the doorway. ‘All of you, for that matter. I’ve no idea why you are here bothering usto begin with. Be good little naturals, and piss off…sooner rather than later.’

And with those congenial words, he was gone. Leaving everyone else in a subdued silence. One that was broken only by the clink of glass as Jane poured another wine.

‘Well, I for one am glad ‘e did that. I don’t fancy goodbyes much either.’ Tyvain worked at her teeth with a toothpick, jerking her free hand towards Silas. ‘Would ya be insulted if I took my leave now, too? And if I don’t say nothin’ about how I reckon you’re an all right kind of fella, brave as a saint, patient as one, too. Astaroth proves that. I won’t mention neither, that ya ain’t too hard on the eye, bloody good in a fight…and that ya deserve so much more than what ya got?’ She jerked her chin towards the empty doorway. ‘So does ‘e. That lad ain’t so bad, if I’m ‘onest. And if he cares to know, I don’t blame ‘im for runnin’ off, rather than sayin’ goodbye.’

‘Thank you, Tyvain.’ Silas tilted his half-full glass her way, blinking at the sting behind his eyes. ‘I too will hold my tongue and not say how much your braveness and vivacity has emboldened me in return. I’ll not mention that you being so full of life, helped remind me what it is to be alive. Again. I shall certainly not tell you that your friendship is very precious to me and that I thank you for it, most deeply.’

A stifled sob came from Jane. ‘This is awful,’ she sniffed, wiping at her eyes. Charlie set a comforting hand upon her shoulder, his eyes also glistening.

‘I think I almost preferred being set upon by the Hunt and having to flee,’ he said softly. ‘We had no time to think of anything but staying in one piece. Certainly not farewells.’

Isaac drew a white handkerchief from somewhere in his layers, passing it to Charlie, who in turn handed it to Jane. She accepted it with a nod, and blew her nose.

‘That daemon prick has the right idea,’ Isaac said, gruff as ever. ‘Better we just all piss off now. No parting speeches or any of that poppycock.’ He sounded a little husky to Silas’s ear.

‘I think we finally agree on something, Isaac.’ Sybilla got to her feet, and Tyvain did not even attempt to assist her. ‘I had best see to arranging a horse for Charlie, though I suppose he could ride your brown gelding if you and Tobias have Lalassu.’

Silas shrugged, pushing his plate away. He still wore his papercrown. He drew it off his head, no longer feeling the spirit of the season. ‘Whatever you think is best…’ But he frowned. ‘Wait, are you sure you are up to riding? And what horse shall you use?’

The angel moved to the door, her steps resolute and unfaltering. She paused, pressing her hands to the doorframe. ‘I am well and truly up to riding. Just not today.’

She walked on, leaving Silas staring at an empty space. He jumped to his feet, rushing to follow, leaving his papercrown fluttering in his wake.