Page 63 of The Herlequin: Pitch & Sickle 6

Another nod. A long silence.

‘Perhaps, next time too,’ Silas continued, though more tentatively, ‘you will wait for me, so I might come with you when you run away?’

‘I acted the fool…again. It was a stupid thing to do. Just say it.’

‘You were frightened.’

There was heavy but empty air, just the crack of undergrowth from the deer and Silas himself as they moved steadily through the woods. As a roll of thunder plagued a distant sky, Pitch spoke.

‘I am not healing quickly, Silas. And I’m not sure I could even fend off the damned fae in the Wild Hunt with the state I’m in.’

‘You won’t need to fend them off. I am here, and Sybilla and Matilda.’ Silas glanced up but could see little of the sky. ‘Hastings too. We shall be at the Sanctuary before this Herlequin chap even learns we were passing by.’

‘Do you have any idea how irritating you are when you talk like that?’

‘Yes, actually. You make it abundantly clear.’ Silas buried a kiss in Pitch’s putrid waves, hiding his consternation behind the gesture. The sooner they were on their way, the better. Silas was keen to put all aspects of this interlude behind them.

At their quickened pace, the journey was not long, and the deer held back as the trees thinned around the edges of the clearing. All but one of the will-o’-the-wisps kept their places around the stag’s cage of antlers. The delicate rainbow colourings marked out the single wisp that hovered in the space between the animals and Silas. Snippets of sound came from the tiny thing, like the twittering of a slightly demented bird.

‘Thank you all, so much.’ Silas leaned into a shallow bow as he bade the creatures farewell, ignoring the prince, who clucked his tongue. ‘Go now, and keep yourselves safe.’

He stepped into the clearing, to find it devoid of life. The fire had been damped and the ashes kicked and scattered so they blended back into the ground. At a glance it would be hard to say if anyone had been there at all.

There were no voices evident, nothing of Sybilla and Charlie in conversation, nor the rattle of harnesses to announce the horses.

Pitch raised his head. ‘Are we lost?’

Silas took a moment before he answered. He thought perhaps they were exactly that. Or worse…the deer had not been friends after all. Which made no sense. The creatures had clearly been caring for Pitch. The daemon was annoyed by the gnome but had hardly declared him an enemy. Was this the wrong clearing, then? Perhaps the deer were poor navigators?

‘Silas? Where are they?’

He’d waited far too long to reply, and now the prince shifted about, trying to get out of Silas’s hold. ‘Pitch, wait.’

‘They’ve left us?’

‘No, of course not.’ The daemon was so ready to be abandoned. It was infuriating. ‘Sybilla would do no such thing.’

‘The Valkyrie will do what she wants, or what she’s told.’

‘Why on Earth would she be told to leave us?’

‘There’s a mad Seraphim in her carriage. Who knows?’

‘Has that hit to the head concussed you? She would not leave us–’

‘Of course I wouldn’t leave you here, but nor could I leave the others to search for you. You’ve taken your sweet bloody time.’ Sybilla stepped out from the shadows on the far side of the clearing, and Silas only just caught himself from gasping with relief. ‘Gods, I thought you might be fucking in the woods somewhere, but it looks as though you’ve had a boxing match instead.’

‘Charlie and Edward?’ Silas asked before Pitch could get out an angry word. ‘Where are–’

‘They are safe in the carriage.’ She strode over, peering hard at Pitch’s leg. ‘What the blazes has he done to himself?’ She touched at the tatters of his trouser leg.

‘He stood on a hunter’s trap, after freeing a doe.’ Silas hesitated. ‘The hunter wasn’t much pleased.’

Sybilla’s gaze darted to him. ‘I thought I heard a shot beneath a crack of thunder but dismissed it.’ She tried to lift Pitch’s coat folds, which displeased him greatly.

‘What the blazes are you doing?’

‘Are you shot as well?’