Page 85 of The Herlequin: Pitch & Sickle 6

He sought to calm his disquiet. Last time he’d succumbed to such worries, the fool oaf had just been off having a godsforsaken swim.

Pitch had the vague sense of having woken earlier, of mumbling something to the ankou, who had been getting up…for what? To relieve himself. That was it. But he’d said he’d be back in a moment. How many moments was it now? Pitch could not decide if he’d been asleep a long while or just a minute, though he was groggy enough for the former. He rocked onto his knees, a wry grin forming at the loosened state of his trousers. What a pleasant evening. With all that mead and cock sucking, and daft talk of building a cottage in the woods, Silas speaking of a life lived as though they were joined in strange matrimony. Lucky the alcove in the dewberry bush was so compact, for at one point he thought Silas about to take the knee and propose. Daft bastard. But for a luxurious moment, Pitch had become a daft bastard too, imagining safe peace at the ankou’s side.

Now though, the faint light of day arrived, bringing with it a slight headache and need for water. Pitch was almost done adjusting the corset, which had slipped on account of being half undone, smoothing his hand over the boning and trying to keep his thoughts away from the events that had transpired after he received it. He buttoned his shirt next, thinking how much warmer he’d be with a coat, when muted cries came from the clearing. Will Scarlet whipped its tiny glass-blown figure about, its squeaks taking on a note of alarm he did not like.

‘What is it?’

The will-o’-the-wisp dashed through a thin space in the brambles, vanishing at once and leaving no reply.

‘Damn it. I asked you a question.’ Pitch waved his hands about, searching for the place where the brambles had opened to allow them entrance. ‘Open up, you fucking…’ He paused, took a breath. ‘Please…allow me to leave.’

At once the branches shifted, snaking back. He crawled through the low archway that formed. ‘Thank you.’

On his hands and knees as he was, he saw the coats before anything else. The sight of the royal-blue Inverness made his unsteady stomach clench.

‘He went to take a piss, idiot,’ he chastised himself. ‘Didn’t need to get dressed up for it.’

But still, it was Silas’s coat he reached for and not his own herringbone as he got to his feet. Pitch tested his ankle carefully before deciding it could take his weight this morning. At long, fucking last. He cradled the Inverness and took in the sight that greeted him. Gathered in front of the Major Oak were gnomes, peri, and brownies, and upon the tree itself, peeking kodami. All faces he recognised from last night but their expressions far less jovial. The sombre air made the hairs stand on his arms.

Robin was on their knees, their back to Pitch, petals fluttering in a circular motion as though a mini whirlwind focused on the hamadryad alone. The attention of every living creature in the clearing was set upon something Robin held.

‘What’s going on?’ Pitch demanded. ‘What is this?’

The burr was low on his trunk, only a foot off the ground. ‘The asrai bring grave news, I’m afraid. Now I’ll ask that you keep your calm–’

‘Where is Silas?’ Pitch’s bellow had all the forestkind jumping. Will Scarlet hid itself in Robin’s hair. One of the younger brownies burst into tears. ‘Tell me where he is, now, or I swear to the gods I shall tear this forest apart.’

Barefoot but with neither time nor patience to stop and put on his boots, he stormed towards the hamadryad– the only one not to startle at his bellow– ignoring the stiffness in his hip. Flecks of dried-out soil fell from the compress at his ankle, but he barely paid it any mind, too intent on what the dryad held. For a pulse-stopping moment, he thought it might be the bandalore. It was round certainly, but it quickly became clear it was not the ankou’s scythe. It was an orb of water, not unlike the crystal balls the Order entertained the purebreds with at seances. Only this one was not solid and stationary but fluid and swirling with hints of a current. An asrai. And not a healthy one at that. Threads of brown marred the clarity of their water.

‘This is what has you all looking as though the sky has caved in, then?’ Pitch snapped, aware he was being less than charitable but caring little. ‘A sick asrai? That’s it?’

There was some muttering at his comment, which only infuriated him further. The tension stuck to him like prickles to a trouser leg. Far more was wrong than this simple creature being ill.

‘The asrai brought us word, Pitch, a warning that has cost them dearly.’ Robin looked up, and Pitch despised them for the mixture of pity and grave concern that carved their features. ‘The Wild Hunt has entered the forest, and he is found.’

‘Who is found?’ It was the most foolish question he’d asked in four hundred years.

‘Your ankou.’

The clearing rocked on its axis, and if not for the nudge at his shoulder by Will Scarlet, there was a chance Pitch might have tilted along with it.

‘Silas?’ The second most foolish question he’d asked. But he could not fathom this nightmarish exchange. For that was what it had to be– a nightmare.

‘Yes. The Hunt closes in on him. He wandered too far out into the forest, beyond where it was safe. A harpy led him astray.’

‘A harpy? A fucking harpy?’ Pitch was squeezing the words out, a mix of rage and terror rendering him nearly speechless.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasnothappening. He’d gone to sleep in Silas’s arms not a few hours ago. Fuck, he could still taste the ankou.

‘We must gird the heart of the forest. We will keep you safe here for as long as we can, as he wished.’ Robin handed the asrai to a gnome with a beard like tufts of mushrooms. ‘Do what you can, but we cannot return them to their source now. No one must leave the clearing. Keep them comfortable as you can.’

‘As he wished?’ Pitch stared down at the flower-petal-shedding fae, certain he must be in a dream state. An obscure laugh erupted from him. ‘You are making it sound as though you work in his memory, that he is dead.’ His voice rose so high that even Will Scarlet cringed.

Robin moved to his side. ‘Please Pitch…’ The hamadryad did not touch him; they were that smart at least. ‘He placed vital importance on your safety. You must be guarded well, and the only place to do that is here, in the heart of the forest where the Major and I are strongest.’

‘Mysafety?’ Pitch blustered. ‘I don’t give a shit about–’