Rebellion

wreckage, “Adriel’s going to be pissed off about a lot of things. The van will be the least of his worries.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN Medea

“THERE IT IS,” said Mallory, pointing at something ahead of them. All Alice could see was a bunch of trees.

“That’s No Man’s Land?” she asked. The sun was setting already; they had spent most of the day walking. No wonder her feet were sore. The light seemed to... shimmer. They had reached the sea at the last moment before the sun sank into the water ahead of her, staining the sky a deep pink, fading to orange, then to a shade of blue she didn’t think she had ever seen. She turned away to see Mallory standing with his wings outstretched, the light turning his feathers all the colours of the sunset.

“Not bad, is it?” he asked.

“Not bad,” she said.

“You do know you’re looking the wrong way, right?” He arched an eyebrow at her, and seeing her frown, he placed a hand on each of her shoulders, turning her almost ninety degrees.

Straight at Mont Saint-Michel.

The island rose steeply out of the sea and up from its causeway; its lower slopes were surrounded by tall stone walls. The windows were tiny pinpricks of light, reflected in the water. And soaring over the walls, dwarfing them, was the cathedral-like structure of Michael’s fortress, its spotlit walls rising in a riot of ornate buttresses and turrets. In the evening light, the roofs looked like they were on fire. At the very highest point, gleaming in the last of the sunlight, was a golden statue, its wings outspread.

“Subtle.”

“Michael.”

“Michael.” Alice stared out over the water at the towers. No wonder the tourists loved it: it wasn’t exactly a discreet place to hide, but it really was Michael all over. Who else would top his castle with a bloody great statue of himself, she wondered... and then it dawned on her that there was only one other name that came to mind. Lucifer. It was the kind of thing she would expect from him. The idea made her uncomfortable, and without her really meaning to, her fingers found their way to the sigil on her arm. Michael’s sigil.

He had warned her, hadn’t he? He was an Archangel, the head of her choir. The head of all the angelic choirs. He could see inside her head if he wanted. Was he watching her now? Did he know they were there? And if they did, would he come for them? For her?

“That’s what Pollux is here for.” It was as though Mallory had read her mind.

“I thought Castor...”

“Castor’s going to be busy enough keeping Zadkiel off our trail. Pollux is a Descended, remember, and while he’s not a match for Michael if he really wants to find you, he’s enough for now.”

“But Castor’s an Earthbound. And Zadkiel’s an Archangel. So how does that work?”

“They have... how do I put this? History? I’d say Castor knows how Zadkiel’s mind works. And that’s good enough for me.”

“This. All this. It’s ridiculous.”

“I know.”

“I don’t even understand why we’re here. Not really.”

“Oh, you do. It’s wearing sunglasses and standing about five feet behind you.” Mallory jerked his thumb back over his shoulder towards Vin. “This business with Florence has hit him harder than he’s letting on. Jester, too. Jester particularly.”

“And here we are.”

“Here we are.” He clapped his hands together. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“Pub. Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

THE PUB WAS tiny, and it didn’t look promising from the outside – but its sign was encouraging. There was no picture; only curling, swirling script, reading ‘The Angel & Pistol.’ Alice raised an eyebrow at Mallory. “I thought you said you’d never even met one of Michael’s choir. How come I get the feeling you’ve been here before?”

“I hadn’t. And I haven’t.”

“You want to explain that, then?” She pointed up at the sign.

“Just because I don’t know this place doesn’t mean they don’t know me,” he said, pushing his way through the door.

It was like walking into a tomb. Everything was completely still on the other side, and a thick silence filled the air. Mallory’s hand immediately moved inside his jacket, pulling out one of his guns. The sound of the safety clicking off was altogether too loud.

“Vin? By the door,” he hissed, and Vin nodded, dropping back to the entrance.

“Where is everyone?” whispered Alice. Neither Mallory nor Vin answered. Instead, Vin half-opened the door and peered back into the street to where they’d left Castor, Pollux and the others. “They’re still by the road back there. No problems,” he said. Mallory leaned over the bar in the far corner of the room and looked at the rickety door that led further into the building. “Stay here,” he whispered at Alice, and without another word he slid over the little counter, dropping out of sight.

“Alice? Alice!” It was Vin hissing at her. “Get out the way, yeah?”

“Oh. Good point.” Alice scurried across to the wall, where she stood and waited for... anything. Vin had his foot wedged in the door, keeping it open, and was looking back at the van. “Something’s not right,” he said quietly, his nose wrinkling. “Can you feel it?”

“Feel what, exactly?”

“Not sure. Just something. Something... off.” He shivered. “You’re really telling me you can’t feel it?”

“I don’t know.” There was something in the air. A heaviness. She had just thought it was the silence, but it was more than that. There was an oppressiveness that hung over the whole place... something Alice realised she had begun to feel as soon as they got into town, but which she’d dismissed as a side-effect of all the walking. But it was more than that, and she had felt it before.

“Vin? I think we need to go.”

“Go where?”

“Anywhere.”

“You can feel it...”

“Yeah. And I remember where I’ve felt it before. Right before the riot.”

“Like a storm coming in. It’s them.”

“The Fallen? Is this a trap?”

“I don’t know.” He slid his foot out from the door and let it close, peering towards the back of the room. “We need to get Mallory.”

“I don’t know where he went...”

“Bloody typical. Stay here, alright? I’ll be right...”

“No you don’t. Either you stay with me or we’re both going.”

“What?”

“I’m not being left here like some useless... girl.” She fumbled for the right word, flapping her hands as she said it. Vin pulled a face.

“You’re weird.”

“Fine. Are we going?”

He jerked his head sideways, then darted across the room and slid across the bar like Mallory had. Alice