Page 129 of The Fulbourn: Pitch & Sickle

‘Mr Mercer, they are over here, my dear.’

The voice was not one he’d heard in a while, and he could have wept as he hurried towards the misshapen shadows further down the ward. ‘Bess? Is that you?’

‘It is, my dear. Sybilla too, but she’s just needing to catch her breath right now. Hurry along, best we get you all out of here.’ There was a certain timbre to Old Bess’s voice, one Silas had found soothing from the moment the master of Harvington Hall had welcomed him to the residence. But to know the Valkyrie was with him, Silas could have collapsed into a maniacal heap of relief there and then.

A showy flash of light illuminated the person standing not too far ahead, and there could be no doubt it was Bess. A smartly trimmed beard was dark against skin powdered white. Jewels glinted, the red of rubies and perhaps a dash of emerald too, earrings for sure, and a tiara would explain the shimmer in the mass of light curls. Harvington Hall’s master cradled Charlie in his velvet-cuffed arms.

‘Charlie. Are you hurt?’

‘The lad is fine… Well, he will be.’ Bess coughed. ‘A little bump to the head. My fault I’m afraid. I’m not one for sports. Caught him and then managed to whack his head against the wall while I did so. He’ll come around before long though, I’m sure.’

‘And Pitch?’

‘He’s here too. Out cold as well. Be sure to let him know when he comes to that it was the column he landed against to blame for his headache, not me or Mr Ahari. I don’t want that one mad at me.’

‘It wasn’t the column,’ Silas said, tension making his shoulders stiff, his throat tight. ‘It was the flame…the Sanctuary… He has done too much.’

Silas quickened his pace and was so focused on getting to Bess that he almost collided with the figure that stepped out of the shadows. ‘Oh shit.’ A quick step and a hop saved him from a collision with the woman whose skin was barely any lighter than the shadows, her cropped short head of hair a layer of tight white curls that were luminous in the stormy atmosphere. ‘Sybilla. My god, it is good to see you.’

‘You very nearly didn’t, Silas. What the fuck did you think you were doing, coming alone like this? Telling no one?’ The Valkyrie glowered almost as well as Pitch was capable. The whites of her eyes seemed to glow. Her coat was full length and creaked as she moved, a stiff leather that blended her into the shadows even more fully. ‘The Morrigan’s seal has taken me near on an hour just to cast a fist-sized hole through. Whoever cast that magick for you from the inside saved your damn hides. Mine was not enough.’

Bess sighed. ‘My sister Palatyne has been formidable here. I did not think my youngest sister quite so talented, I’ll admit.’

‘Without that magick guiding me, we would not have gotten you out in time before the Sanctuary swallowed you whole. Who did that, Silas?’ Sybilla demanded between pressed teeth. ‘Where did that magick come from?’

‘Now perhaps is not the best time for this, Syb,’ Bess said gently. ‘They aren’t safe yet.’

The angel rubbed at her arms, holding the glare for another breath before she shouldered her way past Silas. There was a weariness to her that could not be missed, even in a room that was only lit sporadically by the crazed tempo of lightning outside.

‘Now move quickly, my dear. It’s best not to hang about.’ Bess took control with his familiar amiable manner. ‘All that nonsense down below has things rather less than sturdy up here. Mr Ahari has gone to collect our carriage, once he’s re-dressed of course. Nobody needs to see a naked elderly gent at the reins. Heavens, that would be the end of some of those poor wretches out there.’ He tutted. ‘This place is shamefully overcrowded. Small wonder those Morrigan vipers enjoyed hiding amongst all the misery and chaos. No one would notice a few more bad eggs about.’

Sybilla pushed aside some divider curtains that would have been a paltry barrier between patients in their beds, rusted rings squealing as they moved. She kept rubbing at her arm, enough so that Silas wondered if she had received an injury as she worked to free them. ‘And what the bloody hell is this all about, Mercer?’ She flung her hands towards hulking shadows upon the ground. Four, in fact.

The teratisms were coming too, drawing in ragged breaths suited to someone upon their deathbed. Which, in truth, the teratisms were.

‘They will not harm you.’ He yelled it, to ensure the Valkyrie heard him. She seemed in the mood for a sudden strike.

‘I hope that is reciprocal?’ Bess said, adjusting his hold on Charlie, who muttered but stayed with eyes closed.

‘Of course. They will heed me.’ Silas moved closer to the teratisms, who appeared as dazed as he. The one with the crooked limbs was doing something unsightly with their arm, as though trying to snap it back to where it ought to be without much success. All of them looked to him as he approached. ‘Easy, easy now. You’ve done so very well.’

‘It seems you have much to tell us of your adventures in my sister’s labyrinth. She always did enjoy a maze, that one,’ Old Bess said, almost too quietly to be heard above the thunder and the shudder of brickwork around them.

‘If Satine ever lets them out of the bloody Village again,’ Sybilla retorted. She crouched down to the ground, near to where another window had been shattered of most of its glass, a few triangular shards clinging to the rim.

Silas peered into the shadows, searching for sign of the daemon. ‘Where is Pitch? I don’t see him.’ He stifled the curl of panic that came with saying it.

‘He’s all right, Silas,’ Bess soothed, jewels sparking like the luminous sprays on Edward’s miniature river. ‘Down to your right, the last column there, that dark lump is your daemon. He must have been lighter than Mr Ahari catered for, as he went the furthest. But he’s breathing. Lucid enough to grumble when I touched him.’

Silas balled his fists and headed in the direction given, not caring much that he stubbed his toes within a few paces on a length of chain of all things, a discarded restraint.

A hiss came from the huddled form of the Valkyrie.

‘Syb?’ Bess called.

The angel grunted and rose to her feet, this time with a bundle in her arms. Edward’s head rested against her chest, one arm hanging limp at his side. ‘This is the man you came for.’

The oddest tone gripped her words, and Silas could not decide if it was a touch of fear or reverence. The Valkyrie did not seem the sort for either thing.