Page 76 of The Death Wish

‘You should be there with them, Silas.’ Pitch’s voice warmed him, every bit as his touch. ‘There must be so much you hope to learn. Once I am delivered, I shall have the ferryman return you, I promise.’

The words snapped Silas’s trance like a squall against a sapling. He looked at Pitch, for what felt like the first time in an age.

‘When the time comes you shall be with me. We will both return.’

Pitch’s nod was a gentle brush against Silas’s arm.

The boat struck uncertain waters and the calm, mirrored surface was devoured by a sudden roughness. Charlie let out a cry of surprise, and Scarlet a chitter of indignation, as a fine spray of water doused all in the boat. They rocked with vigour from side to side and Silas’s throat ran dry.

‘Hold fast. We approach.’ The Ferryman’s lantern did not sway, despite the motion of the boat as it moved through the waves.

The smaller island was very near, and the boat clearly headed towards it. A structure was visible upon the land; broken shapes at through clinging vines and winter-stripped branches. A ruin, most likely. Its shape teased at Silas’s memories: bringing forth notions of exploration on summer days, and kisses stolen against moss-ravaged stone.

‘That is our way.’ It was Edward who spoke, but with the oddest tenor, like the boat still drifted in that chamber and echoes swelled his words.

‘Inchgalbraith Castle?’ Charlie asked.

The boat roiled with the waves. Silas breathed against the ill-feeling that came. His ancient fear still teased at him; it was tattooed deep. But he’d never allow it’s head free here.

‘That’s not a bloody castle, it’s ruins,’ Pitch sneered, but he was not wrong. ‘Nor is that speck of land worthy of being called an island. I could not toss my head without my hair getting wet.’

‘I won’t disagree with you, Tobias,’ Charlie said. ‘The castle has been in ruins for centuries…and it makes for a very uncomfortable hiding place, I can vouch for that. I ended up with leeches one summer.’

‘That is our way.’ This time it came from the Ferryman. Their armour glistened, and Silas took note of how much brighter the hints of gold embellishment were now, even though the light was no different than before; still gripped by the cusp of a dawn that did not seem able to spill.

‘That is the best the Seraph could do?’ Pitch mocked. ‘That speck of a place is what we have fought tooth and nail to reach? We are being made fools of. This is no more a Sanctuary, than I am Queen of England.’

Edward turned. The sheen of the Ferryman’s armour cast a halo of golden light around him. He studied Pitch–there was no other word for it–studied him as though seeking to glimpse the heart beneath his ribs. ‘Then a queen you are today, Prince of Daemonkind. Hold fast, now.’

The boat lurched forward at a shocking pace. Silas toppled back. Surprise allowed the stranglehold of his fears to tighten; a torrent of panicked thoughts to rush forth.

He would fall overboard. He would drown.

He would not be there for Pitch when he’d promised.

And Charlie would try–as all his ancestors had tried–to rescue Silas; but he would fail now, as they had failed then.

They would all watch on, as the waters claimed Silas for the thousandth time.

His shout of horror and age-old fear became a roar of refusal. His topple backwards a violent opposing shift forward. He dragged Pitch with him.

‘I’m not going in this fucking water again.’ Silas shouted, screamed it really, and bloody hell it felt sublime. ‘Not again. It is done.’ More words untangled from the depths he held within. ‘Damn you, Otis. You fool. I forgive you. I forgive you.’

Silas slumped forward, chest heaving, the weight of a prince against him.

No one spoke. He’d said enough. The boat still roiled and dipped in the churning water. Water dripped from Silas’s lashes, ran from his hair down his neck. But the archaic knots of his past had come undone, the ashes of his fear scattering with the increasing wind.

‘Who is Otis, Silas?’

He raised his head, finding emerald eyes watching. ‘He was my brother.’

A shadow shifted in the daemon’s eyes, a tiny flare of his flame. ‘The man who cast you into the water.’

‘Yes.’

‘And you forgive him.’

‘I do. What alternative is there?’