Rebellion

how it feels.”

“I know. It’s...”

“Besides, you’ve not melted the roof. Or the floor. Or my face, so you’re doing fine. But point taken. We’ll move it along. Carefully. We don’t know where they are, or if they’re waiting for us.”

“They’re always bloody waiting for us,” Alice groaned.

There was an ear-shattering crash from somewhere in the building, and the floor beneath them shook. Alice looked at Castor, and Castor looked back at her.

“Following orders.”

“WAKE UP. WAKE up. Wake up.” Vin was almost yelling into Mallory’s ear. “You great big...”

He froze at a sound in the corridor, pressing himself against the wall behind the door. Footsteps.

Rimmon was coming back.

Vin picked up his rope again, winding it around his fingers and letting the knotted end dangle. When Rimmon came to the doorway, he would swing it up and around the side of the door, and it should hit him in the face. Or the throat. Or possibly go straight over his head: Vin realised he had no idea how tall Rimmon actually was... Still, maybe he’d be lucky. And maybe Rimmon had the keys on him. And if neither of those things worked, he could always improvise... even if he’d have to face Mallory sulking about it afterwards.

The footsteps came closer, hurrying now. There was more than one set. Two, maybe? Three? The echo made it hard to be sure. But they were coming closer, and fast.

They approached the door, and stopped.

Took another step closer and, finding the door open, halted again.

They stepped into the doorframe... and Vin swung into action, throwing out his arm. The rope curled up and around the door, where it met what looked like a baton. It wound itself round the rod, and the knot grazed the door with a harmless clunk.

Vin stared at the baton poking around the edge of the door.

The rope started to smoulder, smoke spiralled up and into the air.

Now that was something Vin did recognise... and he stepped out from behind the door.

Alice and Castor, his baton still raised, stared back at him.

Without a word, Alice threw herself at him, hugging him tight. “You’re alive.”

“I don’t die easy. Not like this one...” Vin jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“No. He’s not...”

“He’s not. But it’s not for lack of trying.” He stood aside before she could push him out of the way, and Alice rushed over to Mallory.

“What happened?” She stared at him.

“We had a slight... disagreement.”

“What the hell about?”

“About whether or not his dying was an option.”

“What?”

“Don’t.”

“Seriously?”

“It wasn’t my idea...”

“And you decided to test the sodding hypothesis, Vhnori!” she shouted, slapping her hand on the floor. “You’re unbelievable! Why didn’t you just get him out?”

“Can’t.” Vin knelt beside her, and lifted Mallory’s wrist. The lines tracking up his arm seemed to be spreading.

“What is that?” Alice peered at them, and Vin shook his head.

“I don’t know. There’s something about this manacle. It’s stopping him being... him. We can’t break it, and whatever it’s doing, he can’t heal it. Raphael could, maybe...”

“Raphael’s not here. But Michael is.”

“And the others?”

“About that...” She tailed off, unsure how to continue, but Castor cut in.

“Zadkiel is dead. Gabriel betrayed us, and has joined Lucifer. They have the key.”

“Restoration?”

“I’d say so.”

“Huh. I try and relax for a couple of hours and the whole world goes to shit...”

“Now’s not the time to kid around, Vin. Adriel said something about Lucifer calling his choir.”

“Yeah... he will. Adriel included.” Vin frowned; bit his lip. “So that’ll be fun.”

“What now?”

“You’re the rescue party, you tell me.”

There was a soft groan from the other side of the room, making them all jump. Alice looked up from Mallory, and for the first time, she noticed the chair.

“What’s that?” she said, her attention suddenly on nothing but the slumped shape there.

“That’s... a long story.”

“The long story just groaned.”

“Rimmon was using him as leverage. To get to Mallory.” Vin paused, and made a face. “Guess it wasn’t that long a story after all.”

“And you’re just going to leave him tied to the chair?”

“Same problem I’ve got with Mallory. I can’t untie him.”

“What, you never went to boy scouts or something?” Alice was walking across to the chair.

“Don’t,” Vin called out, but it was already too late.

“Toby?”

His face was swollen almost beyond recognition. Almost. But she knew him. She knew the curve of his jaw; the scar that ran down his cheek and which stood out despite the slick covering of blood and sweat and who knew what else. And she knew his eyes when they opened and looked at her.

“Toby...”

“Alice.” He spoke in barely more than a whisper.

“What happened?”

“Am I dead?”

“What?”

“Am I in hell?”

“No. You’re not in hell – trust me on that one. Although...” She rocked back on her heels and looked around at the cell. Based on what she’d seen so far, this was nothing like hell. It was far, far worse.

“Come on. We’re going to get you out of here,” she said, her fingers running up and down the ropes, looking for a knot.

His chest was heaving, and for a moment she was afraid he was too badly hurt: that he was having a seizure, or going into shock – or whatever else people did when they’d been treated like this. He hurt so badly that he could barely even feel the pain: he was numb, and Alice was appalled to realise that she was grateful. He couldn’t feel it... so she didn’t have to, and she was ashamed of the relief she felt.

The ropes were stiff and tight, and she couldn’t move them. She looked up at Vin and Castor, both of whom stood beside Mallory’s prone figure on the floor.

“Are you going to help me?”

“Alice...”

“I need you to...”

“Alice.”

“If I can just...” Her fingers were digging into the ropes, but still they didn’t move.

“Alice!”

“Help me!”

“They won’t,” said a voice from outside the door, one that echoed inside Alice’s head; and Michael stepped