Rebellion

arced from pillar to pillar and bounced back into the steam. There was a yelp, and then silence... and Gabriel strode out of the steam, wreathed in flickering sparks. Everything that was absent from Michael’s face was there, in his: rage, fury, pure loathing. And madness.

There were only angels left now: angels and what was left of the invaders, crumpled on the floor.

“Michael. The dogs. We need to discuss...” one of Michael’s choir, a Descended with burning wings, shouted.

Michael tossed his sword to another angel, who caught it, although it almost took his head off.

“I don’t see anything to discuss. They brought dogs. Why would that be unexpected?”

“But...”

“It means nothing. Forfax’s little pets. Nothing more than that.”

“Dogs?” asked Alice, raising an eyebrow at Mallory.

“Dogs.” He replied. “Forfax: one of the Twelve. He breeds them; feeds them on human flesh.” He paused as she shuddered. “I know, I know. We thought they had all burned with hell. Obviously we were wrong.”

“And that’s...” She waved in the direction of the fireplace and the furry thing. It now looked a little less furry and a little more gooey.

“Yep.”

“You know, just when I think I’ve got a handle on... all this, you somehow manage to raise the bar. Every time.”

“They’re just dogs, Alice. Bastard dogs with big fucking teeth...”

“...which eat people...”

“Which eat people, yes, but they’re still just dogs.” He rubbed his temple with the barrel of his gun, and pulled a face. “Although. Maybe you do have a point,” he conceded, as Michael came through the steam toward them.

Zadkiel stepped forward to meet him. “South corridor’s secure.”

“You contained them?”

“We did.”

“And you killed them?”

“Every last one.” Zadkiel leaned closer to Michael and murmured something to him, making him laugh. He raised an eyebrow, and moved around Zadkiel to Alice.

“So. I hear you can follow orders after all.”

“He asked me nicely.”

“Did he? Must be losing his touch.” Michael rubbed his hands together, pulled a small red cloth from beneath a wrist guard and wiped his fingers with it before tucking it back into his armour. “Gabriel!”

“Here,” he answered. Alice took an instinctive step backwards – although not as large a step as Vin.

Michael held his hand out towards the other angel, who took it and knelt. “I think it’s time.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ve earned it. And I’m told we need the numbers.” With his free hand, Michael traced a shape in the air above Gabriel’s head, twisting and looping his fingers around each other and leaving faint trails of fire in the clearing steam.

“You may want to take another step back,” said Zadkiel, who was suddenly about five paces behind them. Alice frowned.

“Wh...” She didn’t get to finish the sentence.

There was a deafening crack – and another, and another – and a wind howled through the hall, rushing between the columns and whistling as it went. But it was the lightning that sent Alice scrambling backwards, as two bolts smacked into the stone an inch in front of her feet.

“I did warn you,” said Zadkiel, his arms folded.

Lightning filled the hall; slamming into the walls and floor and curling around the columns. It lit the whole space up with bright, clear light, and the smell of ozone filled the air. Gabriel and Michael were lost in the glare... then, as soon as it had come, it was gone: the light fading to a dim point on Gabriel’s chest, and then to nothing.

Slowly, Gabriel stood. He stretched out his wings, and Alice bit her lip. They were restored: bright white and crackling with electricity, and sweeping the floor behind him as he stretched.

Gabriel was an Archangel again.

“Oh, shit,” said Vin, speaking for all of them. Gabriel heard him; his head snapped round, blinking at them. A cold smile flashed across his face, but was gone in an instant.

“Just what we need,” Mallory said out of the side of his mouth. If Gabriel heard the barb, he didn’t rise to it. Instead, he straightened up and looked Michael in the eye, nodding once. Michael nodded back, his eyes searching Gabriel’s face, then he turned abruptly and went to inspect one of the fireplaces, where two members of his choir were standing to attention. The others might as well have melted into the stone or blown away on the wind; there was no sign of them. The lump in the fireplace smouldered gently.

“Well, Mallory,” Gabriel said, the smile spreading back across his face. “Perhaps, seeing as you and your little friends are still here, you might like to make yourselves useful by finding out exactly what happened to those prisoners you seem to have lost...”

“I lost?” Mallory’s jaw tensed.

“Your prisoners, your problem.” Gabriel arched an eyebrow at them.

“Just like old times, I see.”

“Just like old times.” Gabriel locked his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. “Find them. That’s an order.”

“BUT WE ALREADY know what’s happened here: even Alice can work this one out, right?”

“Oi!”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, right.”

Alice and Vin were slouching down yet another corridor behind Mallory, ‘following orders.’ Vin had taken to making little quote marks in the air with his fingers every time the phrase came up. Mallory had taken to kicking him every time he did it.

Zadkiel said something about needing to check the remaining corridors. “The priory is secure, but I need to be sure there’s no more surprises.”

“That wasn’t a surprise. That was a diversion, and you know it.” Mallory didn’t bother to hide the frustration in his voice – Archangel or not. Zadkiel’s shoulders dropped a little.

“I know. The question is: what didn’t they want us to see?”

“A big show of force and Xaphan and Florence disappearing... you don’t think those two might be slightly connected?”

“If you think that’s all there is to this, Mallory, you’re as big a fool as Gabriel seems to take you for.”

Zadkiel flicked his fingers up in a gesture which could have been a salute and smiled sadly, handing Mallory’s second gun back to him.

“Thank you for the weapon. Castor! With me.” He shot Alice a look, and strode off down the corridor with Castor, leaving the three of them alone.

“The guy’s a master of the backhanded compliment, I’ll give him that,” Mallory sighed. “I’m still not sure how to take that one.”

“I guess it depends on what you make of Gabriel,” said Alice.

Mallory snorted. “Mmm. Speaking of whom, seeing as Senor Sparky is back in Michael’s good graces, we’d better trot along on our little errand, hadn’t we?” He checked the gun’s magazine, ejected it and slotted in a fresh one from his pocket. “And after that little performance, I don’t care what Xaph’s got to say for himself. If he so much as sniffs at me, I’m going to give him an exciting new hole to breathe out of.”

THEY AMBLED THROUGH the corridors without any real urgency, and Alice wondered if they were as tired as she was. Neither Mallory nor Vin showed any sign of flagging, but both of them were dusty and covered in battle scars. There was no way they could still be feeling fresh. She caught herself... and then relaxed. There was no