Page 58 of The Fulbourn: Pitch & Sickle

Pitch decided he did not like Fulbourn at all.

‘Mr Knight, what is your hurry?’ he called to Silas, who had already found the level corridor and had not stopped to wait for him.

‘I’m not certain…I just…I’m just rather curious…’

If Pitch were closer, he would have given the ankou a very hard nudge in the ribs. What the blazes had Silas so bloody preoccupied?

The stairs, and indeed the hallway ahead, were lit with a mixture of candles in brass sconces and oil lamps. But despite the ample number of them along the way, the hall was not chased free of all its shadows. There was a weight to the silence down here that Pitch did not like. And he could not hold back the nagging inclination that they’d made a mistake in coming here.

He opened his mouth to call Silas back when a man stepped out of the shadows, not far from where the ankou walked.

‘Best you stay together now.’ He appeared out of what might be an alcove or another passageway. Nothing was quite clear, despite the shudder of so many flames. ‘Quite the maze down here if you don’t know your way about.’

He was a solid-built man, stout and evidently human. His shadow waved like a flag as all the flames were disturbed by so many visitors. His heavy, dark muttonchops curved towards a square chin and framed dull brown eyes placed too close together on a face sagging with jowls. His coat was a size too big for him, a deep brown with oversized black buttons gleaming. He extended his hand to Silas.

‘I’m Dr Severs. Mr Charters’s psychiatrist.’

Silas took his hand. ‘Mr…Arthur Knight.’ The stumble over his own name was horribly evident, and a look passed between Weatherby and the doctor.

‘Thaddeus Yates.’ Pitch made his way to Silas’s side. The ankou was clearly distracted. ‘We thank you for allowing us to visit with Edward.’ He poured on the charm but did not risk using any enchantment with the kitsune there.

‘No trouble at all,’ Dr Severs said. ‘Mr Weatherby said you are friends of the lieutenant?’

Gods, had they not had this conversation a dozen times? ‘We are, and quite anxious to see him, if you don’t mind?’

Dr Severs rocked onto his heels. ‘I’m sure you are, sure you are.’ He peered up at Silas. ‘Quite a large man, aren’t you, sir?’

He was not so small himself.

‘Hmm?’ Silas was busy peering down the corridor. ‘Oh yes, I am.’

‘How did you say you knew Mr Charters? You see, I must be thorough about whom I bring to see him. I wouldn’t want to upset him any further.’

Silas paid attention to that, perhaps sensing at last the strange air down here. ‘We would not want that either.’ He glanced at Pitch. ‘Mr Yates knows him far better than I, I’ll admit. I am here to support him, as these types of visits can be quite distressing.’

‘Oh, very distressing indeed.’ Dr Severs nodded, but he did so just a tad too slowly.

Pitch felt the walls pull in tighter around them. ‘Do you know, I do not feel at all well…I think it’s the paraffin.’ He grabbed at Silas’s sleeve. ‘Would you mind terribly if we went back out into the fresh air? It’s very stuffy down here.’

‘That would be a shame, you are so close.’ Mr Weatherby tsked.

‘Only a few doors down.’ Dr Severs gestured to the corridor where the doors had much larger viewing panels, more like windows so the occupants could be clearly observed. ‘If you can bear it a moment longer down here, Mr Yates, I’d be forever grateful if you could come and say hello. Perhaps seeing you shall cheer him?’

Pitch nearly laughed out loud. He doubted very much his arrival would cheer Edward.

‘He is just along the way. He was crying himself hoarse. I came to give him some more sedatives, to help him relax, but I’d be quite interested in seeing how he reacts to someone he is…close with, as you claim yourself to be.’

‘Why would I claim such a thing if it were not true?’ Pitch watched Dr Severs very carefully.

‘Of course we will see him,’ Silas said but Dr Severs blocked the way. ‘Take us to him now, if you would, please.’

Dr Severs’s face was rather blank and difficult to read. More tiny shrills of alarm went off inside Pitch’s head. But he had to exercise restraint. If he struck out now, there would be a mess to clean up and far too much attention drawn for the Morrigan to notice.

If they had not already.

The doctor stepped to one side, gesturing for them to go ahead, glancing over Pitch’s shoulder as he did so. Turning about, Pitch swore under his breath. Mr Weatherby was nowhere in sight.

Gods, they had made a terrible mistake.