Page 74 of The Death Wish

‘Pitch. Oh ,Christ…Pitch, do you see it? That grand house.’

Until then, he’d still been absorbing their sudden shift from chamber to open air, but he’d have to have been blind not to see what Silas pointed out now. There on the shore, perhaps a mile across the way, was a formidable mansion. Itsmassive pedimented porch was supported by dramatic, paired Tuscan columns; two storeys of classical architecture, with north and south wings, that spread itself unashamedly across the manicured lawns and careful gardens. A boat-shed was further down the shoreline, with a long jetty that stretched like a wooden finger; pointing at them.

He glanced at Silas. The ankou was terribly pale. ‘Do you know this place?’

Silas’s mouth worked, as though he meant to answer, but no sound came. There was an odd distance in his eyes that made Pitch feel suddenly and terribly alone.

‘Silas, please –’

‘Charlie, be careful.’ Edward’s cry turned Pitch’s head.

The lad seemed overcome by the very same melancholy that had struck Silas. He stepped over the seat, and would have gone further had Edward not been holding his sleeve. His mouth was agape, his eyes rounded like a deer caught in torchlight. Both of them focused on the damned house. The ferryman had not moved from where they stood, sentinel at the prow. Their armour held embellishments of gold that Pitch had not noticed before.

‘No. No, this cannot be.’ Charlie let out the strangest sound, something layered with both anguish, and joy.

‘What the blazes is wrong with you two?’ Pitch demanded.

The ankou swallowed, and it looked a painful thing. ‘Pitch…that’s…’ Silas’s lashes fluttered and Pitch truly thought the man about to pass out.

‘Go on.’ He worked at being gentler now. ‘What do you see there? Are there souls?’

Silas shook his head, still intent on the shore, as the boat drifted ever silently away, headed out deeper onto the lake.

Charlie spoke first. ‘That is Rossdhu House. That is where I was born. My home.’

Finally Silas moved. His eyes dark as they set on the lad. ‘We are in Scotland.’

Charlie nodded. ‘This is Loch Lomond.’

Silas turned his attention back to the water, which lay like a sheet of pewter around them. He leaned over the edge, his fingers hovering just above the surface. He trembled. Pitch sat close enough to know Silas’s entire body shook.

The cold seeped into Pitch’s bones. He recalled their pillow talk, all the ankou had said of his demise. A loch. A jetty. A drowning.

And he could barely catch his breath for knowing. ‘Silas…is this the place?’

The ankou seemed smaller, more in need of Pitch’s presence. He touched his hand to Silas’s shoulder.

‘This is the place. My loch.’ The ankou’s voice was the quiet approach of a storm. ‘My grave.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

SILAS KNEWScarlet was with him, working away with tiny pats against his neck, somewhere beneath the layers of his hair. Trying to soothe. He knew Pitch sat pressed against his side, sending what warmth he could, to a man of the grave. Charlie was there too, reeling with his unexpected, perhaps unwelcome, return home.

But Silas felt a world away from them all.

He stared down into the water, and felt the centuries roll in its hidden currents. His memories of this place had been fear-riddled, engraved with unspeakable terrors, ones that seemed impossible to surmount, to ever shed.

Silas dipped his fingers into the water. Let them trail through the murder and anguish and misguided vileness that clung to each and every drop.

The scythe shifted against his finger, as though seeking to rise higher and avoid the wet memory of his constant demise here.

But Silas felt no need to recoil; only a driving need to let go this fear. It’s claws did not sink so deep anymore. He was the Pale Horseman. He was more than a drowning man.

His fingers curled with thought of Lalassu. Of the angel who had destroyed her. And discovered how much harder it was to be fearful, when one was enraged.

Michael had sought to destroy Pitch, too. The daemon who now whispered quiet words of comfort, gentle reminders that he was at Silas’s side, and would not leave. This was the creature who had truly changed the colours of Silas’s world.

He leaned into his lover, his prince, but said nothing.