‘What is going on, Ahari? We deserve an answer.’ Sybilla said tightly.
‘I’m terribly sorry, but matters have been taken out of our hands.’ The old man suddenly looked every inch his considerable age as his gaze found Silas. ‘Both you and the Order are to stand down. Arcadia has stepped in, and Reginald has been tasked with retrieving our friend from his misfortunes. You must remain here while he deals with the situation.’
‘The situation, Mr Ahari, has a name. Damn you people! Vassago is not athingto be dealt with. And how is it that Arcadia knows of this?’ Silas ran cold with his next thought. ‘Has Lucifer’s interference been discovered? Do they know Pitch not in the abaddon?’ He could not bring himself to ask if they wished him returned there.
‘I wasn’t told details, I’m afraid. His Majesty gave little away, and had no time for chit-chat.’ Mr Ahari retied his tweed belt for the third time. ‘Dreadful business, all this. Dreadful. But there’s nothing to be done, not now.’
‘Ahari, I’ll not say it again.’ Silas splayed his fingers against the wood. The ring dug into his skin. ‘Open these gates. At once.’
‘I cannot do that. Even if I knew how to break the seal placed on the Sanctuary, I cannot defy the King of Daemonkind.’ He had the decency to sound wretched. ‘Not fair by half. Not after all the boy has been through and done for us all. Forgive me, Silas.’
Bloody hell, if one more person asked Silas’s forgiveness, he would lose his marbles entirely. ‘Mr Ahari, for god’s sake, let me out. Let me follow. I should be there with him.’ All the way to Arcadia if that was what was coming next. But none of this made sense. With all the risks Lucifer had taken before now, why shift from the plan so entirely? ‘Open this gate, before I tear it down.’
Lalassu paced behind Silas, likely to wear a path in the cobbles. Mr Ahari seemed set to say something more. Silas waited, holding back the panic that was eating its way through him.
Mr Ahari lowered his eyes and turned away. ‘His Majesty has already departed, and I do not know which way he went. I’m so terribly sorry, my dear boy.’
He walked away. Stepping out onto the road, and slipping nimbly between a massive growler pulled by four brown shires and a smaller hansom with a fancy red trim. When the road cleared again, there was no sign of him.
‘Mr Ahari! Mr Ahari!’
A policeman strolled past the gates, baton swinging from his belt, hands behind his back, and he did not so much as glance Silas’s way, despite the voluminous shouts. Their prison was a silent one. Their plight utterly hidden.
This was insanity. Lucifer knew that all Silas wished to do was reach Pitch, save him. Why would the daemon not utilise him?
That was when icy certainty found him. Lucifermustbe intending to return Pitch to the abaddon. The king would know very well there was no chance in any hell, heaven or Earth, that Silas would sit quietly and allow that to happen.
He threw himself at the gate anew, great tremors running all the way into the brickwork surrounding the wood.
‘Don’t do this, Ahari,’ he bellowed, and lunged again. ‘Let me out. Now.’
Christ, all he was doing was bruising his shoulder. He slipped the ring from his finger, urging its reformation.
An axe, blade glistening with slick sharpness, and the handle of gnarled, curved wood finding its place against his palm. He raised his arms.
‘Silas, careful,’ Sybilla warned.
Silas brought down the axe with every ounce of strength his anger delivered.
The scythe struck.
And bounced off the wood, like a ball against a tennis racquet. It whipped out of his unready hand and flung across the courtyard.
‘Oh, shit.’
‘Fuck!’
Silas and Tyvain cried out as one.
The soothsayer charged at Benedict, crashing him out of the way, barely doing so before the scythe hurtled over them. ‘Mercer, feckin’ stop it.’
Which was exactly what he intended, were he able to catch the blasted thing. The scythe tore into the first stall in the stables, empty thankfully, colliding with the wood panelling at the back. Before Silas was halfway across the courtyard in pursuit, the scythe was returning, rebounding as quickly as it had shot away.
Headed for Sybilla in her chair.
‘Look out!’ Silas threw himself in front of her. ‘Stop, now,’ he roared.
The axe slammed to a stop in midair.
