Page 95 of The Fulbourn: Pitch & Sickle

It took him beyond the touch of the one who had reached for him, moving him to where he may find respite, but too far from the man who had cried out for him.

Fight it, ankou.A new whisper struck, sure as an arrow, through the gloom of his tired soul. This one a gentle caress, where the other voice had been a striking blow.You must not fall. Find us. Save him.

Silas coughed, and out of him came a mouthful of gritty water. The water forced itself out of him, pouring from his nose, pushing itself through his teeth, though he fought to clench his jaw. Christ Almighty. He could not stand it. Drowning again.

Return from whence you came.The brutish voice returned.Child of mine.

And Silas tried to cry out his despair as understanding swamped him, but his throat burned with the all-too-familiar sear of cold, slamming waters.

He knew to the depths of his aching heart he would find no freedom in that voice.

The voice of the Blight.

The voice of the Watcher King.

The voice of his sire. Or, at the very least, a remnant of what Samyaza had once been.

Silas would find no home nor freedom if he listened too carefully. Silas hadseenwhat the Blight’s call did to a soul. And now hefeltit too.

He shook himself, tried to breathe despite his lungs telling him it was impossible. He was drowning. There was no air here, could be no air here.

But he was not sure. Not sure…bloody hell…what was he not sure of? It was so dark, so cold, so heavy down here, it was as though the thoughts were being squeezed from his mind by the pressure. He shook himself, trying to peel off the layers that grief and mourning had folded over him, weighing him down. He rubbed rough hands against his face. His face was soaking wet. With tears…no, with the waters of the loch…as he sailed ever downwards.

Bloody hell. Was he crying or drowning? He was impossibly sad. Desperately so. Did he cry because he was drowning? Or drowning because he didn’t wish to cry anymore?

This wasn’t right. Silas shook himself again.

The grief felt like a shrugged-on coat. One not made for him. One that did not fit quite right upon his shoulders. And he was not truly sad. In fact, if he pushed back against the pressure in his skull, he found something quite the opposite. He’d been happy. So much so.

With the man who’d begged him not to let go.

Awareness snuck in, burrowed its way via the cracks formed by the crushing weight of sorrow.

The Blight might be leaden, but Silas was strong.

He was a Horseman.

Child of mine,the Blight had whispered.

No.

Samyaza may have given him life, but he was not there when it was taken away. It was the goddess who had kept Silas. Izanami had given himanotherlife. Given him power. Made himlessof a monster.

‘I am death’s messenger, Watcher King.’ Silas reached into the darkness, defying the water that sought to choke him and throwing off the mournfulness that clung to his pores. He sought something solid to cling to. ‘You lost this child long ago. I am not yours to take.’

Well fought, brave one.The gentle whisper returned, brushed his cheek, and wiped away his tears. Lost souls.Find us. Fight, Sickle.

Sickle.

The name punched at him, drove through the darkness and clutched at his stricken heart. That is what the beautiful man called him. The precious soul he’d left behind with a monster closing in.

Silas arched his back and roared, ‘Enough!’

A rumble moved the air around him. And his hands struck solid,realstone. The darkness peeled away as he spat out the last of the waters and shook off the illusion of being sunk deep. He found his feet. The strike of them upon hard ground was brutal, sudden, and utterly sublime. He choked back a sudden desire to laugh wildly. The remains of the melancholy drifted like skin peeling after a day in the sun.

They had tried to use his past against him again, but they’d failed this time. The Blight was formidable, the Watcher King’s legacy bruising, and the Morrigan was clearly an enemy not to be underestimated, but none of them had bested him here.

These fiends were not insurmountable. And would be even less so with the daemon prince at his side.