He lifted his gaze to Ben’s.
Ben was waiting for the look, staring back at him. Ben swallowed then clenched his jaw. It was something of a test for them. Ben had said:I’m on his side, whatever. But now that meant not beingbyhis side when he was needed—wanted. It meant separating, doing the right thing when the right thing was desperately unwanted.
But Harry was family now.
Ben nodded to the unspoken. Then he closed his eyes briefly and said something Aleksey had not been expecting at all. ‘I know where Billy is.’ Holding Harry carefully propped against one arm, he rummaged in his pocket and brought out a torn piece of paper.
Molly’s picture.
It was crumpled and ragged and seemed very out of place in this setting. Ben handed it over and pointed. ‘I couldn’t work out what it was.’
Beside the very phallic lighthouse, there was another scribbled drawing done in wax crayons. It was a stick figure; that much was clear. It was waving. The confusing part was it appeared to be next to a big box, a square, which cried out for four windows and a roof as in any traditional rendition of a house. The depiction was curious by these very omissions. Slowly, Aleksey raised his eyes to the roof. Ben took back the picture. ‘He’s living in the old water tank. Squeezy said it looked like a lighthouse, remember? I think Billy thinks so too.’
Aleksey rose to his feet.
The sword was thrumming in his hand.
As if he, too, could hear its call, Harry laid his good hand on Aleksey’s shin and tugged his trousers gently. Aleksey crouched back down to hear a whispered but determined, ‘I do not think this is the worst trial you have ever faced, sir, but somehow I feel it touches you the most. Once in every man’s lifetime he gets to learn the true meaning of storms. This is your time. You can outrun them. You can stand and battle them and win. You can fight them with everything you’ve got but still lose and then flounder and be lost within the maelstrom. In the end, it does not matter which outcome befalls you; all that matters is you stay true to yourself and accept the consequences. I did not. I took a fourth option and ran away. I was a coward, and I have sailed bitter oceans since that betrayal of everything I held dear. You truly have something to lose now: you have yourself—all you have become. Do not exact vengeance on this man for my sake, or even for the little chap’s here. We don’t want it. Whatever you have to do tonight, be true to yourself.’ He was shaking badly by the time he finished speaking, his jaw trembling as he forced the last words out.
By the time they got him wrapped in Ben’s coat and in Ben’s arms, he was unconscious once more.
They did not want to part.
If this was his storm, then Ben was his anchor—always had been, always would be.
There was nothing to say. They didn’t need words—never had, never would.
But Aleksey fancied he could see himself reflected in Ben’s green eyes, which would have been something of a miracle if he had, for it was dark and he could barely even see the face he loved. But he liked the idea of being there, and of Ben also being reflected in his.
Ben blinked, the moment was lost, and he walked his two charges into the night and the darkness swallowed him up.
Aleksey turned to regard the steps. He knew he was being observed—had felt Simon Raiden’s eyes upon them as they’d knelt with the old man. It was why Harry had been left there alive. It was standard military practise: don’t kill if you can maim. A wounded soldier split the main effort, demoralised and confounded it. If Raiden had killed Harry, Ben would now be standing by his side.
He felt entirely demoralised as he surveyed the asylum and more than a little confounded as he went down the steps and through past the boilers to rise into the long main corridor. The asylum was even more unappealing and unwelcoming in the dark than it had been during daylight.
He had no plan.
He was merely a player in this much bigger drama.
He had come to rescue Harry and, if he could, save Billy’s life.
He had probably failed at the first and now doubted his ability to do the second. It didn’t help that as soon as he’d emerged into the dark hallway, he’d been assailed by the pounding beat of discordant music once more.
But he knew it for what it was now: an attempt to drive Billy out of hiding. Somehow this hunter knew of Billy’s love for melodic music and was using it against him. Perhaps, as with the little dog, he just loved tormenting things smaller and weaker than himself. Aleksey grinned suddenly. He was going to teach this man the meaning of the expressionpick on someone your own size.
The interior of the building was beyond dark; it seemed more like being underground as he stood debating which way to go. The windows, being barred, were too grimy to let in a chink of moonlight, even if there had been one.
The music grew louder as he progressed further into the belly of the beast. Aleksey could not say whether he knew where he was or not. He didn’t recognise the rooms he passed or the corridors he walked along, but he realised with something like relief that the asylum had lost much of its horror for him now. It was just an old building which had absorbed misery and abandonment. If it had a spirit, as he liked to tell himself Guillemot did, then this home had a sobbing child at its core, one bereft of love. This was possibly why his first visit had affected him so. He knew a little about abandonment and lack of love.
Perhaps it was just that he felt Jenna’s spirit with him now.
He found the stairs he was seeking and began to ascend.
***
Chapter Forty-four
Simon Raiden was waiting for him at the top.
