Page 10 of The Herlequin: Pitch & Sickle 6

Edward’s plight was not a pleasant one. He’d been taken over and used without hint of consent. But, gods damn it, the same had been done to Pitch. He had very little pity to spare here.

‘How could I speak of such things? Tell you that your freedom had been stolen by such a creature. Your body used in an act of supreme selfishness.’ Pitch swallowed. ‘I know how that feels. You are a decent man and did not deserve such cruelty, even if you had believed me, which is unlikely. You had never recalled the possessions in the past…I thought it best left that way.’

Edward’s lips parted, but there was a long delay before he spoke, and still he did not open his eyes. ‘Were we ever true friends…lovers? I liked William Black very much. But did he ever truly like me?’

That was the man’s question at a time like this?

‘Yes. I liked you…Ilikeyou, Charters.’ Pitch’s fingernails dug into the wood. ‘We were good friends, first, before that bastard complicated it all. We drank and gambled and fucked, and your company was a pleasure.’ The mindless debauchery, a world away from the Hellfield and the drama of Arcadia, was what Pitch had craved. Humankind adored frivolity and trivial, pretty things, as much as Pitch craved them. ‘I did not know…I did not know the angel would choose you. He does not ask for permission from anyone, least of all me, and he certainly didn’t care if I disapproved. But still, I fucked up, Edward. When I saw that it was not going to be once or twice…I should have done more than just believe him when he said you would not be harmed by his possession.’

He stopped, just shy of saying sorry, the word snagging at the base of his throat. A tear rolled from the corner of Edward’s closed eye, slinking like a crystal slug down his temple.

Shit. Sending Charlie away had been a mistake. Pitch was readying to make a dash for the door and retrieve the vagabond when Edward spoke.

‘I’ve not been harmed. I’ve been blessed, to know you both.’ They were not the words Pitch had expected. ‘I know you tried at Mordiford to distance yourself for my own good. But you need not feel any guilt. The Holy One is so brilliant, so sublime…you both are. I’m walking where no mere human has a right to walk…amongst the gods, the creatures of the heavens. I am a vessel for the divine. How can I grieve what I might have lost when I am gifted with such treasures as you and he?’

Pitch sighed. The man was in a rapture, surely. But was that such a terrible thing, considering his plight? If Seraphiel had him blinded by reverence, then it was the first mark of kindness the angel had shown.

‘Are you in any pain? Do you need more tincture or something?’ Pitch touched at some of the bottles, like he actually had a clue which one to use.

‘Charlie has told you what I need, Vassago.’

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘I understand it is your true name.’ Edward swallowed and it seemed to pain him. ‘A daemon prince of Arcadia. The one who shall save this world from a great evil.’

Pitch slumped against the chair. ‘He told you all of that, did he? A pity half of it is utter bullshit.’

Edward opened his eyes and Pitch tensed. But it was not Seraphiel’s citrine, drilling gaze there, only Edward’s calm grey. Remarkably clear.

‘I need to take your hand, Tobias.’

‘What bloody for?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Well, theHoly Onehas never been big on explanations. Ask him again.’

Edward grunted, eyelids heavy. ‘I told you, it is not like that…not exactly…we don’t converse…there are visions. I see what it is he wishes me to do. When I touched you in that horrid asylum, it was because I had seen that it must be done. That it was right, even if I didn’t truly understand the wheres and whys. It is a wonder the angel has chosen me as his vessel–’

‘I pity you for it.’ For he knew what it meant to be at Seraphiel’s mercy.

Edward broke into a feeble smile. ‘I told you, I am humbled that he has chosen me.’

Sweet mercy, the angel had worked the poor man over. ‘Fuck, Edward, you are being deluded.’

‘I am as clearheaded as I’ve been since I started dreaming of a beauty beyond imagining. I have been made a part of something…’ Edward searched for the words. ‘Noble…righteous. He is glorious. And neither you nor he frighten me.’

‘Well we bloody well should, Edward. And whatever this is he’s doing to you…it will kill you.’ He should not have been so harsh, so blunt and brutal, but his anger was directed at the angel beneath Edward’s skin. Whatever form he might be in.

‘Then my death shall stand for something significant. This cause is far greater than me.Youare far greater, Your Highness.’

Pitch’s empty stomach churned. Edward was by nature a noble man. Decent and mindful of the greater good. Seraphiel…Seraphiel’s ghost…whatever this was…was taking advantage of the man’s shining attributes.

‘I am neither great nor high. Though I wish I was the fucking latter, let me tell you. Don’t ever address me that way again if you wish to keep your divinely anointed tongue.’

‘You are resplendent, even if you refuse to see it.’ The lieutenant pushed himself onto one elbow but did not look fit to stay there long. ‘He wishes to see how you fare.’

‘How I fare?’ Pitch spat. ‘I’m tired and sore, as we all are.’