Rebellion

being dragged from the pew by a furious Mallory. Half dropping her, half throwing her to the floor, he launched himself back into the pew, landing on Xaphan with a roar. The knife skidded across the floor, stopping at Alice’s feet, and seeing Florence’s eyes searching for it, she snatched it up. Tiny sparks danced along the blade.

Vin was now hauling Mallory off Xaphan, trying to avoid getting hit in the face by the angel’s frantic wings. “A little help?” he shouted through a mouthful of feathers. Castor waded in and punched Xaphan once in the face. The Fallen crumpled sideways, smacking his head into the back of the pew, while Castor shook his fist, wincing. As one, Vin, Mallory and Castor turned to Florence; lying on the floor. They didn’t get a chance to move before Pollux had stepped between them, hand held out in warning.

“No,” was all he said. The others just stared at him, Mallory’s chest heaving.

“No?” he asked, his voice controlled, but angry.

“No.” Pollux repeated. “Michael knows Alice is here. And he’s not pleased. We need them.”

“How can he possibly know she’s here? I thought that was the whole point of bringing...”

“Not us. Someone else.” He looked thoughtful.

Castor groaned. “He’s right. Someone saw her. I can feel it.”

Alice was aware of four pairs of eyes settling on her. “What?”

“Alice,” Mallory’s voice was almost weary now. “Do you have something you want to tell me?”

“I didn’t... I wasn’t...” She gave up. There was no point in arguing. “There was someone. An angel. In the town.”

“Oh, fantastic. And you didn’t bother to mention this?” He held his hand out for the knife and she passed it to him, watching as he snapped the blade in two and tossed the pieces aside.

“I got a little distracted. You know, watching a complete stranger drown herself? And not being allowed to help her?”

“We were helping her, Alice.”

“Could we,” Vin said, “maybe talk about this later? Talk being the operative word?”

“I’m not the problem here,” Mallory snapped.

Castor had had enough. He grabbed Xaphan by the scruff of his neck and dragged him, unconscious, as far away from the rest of them as he could within the limits of the chapel. He dumped him unceremoniously in the corner behind the altar. Brushing his hands off, he looked first at Mallory, then at Alice, and finally at Vin. “Tell me something. I don’t mean to pry, and it’s none of my business, but do you lot usually fight this much?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mallory snapped back. Castor held up his hands as though Mallory had just proved his point.

“It’s just that... I do know you, Mallory. And this doesn’t strike me as being particularly in character. Has it occurred to you that having him hanging around might be...”

“A bit of a downer?” Alice chipped in. Castor pulled a face.

“Not the most elegant way of putting it, but that’ll do, yes.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Earlier. Ever since they showed up, things haven’t been right. And the only time I felt better...”

“...Was in the town. Not that that lasted long.” Mallory finished her sentence. “Alright, Castor. You might have a point. Maybe.” He rubbed his face. “We’ve just got to hang on until we can hand them over to Michael. Speaking of whom...” He raised an eyebrow at Pollux, who shrugged.

“It was Zadkiel watching you. I’m sure of it.”

“Which would make sense. From what we can gather, he’s been the one at work in the town.”

“Yes. And he saw you and followed.”

“Well that’s just marvellous, isn’t it? Marvellous. So Michael’s expecting us, then?”

“Most certainly.”

“Great. As if I wasn’t already looking forward to tomorrow enough.” He stared at the ceiling for a moment, then shook his head. “Fine. Alice: I’m sorry. Are we good?”

“We’re good.”

“Good. And next time, tell me if we’re being stalked by an Archangel, would you?” He scowled at Florence. “I don’t want to see her or hear her... not a sound. As far as I’m concerned, she’s a bargaining chip and nothing more. I have absolutely no further interest in her. Not making that mistake again. Get her out of my sight.” He waved at her dismissively, then turned his attention to Xaphan, who was still unconscious. “Make yourself useful, Vin,” he said, tossing him a piece of rope.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Vin said, cracking his knuckles. He crouched in front of Xaphan, picked up the rope, and wrapped it around Xaphan’s wrists. He rested his fingertips on the coils, and as Alice watched, the rope began to stiffen and grey, hardening as it turned to stone. Vin stood up and stepped back, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s see the smarmy little bastard weasel his way out of that one, shall we?”

“YOU SHOULD GET some sleep.” Mallory slid his back down the wall to the floor alongside her. They had done what they could with Xaphan, and with Florence, who had, at least, seemed to take Mallory’s warning seriously and was now as docile as she was ever likely to get. Calm had returned to the chapel.

“After all that? I’m not exactly nodding off here,” she said.

He shrugged. “It’s likely to be a hard day tomorrow. Everything’s a mess; I don’t like it.”

“So you keep saying.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true, does it?” He flicked some grit out from under his fingernail, took the cap off his hipflask and took a long, long swig. He held it out to Alice, but she waved it away.

“You know I don’t. Besides, I’m sure you were supposed to be giving up.”

“People keep saying that to me. Vin threw my last flask into the river in the middle of hell. It wasn’t exactly a choice on my part.”

“What about the whole being-Descended-again thing? I thought you only drank because you were Earthbound, and... stuff.” Alice tailed off, seeing the look on his face.

“You really do think the best of me, don’t you?”

“Not always.”

“Sure you do. One of us has to.” And he raised his flask and took another swig.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Strange Pilgrims

IT RAINED IN the night, and the sound of the raindrops on the roof was surprisingly soothing as Alice sat in the dark. Most of the candles had burned out hours before: only the little stand of votives near the door remained lit. They flickered from time to time, the flames rising and falling in their coloured glass holders. Mallory was asleep on the floor; one gun in his hand, one tucked into the back of his belt. She felt a pang of guilt about what had happened to his jacket. Mallory without his jacket was like... well, like Mallory without his jacket. Vin had propped himself in the end of a pew, leaning his head back against the wall, and was snoring loudly. Even while he was asleep, he still had his sunglasses on. He had taken the whole business with Jester, and with Florence, harder than any of them.

Alice thought about it for a moment, and decided she’d feel a lot calmer once they handed Xaphan and Florence over to Michael. Not all that long ago, she wouldn’t have considered handing even her worst enemy over to Michael. She still wasn’t sure she would. But Xaphan, and Florence with him?

No problem.

She closed her eyes and drifted off, just as the first pale green light started to creep through the vine- covered windows.