The Herlequin - Pitch & Sickle Book Six: The Diabolus Chronicles (An MM Gaslamp Fantasy) by D K Girl

Author:D K Girl [Girl, D K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lucas Publishing
Published: 2023-04-26T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

NOT JUST snow but a biting wind. One that pushed itself up Pitch’s trouser legs and etched its freezing self into his skin.

‘Shit.’ He clung to the doorframe, not daring to test his ankle too much just yet. The pain was not quite so intense as before. That had to count for something, surely? And his headache had definitely improved. He sneezed, something he’d been doing too frequently for his liking, and discovered he was wrong about his headache.

‘Charlie, make sure the bays are untacked. Let them go free,’ Sybilla shouted from somewhere in the white blur of the outside world. ‘Silas, remove Hastings’s saddle. It will be easier for the two of you without it.’

The ankou called back, though his exact words were stolen by the wind and another of the ceaseless murmurs of thunder.

Pitch shrugged on his greatcoat with inelegant aplomb in the confined space, fighting down the ever-ready panic that choked him. If they forced him to fly, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t just crumble altogether. He felt sewn together with weak threads.

‘All is well, all is well,’ he muttered like a loon while he dressed. ‘Keep your wits, keep your wits.’

Edward was huddled in the corner of the seat, layered up with so many blankets that the poor sod looked as though he were part of some strange burial rite. As Pitch fumbled with his buttons, the lieutenant stirred. His eyes opened.

Pitch could not help shrinking away, pressing himself back where there was no room to do so.

‘Tobias. It’s me.’ Grey eyes soft, Edward regarded him.

There was space to breathe again. ‘Well, that’s…how are you?’

‘Not so terrible as I might appear.’

Was the fool man trying to smile? Amidst all this mayhem?

‘Edward, we are to separate. Sybilla will take care of you and–’

‘I know. I understand. Tobias, we are so close.’

‘To the Sanctuary?’

‘To everything.’

Pitch was in no mood for cryptic speech. ‘Fine. Great, wonderful. I have to go.’

He braced his hands on either side of the doorway, steeling himself for the effort it would take to step down. Snow drifted in, settling on the seat he’d just vacated, and on the blankets covering Edward. Outside voices were muffled by the density of the fall.

‘He’s trying to protect you, you know.’ Edward spoke quietly but managed to be heard above the weather. ‘From the weight you carry. I know you feel made small, but he has done this for your own good –’

Pitch tensed, barely feeling the twinge at his ankle as he shifted his weight. ‘Edward, you are a decent man who has been dealt a terrible hand.’ He paused. ‘I’ll not forgive myself or the angel for that. I see now I was like you once…so enraptured, so desirous of his attention that we fail to realise that those soaring above us rarely look down. And when they do, it is not for our own good, or our protection, or anything of us at all. It is to serve their purpose. To meet their desires. To right their mistakes and create new ones.

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