Blood and Feathers

by Lou Morgan

  “You sound like Michael. The only good Fallen is a dead one, right?”

  “Something like that.” Mallory narrowed his eyes at Lucifer and stepped in front of Alice, between them. He raised one of his guns, slowly. Lucifer just smiled at him.

  “No,” said Alice, quietly. Mallory took no notice.

  “No,” she said, louder this time, and although he hesitated, he brought his gun up higher.

  “I said no!” Alice grabbed at his elbow, just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet smacked into the rocky roof of the cavern.

  Mallory rounded on her. “Do you think this is easy for me, Alice? Do you? Haven’t you listened to a single word I’ve said? This is about more than you. It’s about more than me. It’s...”

  “Don’t tell me. It’s your duty, is that it?”

  He was silent for a moment, then simply said, “Yes.”

  “I won’t let you kill my mother.”

  “She’s in hell, Alice. Your mother – the mother you knew – she’s already dead. Let her go.”

  “No.”

  “Alice, I can’t...”

  He didn’t get to finish. Instead, he was sent sprawling by a kick from behind. So distracted had they been arguing with one another, neither had thought to keep an eye on Lucifer, and he had crept up on them, knocking Mallory halfway across the ice with a single blow. Alice watched in horror as Mallory skidded across the lake, crashed into a wall, and lay motionless.

  “You see, child,” Lucifer said, “the angels are not on your side. The angels are on their own side. You are either with them, or against them. And if you dare to stand in their way, well...” He opened his arms.

  High above them, deep in the rock, something groaned and shook, and a light shower of dust and snow settled on Alice’s shoulders.

  “Ask yourself: what would your mother want for you, hmm? What would she tell her little girl, do you think? No. Wait. Better still: let me ask her for you.” He tipped his head back, as though listening to a far-off voice, and then snapped back to Alice. “She doesn’t want to die, Alice. Not at all. She doesn’t understand why you’ve brought them to kill her. She’s afraid – afraid of them, afraid of you. Afraid that you will judge her. After all, who are you to judge an angel?”

  “And who,” growled Mallory, pushing himself to his feet, “are you to hold one hostage?” He was limping, and he was bleeding. Again.

  Lucifer shrugged. “I’ve never pretended to be something I’m not, Mallory. Unlike you.”

  The rockfall came from nowhere. One moment, Mallory was standing, the next he was half-buried in stone and ice and dust while Lucifer looked on with blazing eyes.

  “And let’s just think about you, shall we? On the one hand, you’re a healer, aren’t you? That’s what you do, isn’t it, when you’re one of Raphael’s. That’s all you do. But here – well, there” – he pointed upwards – “as an Earthbound, you’re something. You’re special. They look up to you, don’t they? They treat you differently. They think you’re wise, you’re brave, but the sad little truth of it is that you’re damaged goods, aren’t you? You’ll never make it home because you drink, and you drink because you’ll never make it home. You were given a chance with a half-breed and you lost him. You lost him to me. And so you slide and you slide and you slide, burying yourself in all the wrong things, until you become what you are: a man with nothing, absolutely nothing to lose. Which is why you’re here. Because you not sure that you can keep hoping any longer. You’re afraid that you’ll lose it.” There was an ominous rumble overhead. “And without hope, there can be no faith. And without faith... well.” He clapped his hands together and a tumble of stone and dirt cascaded over Mallory, smashing against his wings, his arms, his face.

  Alice watched Mallory sag under the weight of the rock. Blood ran down the side of his face and one of his wings was twisted back on itself. The feathers fluttered feebly. But Lucifer had not finished.

  There was a sound like nails on a blackboard and a great sheet of ice lifted from the surface of the lake, tilting and tipping, spinning on its end... then slowly it slid towards Mallory. He eyed it carefully, and with a grunt of effort, he beat his free wing and sent rubble and stones flying, pulling himself loose and rolling clear of the ice sheet just as it smashed across the pile where he had been trapped. He dropped into a crouch, looking up at Lucifer.

  “Is that the best you’ve got?”

  “Was that a rhetorical question?”

  The wind howled around Lucifer, still in Seket’s body, and Alice could see everything Mallory was thinking. It was why Lucifer had been so calm when he showed up, why he had made no attempt to attack her. It was the same reason she was out of ammunition, out of fire. He knew neither of them could do it. Neither of them could really kill him or, rather, kill the body he was in.

  He had them both.

  He had won, and she wished the ground would open and swallow her – again. Anything to get it over with quickly. Alice understood that he had won, and she despaired.

  And Lucifer must have known, somehow, because he turned and gave her a smile that made her skin crawl.

  It was all Mallory needed.

  He leapt at Lucifer, knocking him flat and pinning him to the ice. Mallory straightened up, his boot on Lucifer’s throat, and before Alice could even breathe, he had fired a bullet neatly through his shoulder. Through Seket’s shoulder. Alice screamed, and Lucifer just laughed.

  “Go on, Earthbound. Finish the job.”

  Mallory raised his gun, ever so slightly. It was now in line with Lucifer’s forehead, aiming straight between his eyes.

  Words were tumbling out of Alice’s mouth. Angry words, frightened words, any words she could get to stick together. Mallory heard them, but still he stared down the barrel of his gun into Lucifer’s bright red eyes.

  “You can shoot me. I won’t hold it against you. Well, not much.”

  “Fuck off, Lucifer.”

  “Listen to you. Never were very much for words, were you? Why use your head when a fist works so much better?”

  “But funnily enough, you’re the one stuck in hell. Explain to me how that works?”

  “Oh, you’re in hell already, Mallory. You just didn’t Fall. So shoot me. Shoot her. Make it perfect.”

  Mallory’s hand shook. His whole arm shook. He was looking at Seket’s face, a face he hadn’t seen in so long: it was drawn, and lined, and not to put too fine a point on it, looked like she’d been through hell. Which was fair enough. But in the middle of that face, in the place of the soft eyes he had always known, there was Lucifer looking out at him. He had his boot on Lucifer’s throat, but it wasn’t Lucifer’s throat, was it? It was Seket’s. She would be the one who died, not Lucifer. He would just hop on over to another of the Fallen. And that was the way it was.

  But Lucifer had kept Seket here, kept her in this chamber, alone, all these years. Why? Was she worth something to him?

  Alice.

  It was all for Alice.

  Mallory’s grip on his gun tightened.

  Lucifer wanted Alice. He had known about her, and he had her right where he wanted her. He had played them all, or even engineered it himself. Mallory couldn’t be sure which, and wasn’t certain he wanted to be. Somehow Lucifer had found the perfect opportunity to get to Alice.

  “Always were an opportunist, weren’t you?” said Mallory.

  Below him, Lucifer batted his eyes in mock innocence. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “You’re forgetting. I know you. I know how you work. And I know Alice.”

  “Do you? Are you sure? Do you trust her, Mallory? Tell me that. More importantly, does she trust you? Think what she’s been through: what you, the angels, all of you, have put her through. And now, at the end of it all, she gets her reward: a chance to see her mother, to be with her. You should never underestimate the power of grief.”

  “You know what?” Mallory rolled his eyes. “You’re an arse. You always were. You’ve no
t changed.” He cocked the gun.

  Lucifer simply carried on smiling. “And you,” he said, “apparently still have too much faith.”

  Alice’s punch hit Mallory squarely in the jaw, knocking him sideways. “Get away from my mother.”

  “Alice.” Mallory staggered slightly as he tried to regain his equilibrium. “That’s not your mother.”

  “I don’t care.” Alice was standing between them, between him and Lucifer, her face dark.

  “Alice...”

  “No.” She raised her left hand, and already he could see the flames around her wrist; a hot, shining bracelet. He followed her gaze... and saw the smear of blood from Lucifer’s shoulder on the ice, and he cursed himself for being so stupid.

  “Alice, he’s using you. He’s using her. He always has been.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She took a step towards him, and behind her, Lucifer flashed his appalling smile. Overhead, the rocks groaned.

  “Alice. If you stand in my way, I only have one choice.”

  “You don’t make choices. You follow orders.”

  “Because I choose to.”

  “Because you have to.”

  “You want to get into the semantics of it with me? Fine. Step out of my way. Let me finish this.”

  “No.” She took another step forward, and Mallory could see it in her eyes: she was going to kill him, and hand Lucifer even more than he could ever have dreamed.

  “Alice. I’m not going to warn you again.” He raised the gun; leveled it at her.

  They stared each other down, and there they would have stayed, had it not been for the quiet voice carried on the wind, saying just two words.

  “Mallory. Please.”

  “Seket?” Mallory’s mouth dropped open.

  Behind Alice, Seket nodded. It was her.

  “Is he gone?”

  “No. And he won’t ever leave, Mallory. Take her. Get her away.” Her eyes settled on Alice, still frozen between them, apparently unable to hear her. Another creak came from the ceiling of the cavern, and the ice shifted beneath their feet. Seket shook her head. “He can’t hold it. Hell will collapse, starting with this cave. You have to get her out of here.”

  “She won’t go.”

  “She must.”

  “Seket, I can’t...”

  “You will, Mallory. You can’t win here, now, but there will be a time and a place that you can. All you have to do is find it. And be ready.” She frowned. “I can’t stay. He’s too strong.” Her eyes flashed red, and back again, and Mallory felt his heart cracking inside him. “Tell her I gave her the only thing I had left,” said Seket, and then Lucifer’s voice chimed out of her:

  “What’s that?” he sneered. “Love?”

  “No,” Seket answered. “Pain.”

  ALICE HEARD IT coming for her. It roared, breaking over her like a tide. She was swimming in it, drowning in it, and even as it washed over her, through her, she felt the fire rushing to meet it. It burned away everything in its path, everything that Seket had felt in the coldest, hardest part of hell.

  And Alice knew what would happen next.

  She couldn’t control it, couldn’t even begin to. There was just too much of it. There was nothing but pain.

  Fire ripped through the ice around them, punching holes in the sheet they stood on, knocking them off their feet as blocks of ice tore free from one another. The frozen lake was burning.

  Ice floes loomed over them as they tipped in the water, sliding against one another, and Alice looked from Mallory to Seket in panic. The ice lurched alarmingly, throwing her towards Mallory, who caught her and locked his arms around her, pulling her close to him where he knelt. “You stay with me.”

  “No. Mum!” she called, seeing her mother struggle to her feet, but when Seket looked around, her eyes were flashing red and back. Lucifer was trying to take over again, and she was fighting him.

  “Not for much longer,” said Lucifer’s voice, but even as he said it, he lost control and the red glow faded. Seket smiled at Alice, and their eyes met, and then she turned, throwing herself forwards and on to the jagged shard of ice that rose to meet her.

  The flames boiled around them, climbing higher as Alice screamed. She watched Seket’s body tense, impaled on the ice, and then relax. She saw blood seeping out – obscenely red against the cold blue – and dripping down into the water and fire. She felt Mallory’s arms tighten about her... and she turned her head to look at him.

  “You can help her! Before it’s too late. You could heal her!”

  “Maybe I could.”

  “Then go! Go help her!”

  “No.”

  “What? But that’s what you do! You heal people. She’s hurt, she’s dying. She’s dying. You could save her.”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that was her choice.” His voice was flat; rough, sad.

  Alice realised he was crying, and it was only a moment later that she realised she was too.

  There was a groan overhead, and a shower of rocks fell from the cavern roof. The ice shuddered, and Seket’s body slid slowly into the lake. Alice screwed her eyes shut and wished that she could be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anyone else.

  Mallory’s grip on her shifted. He released her and he was taking her hand, pulling her to her feet.

  “We have to go, Alice.” Another shower of loose stones and frost fell from above them. “Now.”

  They ran. The ice slipped beneath their feet and fissures opened ahead of them, throwing fire up into their paths. They jumped from ice-sheet to ice-sheet as the pieces tipped and tilted and rolled across the water. Twice, they fell, scrambling back up again and moving, and the door to the stairs was forever away.

  Behind them, on the centre of the lake, Lucifer’s body stood imprisoned on its own ice sheet, ringed by fire, his empty eyes watching them go.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Heaven Help Us

  THE STAIRS SEEMED narrower on the way back up; longer, too, and even colder and darker. Mallory kept hold of her hand. She felt as though a hand had simply reached inside her and torn out everything that could feel.

  She had found her mother, and she had lost her again. And this time, she was gone. There would be no more chances.

  “Mallory?” Her voice felt small. “Why did she do that?”

  “Because she knew it was the only way.”

  “She could have come with us. We could have...”

  “Could have what? Saved her?”

  “Yes.”

  “No. She knew what was right, Alice. Trust in that. She would always have been your weakness, and mine.” Ahead of her, in the darkness, he sniffed.

  “I let her down. I let you down, Mallory. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Let me down? Bollocks. You listen to me, Alice, and you listen carefully. You might be a half-born, but you know what that makes you? Half-human. You remember that. It makes you better than us, even better than your mother. It makes you... more complete.”

  “Right. Because that makes sense.”

  “The greatest wisdom is usually the most impenetrable. Just look at fortune cookies.”

  “You eat those?”

  “Only the cookie. I find the fortunes tend to get stuck on the way down.” He coughed theatrically and, despite herself, Alice laughed.

  The blackness of the stairway was paling to grey. Somewhere beyond it, there was light, of a sort, and they stumbled out into a passageway.

  “I never thought I’d be so pleased to be back in the middle of hell,” Mallory muttered. He looked tired, thought Alice, as he turned towards her. Tired and stretched. “You alright?”

  “No. I’m not alright.”

  “But you will be, and that’s what matters, Alice. You will be.”

  “What happened to Lucifer?”

  “Who knows?” Mallory blew out a long, frustrated breath. “But don’t for a second think that he’s gone. He’ll be back.”

&
nbsp; “She won’t, though, will she?”

  “She won’t, and I’m sorry for that. But it couldn’t have gone any differently.”

  “If I...”

  “No,” he said, taking her by her shoulders and looking into her eyes. “You couldn’t.” He held her gaze, then released her. “Know that. Remember that.”

  A rumbling sound echoed out from the stairwell, and Mallory pointed down the corridor.

  “We need to go. Do you remember the way you came?”

  “Not even remotely.”

  “Just as well I do then, isn’t it?” He rolled his shoulders, checking his wings over. The damaged one flapped weakly.

  “Does it hurt?” asked Alice.

  Mallory gave her a wry smile. “You could say that. It’ll mend soon enough. But it means we’re on foot, so best get moving. Goodness only knows what’s going on up there.”

  ON THE PLATEAU behind the remains of the Bone-Built Gate, the battle was over. The Fallen had either been killed or had fled, and Raphael’s choir were moving across the field, looking for their own wounded. Following them through the carnage was a curly-haired figure with a satchel slung over his shoulder, his wings tucked neatly behind him as he bent to examine each of the injured. Slowly and carefully, the Archangel Raphael picked his way through the dying and the dead, and he wept.

  From a rock to the side of the shattered Gate, Michael surveyed the ground. What he saw did not please him. There were too few of the Fallen, too many of the angels. The attack had been sloppy, too soft. More to the point, it had been a trap. One into which Gabriel had allowed his army – Michael’s army – to march ill-prepared and unaware. The Twelve had escaped. If they had even been there at all. He doubted that they had. Lucifer was an opportunist, and he was heartless, but he was no fool.

  The damage had been done. Someone would have to pay.

  “Brieus?” Michael half-turned to the angel standing behind him, and Brieus snapped to attention, lowering the standard he had captured. His face was still stained with Azazel’s blood, and his hands were sore and bruised. And when hell’s flag fell, the battle had turned. Of course, the arrival of the Archangels might have had something to do with it, but the way Brieus saw things, it had been all about the flag.