Page 33 of The Fulbourn: Pitch & Sickle

‘That is entirelynotwhat I was suggesting.’

‘Chestnuts!’ Pitch suddenly pulled himself free, pointing across the road. ‘We need two bags this instant. Do you have any coin on you?’

As a matter of fact, he did. Jane had been forward thinking that way, pressing a leather purse into his hand at the very last moment. ‘Just in case the soirée is terribly dull,’ she had said with a smirk.

It calmed him to imagine she thought they may do exactly as they were now: taking fleeting advantage of a manufactured freedom. And had the Lady Satine not told him she had no intention of dictating either Silas’s journey or the prince’s?

Pitch dashed off, skirts and cloak lifting to show a glimpse of stocking-clad ankle, which was far more alluring than it ought to be. Silas focused instead on not getting run down by a growler as it thundered past. By the time Silas joined him, Pitch was already holding two paper bags brimming with hot chestnuts.

‘Two pence.’ The vendor was missing a front tooth, the request hissing through the gap. He held out his hand, waiting as Silas fumbled about for the coins. Pitch was moaning around a mouthful of chestnuts, which admittedly smelled glorious, a hint of honey upon them if Silas wasn’t mistaken.

They continued on, Silas having to pry the second bag from Pitch’s grasp. The daemon let them go with very clear reluctance.

‘We can buy more, don’t be greedy.’ Silas tried to sound stern, which was difficult with the ridiculous noises the prince was making as he indulged.

‘An asylum.’ Pitch spoke through a mouthful.

‘Pardon?’

‘He is in an asylum. His family have had him committed.’ Pitch toyed with the chestnuts at the bottom of his bag.

‘Edward?’ Silas swallowed. ‘Good god, the poor man. Which one?’

‘The Fulbourn, in Cambridgeshire. Not so very far.’ The daemon played at lightness, as though it hardly bothered him that the lieutenant had been treated so badly. But Silas read Pitch well enough now.

‘And you think Charlie has followed him there?’

‘What do you think, Silas? The lad is better known to you than me.’ The subtlest of pauses. ‘Do you think he would have followed when they bundled Edward off?’

Silas nodded slowly, the brush of something like hope finding him. ‘Yes, yes, he would. He is tenacious, just as you said. And Edward’s disappearance was sudden, wasn’t it? Perhaps Charlie had no chance to send word.’ It did not account for why no news had come from the lad since then, but Silas would take this for what it was: an explanation that did not have Charlie running away…or worse…lying facedown in an East End gutter somewhere.

Pitch rolled a chestnut between his fingers. ‘I should have told you as soon as I knew. I didn’t, and I’m sorry for that.’ He darted a sideways glance at Silas, who waited for him to go on. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t.’ He popped the last of the chestnuts into his mouth and scrunched up the bag so tightly he’d be sure to stain his gloves with the oily residue left behind. ‘That’s a lie. Part of it was that I didn’t want you to know, for you’ve seen Edward’s state of mind and understand exactly why he is a candidate for such a place.’

It was tempting to embrace him, there and then, but it was not, Silas decided, what was needed.

‘Oh I understand all right,’ he said with a rough clearing of his throat. ‘And the sooner you get it into your thick skull that you are not to blame for it, the less I shall be annoyed by your insistence on shouldering the blame for Edward’s delicate constitution.’ He definitely had Pitch’s attention. The daemon had one superb eyebrow raised, his mouth circled with surprise. ‘I’m loath to say it, but perhaps he’s in the best place he can be. The doctors may be able to ease his troubles.’

That seemed to interest Pitch. ‘Do you truly think so?’

Silas doubted it, very much, but the daemon looked so achingly hopeful. ‘It’s possible.’ He mused over another thought. ‘So what happens now? Will the Lady have us go to the asylum, or will Edward be brought to the Village?’

‘Why does the Lady get to decide on that?’ he snapped. ‘This is my confounded fucking quest, is it not? The decision should be mine.’

Silas considered his reply. This was not the first time Pitch had voiced his displeasure at being ordered about. And Silas did not blame him for it. ‘What wouldyoudo, then?’

‘I would abandon the fucking quest altogether and go dancing and drinking until I could not remember any of my names. You would come with me of course, and we’d get riotously drunk, and you’d kiss me like you just did another hundred times over. And not just on my lips either.’ Pitch heaved a weighted sigh. ‘But we should go to Cambridge…now.’

‘Pardon? Go now?’ Silas was stuck further back in the conversation, the part where he’d be visiting Pitch’s body with his lips.

‘Why not? It is the perfect time. No one knows who we are.’ He swept his hand towards the road. ‘I’ve just seen a leipreachan fae look right through us to ogle the chestnut cart.’ He sniffed. ‘No accounting for taste of course, but there we are. We are invisible, Silas. We could catch a train and be there in a couple of hours.’ He brightened with his idea, and Silas could not bring himself to extinguish that spark. ‘I’ll find my way into the asylum, present the watch to Edward if need be, we’ll find out what it is he knows or has…and we shall be done with this malarkey.’

‘Do you think it’s that simple? You just need to speak with him?’

‘It must be. He’s human, and not one in a fine state either. What else is he capable of? He’s hardly going to sail me across Blood Lake.’ Pitch shook his head, a scowl marring his features. ‘Maybe he has another trinket for me…or he has the blasted front-door key to Seraphiel’s fucking Sanctuary, who knows. But if at the very worst we do need to get him out, how would that trouble us? We’ve faced far more formidable opponents than a lunatic asylum’s chief physician, have we not?’

Silas nodded, slowly though, to give himself time to work out an objection that would not see Pitch storming off in a huff. Anyway, he was not so sure hewishedto object. Much of what the daemon said made sense. And it would mean finding out if Charlie was with the lieutenant now, instead of more delay with running back to Holly Village and waiting for others to decide the course of action. From what Lady Satine had told him about the ankou he’d been, bluntly determined and strong of will, his former reanimated selves would not have thought twice about heading off right now.

‘We have faced far worse indeed,’ he replied. ‘But the elixir is uncertain… And what if the Morrigan should find us whilst we are about on our own?’