Page 119 of The Herlequin: Pitch & Sickle 6
‘We cannot go back. I’m sorry so much has occurred in my absence, but I couldn’t return for you until I had Edward and Charlie somewhere safe. And I had no say over how far away that would take me.’ Without asking the question, Pitch knew who it was whodidhave that say. ‘But you had Hastings with you…so I thought…’ The angel’s fierceness wavered. ‘Tobias…their illusion magick is so strong…they deceived us. The Order has been chasing ghosts. And Hastings…’ It was the closest he’d ever known her to come to overwhelmed. ‘Those cursed fiends of the Morrigan have killed–’
‘I know. And I’m sorry.’ That word was so puny, little wonder he used it, and meant it, so rarely. ‘But you found your way through the deception. What of the others? Surely Lalassu sees her way clear as well? Does she go to Silas? He needs aid, the forest too.’ It hurt his throat to speak so forcefully, as though the soft skin had forgotten already what it was to be vocal. ‘If harm has come to the ankou–’
‘Then you shall honour him by setting yourself to the task at hand.’ Sybilla knew a thing or two about speaking forcefully, her mouth close to his ear, her words growing tendrils of ice in his heart. ‘Because you know as well as I, he will give his all to protect you. To protect what needs to be done. I know you are hurting, Tobias, in all ways, but your belligerence is not what I need, your focus is. I have us shielded, we should be hidden enough that they cannot follow. But I shall not make the mistake of assumption again. Iblis and his flock appear to have retreated, but I do not trust it in the slightest. We must make quick passage north. I’ll deliver you to where Edward waits–’
‘Which is fucking where? How far away from Silas are you taking us?’ It was already too far. The ankou might have kept the Wild Hunt from heeding Iblis’s summons, but who was to say the tables had not turned? Damn it, Pitch was at much at the mercy of this angel as he had been the others.
‘Edward is at the–’
‘No, stop,’ Pitch snapped. ‘Don’t tell me anything.’ He gripped the bandalore tighter before admitting a more painful truth. ‘Azazel watches through Iblis. I saw the Exarch in him myself.’ Sybilla let slip a suitably vulgar curse. ‘And…he forced from me the details…of what Blood Lake holds.’ Gods, how many times would his will be overridden and disregarded? ‘I was compelled with magick, and I could not hold my tongue.’
The Valkyrie’s silence was far worse than any of her words could hope to be.
‘For fuck’s sake, Sybilla, it’s not like they can waltz in and take the halo, is it? The lake is sealed three times over.’ One for each of the Seraphim who had imprisoned the Watcher King. Their whereabouts were known to none but those who had created them. He tried not to imagine how the death of one of those angels might tilt the house of cards. ‘And it’s not as though the Morrigan don’t suspect something of worth is there already. They are being called by the halo. And I did not put that fucking thing in the lake to begin with. It was not my mistake that gave it life, damn it.’ He shouldered enough of Seraphiel’s blame already. He’d not apologise for being so beaten down he had no fight left.
Scarlet tittered, its bantam voice raised. Sybilla nodded.
‘I know he is very brave, Will Scarlet. And yes, those angels were very bad, very unkind.’
Pitch replaced one irritation for another. ‘You understand the language of the wisp?’
‘It is simple enough. Scarlet is quite enamoured with you, Tobias.’ Sybilla resettled her arm around the small of his back. ‘That wound at your shoulder needs tending. Does it pain you if I hold you like–’
‘I’m not made of fucking glass.’
‘But nor are you made of iron. Not today.’
True enough. Fatigue dragged at him. The cut in his belly was not altogether happy with being pressed against the angel. ‘Mollycoddle me at your peril, Valkyrie. I am no weakling.’
Sybilla’s wings beat with the sound of grass moving in a breeze. ‘I could call you many, many things, but weak would never figure among them. The Seraphim was no fool. He saw what I and so many others fail to see at first. Your strength is astonishing. With all you have endured, all that has been taken from you, you persist. You defy. You survive.’
Normally, Pitch relished being fawned over and showered with flattery, the more sycophantic the better. But here, Sybilla’s words needled him with odd melancholy, and he sought escape.
‘Well, you can’t be blamed for finding me intensely attractive. I know you’ve wished to bed me from the moment we met.’
The corners of her lips definitely twitched. ‘I’ve no taste for pillars, most especially not yours.’
‘No accounting for taste.’
‘Just as well, for I dare say I’d be in a competition I could not win, were it otherwise.’ Her chuckle was faint, her words said lightly, no doubt intended to further lift the morose mood. But talk of Silas, even if his name was not mentioned outright, dropped Pitch straight back into darkness. Sybilla must have felt him tense, for she spoke quickly. ‘Tobias, he is a survivor like yourself. I’m sure we will all soon be back at the hall with Old Bess, rowdy with the drink and you and the ankou making us ill with your lingering looks and simpering smiles.’
His heart actually ached at that. Not just at the notion of being with Silas but of this being over. Of some semblance of a rowdy drunken party being possible. Of sharing company with those he might dare consider friends.
‘I could have him bend me over the billiards table instead, if you prefer a show?’ Pitch rubbed his fingers against the smooth steadiness of the bandalore, enjoying the Valkyrie’s clucked tongue of disgust.
‘And there you are, back upon my list of most repulsive, irritating people I know.’ Sybilla’s laughter bubbled, but the lightness was short-lived. Her body stiffened against him. ‘Oh gods, I knew this was too good to be true–’
Ahead, the entire sky was illuminated, a stage lit by a spotlight that pointed straight at them. Pitch had no chance to turn his head before Sybilla moved them upright and swept her wings before her, like a villain in a pantomime twirling their cape in a dramatic flourish to cover their escape.
But this was no act of drama, rather a move of sheer desperation. With her wings shielding him, Sybilla turned about, embracing him so tightly he couldn’t breathe. ‘Hold on, Tobias.’
The Valkyrie was struck, and the blow reverberated through his own body. A brutal hit that forced a scream from Sybilla’s widened mouth. The angel’s wings burst into flame, a silent white blaze that ate into the onyx as she swept them wide again to drag them clear of the daemon she carried.
‘Sybilla!’
The angel fell.
‘Sybilla!’ Pitch screamed again, trying to wriggle out of her hold, which was still inordinately tight despite the fact that the angel herself was being eaten alive by the halo’s strike.