Rebellion

ducked as one of the Fallen threw... something at him. It passed by too quickly to see what it was, and Al didn’t really care. It had almost hit him, and he lunged forward with a flaming sword; smiling in satisfaction as his assailant took the blade in the face and dropped where he stood.

He was still smiling when the knife slipped into his back, finding its way between the links of the chainmail and down into the root of his wings. Stars bloomed in his eyes and the ground beneath him softened as the blade slid home. His sword dropped from his hand.

He twisted as he fell. He hit the ground, seeing Xaphan casually shaking off his restraints, smiling at him. As the remains of the guard, too, fell around him, Xaphan stepped over a heap that had once been an angel and dropped into a crouch, running his finger down A’albiel’s cheek. “Wrong place, wrong time,” he whispered. “Everywhere and anywhere. The world is ours.” He smiled again, and wiped the blood from his knife on A’albiel’s shoulder, before slipping the blade back into his pocket and holding his hand out to Florence. She took his hand, and they turned their backs on A’albiel, the three remaining Fallen following them, vanishing into the drifting smoke.

A’albiel rolled onto his back, feeling the chill spreading out from beneath his wings. His vision clouded, and he turned his eyes to the perfectly empty blue sky.

And inside the abbey, Phillip ran.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Fire with Fire

THE PIECE OF paper Michael had been holding slipped from his fingers and dropped to the floor. He strode towards the window, frowning. “Smoke,” he said, looking out over the roofs.

Alice looked out of the nearest window. He was right. A cloud of smoke hung over the island below them; it was thick and black, greasy. She had seen it before.

“Mallory...”

“I see it. Michael?”

“Hmm.” Michael looked thoughtful. “Not the approach I would have taken, but still...”

“Michael!”

“What?” Michael’s head snapped around to face Mallory.

“What do you want us to do?”

“To do?” Michael looked puzzled, his eyes moving from Mallory to the window and back again. “We fight, of course.”

“With what?” Mallory said pointedly. “I hate to point this out, but your Quartermaster relieved me of my guns.”

Michael raised a finger and cocked his head. Someone was coming up the stairs.

The door was thrown open as Zadkiel burst into the room. He was carrying a small roll of cloth, which he threw to Mallory. “Brother Phillip sends his regards, and his apologies. Almost got himself killed getting here.”

Mallory caught it and unwrapped his guns, dropping the cloth and checking the magazines on both Colts before stuffing them into his pockets. “He’s got good timing,” he muttered as Zadkiel dropped a green holdall on the floor with a brusque, “Ammo.” The Archangel then raced across the room, and whispered something into his commander’s ear. Michael’s frown deepened.

“Escaped? How did they manage that?”

“I don’t know.” Zadkiel raised his voice a little, enough for Alice to hear, at least. She pointed out of the window.

“Uhh... that tour bus. Down there. On the causeway. I don’t suppose that has anything to do with what you’re all panicking about, does it?”

“Tour bus?” Michael’s frown finally tipped over into a scowl. “What?”

“There. In the car park. There’s a bus. It wasn’t there earlier...”

“They came on a coach?” Michael’s voice was a mixture of bemusement and contempt, while Zadkiel shook his head.

“You’re not serious?”

“Look.” Alice pointed again. There it was, sitting in the car park at the end of the causeway. A bright red coach, the kind that took tourists on week-long holidays. Exactly the kind of coach Alice would have expected to see here. Which is why, apparently, no-one had noticed it. Until now.

“The sentries?” Michael snapped at Zadkiel.

“Gone.”

“Gone where?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you.” He ran a hand back through his hair, pacing. “They’ve yet to breach the priory itself. Phillip made it in through the gate, but they were right behind him. I say we concentrate on the most vulnerable points. Move to defend the scriptorium and the south corridor. If they get through there, we’re in trouble.”

“Agreed.” Michael was still staring out of the window. “Take the corridor. I’ll take the scriptorium.”

Zadkiel thought for a moment, then glanced at Mallory. “You’re with me. Think you can handle it?”

“Can I handle it...” Mallory snorted. Beside the door, Vin was already rolling his shoulders and flexing his fingers. Alice knew what that meant.

“What about me?” she asked. No-one answered.

The voice which finally came from the corner of the room was chilly. It was Gabriel. “And the prisoners?” he asked, almost offhand.

“Gone too.” Zadkiel answered.

“Time to find out what Lucifer’s up to,” said Michael, fire flaring up around him. “Kill them all.” And with that, he vanished.

Only after he had gone did Alice notice that Gabriel had disappeared with him. Now, it was her, Mallory, Vin and Zadkiel. They seemed to know what they were doing and had already started towards the door.

“What about me?” she asked again. All three of them stopped and stared at her.

“You’re with us, of course,” said Zadkiel.

“With you. But you’re going to the... the south corridor.”

“That’s right. Are you always this slow?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Today, you do.” He ran through the doorway, down the stairs.

Mallory drew out one of his guns, turning it over in his hands.

“Time to let off a little steam, Alice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You remember how when Florence pitched up, you wanted to kill her?”

“Yes.” Alice gritted her teeth.

“Now’s your chance.” There was a loud ‘click’ from his gun as he flicked the safety off. “How fast can you run?”

AS IT HAPPENED, Alice could run faster than she thought. She ran down the stairs... all of them. She ran through the little cloister they had seen earlier – now deserted – and in through another door. Her feet hammered on the floor, almost in step with Mallory’s as they ran towards the south corridor of the priory. Wherever that might be. She assumed Mallory and Vin knew better than she did where they were going.

“And we’re running why?” she shouted at Mallory as he edged ahead of her. Vin was way ahead of them both, trailing just behind Zadkiel.

“We’ve been given an order, Alice. This is what we do.” Mallory shot a look back at her over his shoulder. “You wanted to run with the angels, right?”

“I didn’t think it would be quite so literal...” she muttered, starting to feel out of breath. Mallory didn’t seem to be having the same problem.

They rounded a corner, where the others had stopped. Alice forced herself to a halt – almost losing her