Rebellion baf-2

by Lou Morgan

  But the Alice that Toby had described was so different – so very different – she might as well have been someone else. How could that be? People were who they were, weren’t they? They didn’t flip a switch and change from one thing to another...

  Not unless someone tried to make them.

  Not unless someone told them they were two things and then left them hanging midway between the two.

  That was the kind of thing that could break someone, make them take the wrong turnings; make the wrong choices. He knew it better than anyone: Rimmon had taught him that, all those years ago.

  Mallory thumped his head back against the wall so hard that he saw stars, and he hoped that Alice – his Alice – was stronger than Toby believed her to be.

  She would have to be.

  VIN LISTENED FOR footsteps, a sound... anything. Anything at all that might suggest someone was coming.

  Naturally, there was only silence – if you discounted the dogs. There was always noise from the dogs. But given what Forfax actually fed his pets, Vin wasn’t sure he didn’t prefer the racket they made when they were hungry. At least then he knew they weren’t eating someone...

  He had no idea what he was going to do when he actually managed to get out of this cell. None. He’d tried to come up with a plan, but it hadn’t exactly worked out – so instead, he was working on the basis that he was going to find Mallory and ask him what his plan was. Mallory was bound to have a plan.

  All Vin had to do was get to him.

  He had no idea how long he waited but, finally, there were footsteps. No cane, by the sound of it, which meant it wasn’t Forfax. Maybe that was a good thing. The more he listened, the more footsteps he heard: it was at least six or seven people, he decided, walking quickly and quietly. One of them sounded like they were dragging their feet.

  He held his breath as the footsteps passed the door and started to fade, and then – as hard as he could – he slapped the door with the flat of his hand. The metal made a loud bong, ringing in his ears and making his eyes water. A noise like that must have got someone’s attention...

  The grille in the door slid back with a rattle, and Vin dropped into a crouch below it, sliding as close to the door as he could. He could hear the Fallen on the other side breathing as they peered in... but couldn’t see him. A key turned in the lock; a bolt was slid back.

  He crossed his fingers and hoped it was one of the stupider ones, and then he moved.

  Quick as a flash, he was on his feet. He darted back a couple of paces from the door – and before the unfortunate creature on the other side had time to move, Vin had thrown himself feet-first straight at the metal.

  He didn’t have time to consider what might happen if the hinges did not give, which was just as well. Give they did, shattering in puffs of dust. The door ripped free from the wall, twisting under its own weight and the force of Vin’s attack, and spun into the corridor. The Fallen who had been foolish enough to be on the other side of it was pinned beneath it as it fell. He screamed once, then fell silent. Vin didn’t much care. All he cared about was getting away: the metal door had sung like a cathedral bell as it fell, and someone would have heard it.

  Looking first up, then down the corridor, Vin weighed his options. The footsteps had passed from left to right, hadn’t they? They had sounded like someone was being taken somewhere – someone reluctant. A prisoner. So were they being taken to or from a cell? He thought about it a moment more, then spun abruptly to the left and set off along the corridor at a cautious jog.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Thicker Than Water, Stronger Than Death

  THERE WERE MANY things Jester wished he could change. He would have told Vin to stop being an idiot. He would have done his physics homework in the fourth year of secondary school. He would have asked Alice how it felt, being a half-born, just to see if it was the same for both of them, even though he doubted it could be. Not with Alice being Alice.

  But of all the things he would change if he could; of all the glittering possibilities, he would have listened to his sister.

  If he had listened to his sister, things might have been different.

  If he had listened to his sister, he would have heard her telling him that she had met someone. He would have known when she began to withdraw, to change. He would have noticed the bags under her eyes, the fading light behind them. He would have known.

  At least, this was what he told himself when the door shut behind them and the two of them were alone in the room.

  It wasn’t much for a family reunion: a rectangular concrete box with a table in the middle, bolted to the floor. A mirror ran the length of one of the longer walls, but Jester knew what that really was. A small, round speaker jutted out of the opposite wall, and a tiny CCTV camera blinked at them from the corner. There was nothing else in there except for the knife on the table. And Florence.

  The problem was that Jester recognised the knife – or at least, he thought he did. He didn’t know how, exactly, but it tugged at some part of him he couldn’t quite find. It rattled around in the back of his mind like a half-forgotten promise. It made him think of summer, of learning to ride his bike. Of the smell of poster paint...

  It made him remember.

  Zadkiel. It was Zadkiel’s.

  And it was here.

  He looked at Florence across the table.

  The room filled with white noise as the loudspeaker crackled into life.

  “The door can only be opened from the outside, so don’t try to be clever.” The voice that piped through the speaker was strained; echoey. And unpleasant. “It’s a very simple principle here: two half-borns enter the room. We only need one of you. Actually, I’ll rephrase that. We only need one of you dead, which means one of you is free to leave. Which one that is... that’s up to you.”

  The speaker cut out, leaving Jester and Florence staring at each other across the table, and then it spoke again. It was the same voice, but easier now: less cold, somehow. “Florence? I’d prefer it if it was you...” This time, when it cut out, it stayed silent.

  OF ALL THE things Jester wished he could change, he wished he had listened to his sister.

  “WE CAN’T,” HE said, holding her gaze. Her eyes were flat, lifeless; her hands hung by her sides.

  “We have to. He said.”

  “Who?”

  “Him. Lucifer. You have to do what he says.”

  “Why?”

  This seemed to stump Florence, and she blinked in surprise. “Because.”

  “No, really, Flo. Why?”

  “Because you have to do what he says.”

  “I don’t. And neither do you.”

  “He’ll hurt Xaph.”

  “Fuck Xaph. What’s he done to you?”

  “Don’t talk about him like that. You mustn’t.” She glanced over her shoulder at the camera, its red light blinking on and off. Jester sighed and waved at the window.

  “They can see us, you know. They’re watching. They’re standing right there. Right on the other side of the glass.”

  “I know.” Her hand crept forward, Jester’s heart sank.

  “And you know that if I took it... if I took the knife, he wouldn’t lift a finger to save you?”

  “I’m past saving.”

  “No, you’re not.” He reached out and closed his fingers over hers, around the handle of Zadkiel’s butterfly knife. “Don’t help them. Leave him.”

  “I love him...”

  “He doesn’t love you.”

  “He does, in his own way.”

  “I don’t think he can.” Jester kept his voice low. She looked so broken, so fragile. If only he could get her to see... But her eyes suddenly hardened and she pulled her hand away from his.

  Jester knew it was hopeless. “Fine. You won’t listen to me. I never listened to you, so that’s fair. But you can’t help them, Flo. Look what they’re doing.”

  “Taking back what’s theirs. That’s all.”

&nbs
p; “If you believe that...”

  “I love him.”

  “You’re wrong. I’m not going to fight you over this. I’m not going to make it easy.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “There’s a reason they’re doing this. You know there is. What if we both refuse?”

  “Then Lucifer will kill us both without a thought.” Florence took a step around the table; a step closer to Jester. He took a deep breath.

  “Then you do what you have to do.”

  “OH, COME ON. I thought you liked this sort of thing!” Rimmon was grinning at Mallory, while Toby whimpered in his chair. There was a small puddle of blood around his feet, which was steadily growing. “Maybe,” Rimmon said with a laugh, “maybe it’s just that you don’t like to watch. You want to be involved... a little more hands-on. Is that it?” He had his back to Mallory, who was on the floor, his back against the wall and his face turned away from what was happening. Rimmon’s attack on Toby was remorseless, pitiless and merciless. He cut and he slashed and he hacked and he twisted... over and over again. And when he was bored with that, on went the hood and out came the bucket.

  Three times, he had come and gone – and each time he had left, it was harder and harder to reach Toby. Mallory had tried. But the second time, the words that came back to him from the far end of the cell were slurred; the pauses between them longer than they should have been. The third... there was barely anything more than a moan. Rimmon had almost broken him, and he knew it.

  “You see, Mallory, you did me a favour. Purson left a gap in the chain of command when he died. And it turns out that torture’s one of my talents.”

  There was another wail from Toby and Rimmon chuckled.

  “Let him go,” Mallory said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Let him go.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Because it’s not him you want. It’s me. You have me. Let him go.”

  “Oh, no.” Rimmon turned away from the chair and towards Mallory, wiping his hands on a cloth he’d pulled from his pocket. It was stained unpleasantly red. “And you know why? Because it’s killing you to watch, isn’t it? Tell me: how does it feel to be helpless?” He dropped into a crouch in front of him, hands resting on his knees. “So you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to keep you here, like a pet. You’ll stay here, chained to this floor, and every day, I’ll bring you a new friend, and every day, you will watch them die, slowly, painfully, begging for you to save them. And every day, I will ask you again.”

  “Ask me what?”

  “To join us.” Rimmon stood up and stretched. “And sooner or later, you will say yes.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Then you’re going to have to get used to this...” Suddenly, Rimmon had a jagged metal spike in his hand, and almost gracefully, he rammed it deep into Toby’s thigh. Toby screamed, and Rimmon smiled. “You could save him: all you have to do is say yes. How much blood are you willing to have on your hands, Mallory?”

  “As much as it takes.”

  For the first time, Rimmon frowned. “Make your peace with this one,” he said, ruffling Toby’s hair. “I don’t think he’s going to last much longer.” He patted Toby’s cheek, and winked at Mallory. “I’ll leave the light on this time, petal. Just so you can get a really good look at what you’ve done.” He was humming a tune as he walked out, leaving his instruments strewn across the floor.

  Mallory couldn’t look at Toby. He tried; he did. But he couldn’t bring himself to. The problem was that he knew Rimmon meant what he said. Toby would die, and after him there would be another and another and another. An endless procession of bodies, just to break him. And that was the worst of it: hadn’t Toby asked what he had done to deserve this? Nothing. He had done nothing.

  Mallory, on the other hand...

  THERE WAS A scratching sound from the other side of the door. It was too soon for Rimmon to be back: based on his other disappearances, he’d be gone for some time yet – and if there was one thing Mallory could be sure of, it was that no-one else was going to be allowed to play in his sandpit. He’d staked his claim to Mallory, and that was the way it was going to be. So who was at the door? And why didn’t they just walk in, instead of lurking out there, trying to be quiet–

  “Vin?” Mallory was careful not to raise his voice.

  “How’d you know it was me?”

  Mallory’s heart leapt with relief. Not only was Vin alive, he might be able to get them out. Or at least help Mallory to get them out...

  “I’ve never met anyone who makes as much noise trying to be quiet as you do. It couldn’t have been anybody else. Where are we?”

  There was muffled swearing on the other side of the door. “Forfax’s place.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “Don’t suppose you know how we got here, do you?”

  “You expect me to know that?”

  “Call it blind optimism.”

  “Well, can you blindly and optimistically open the door, Vin?”

  “Hang on.” There was some scuffling, and a scraping sound. More swearing... and the door creaked open.

  “Tadaa!” said Vin brightly, sticking his head inside.

  His smile faded as he took in first Mallory – dirty, ragged, his clothing full of buckshot holes – and the mess on the floor... and finally the chair, complete with Toby, slumped like a rag doll beneath his bonds.

  “They’ve really stepped up their game, haven’t they?” He let out a whistle.

  “Well, you made it easy. You left a spot on the team open when you took Purson out.”

  “Who?”

  “You can have three guesses. You won’t need them.”

  “Rimmon?”

  “Rimmon.”

  “Look who’s all grown up...” Vin said under his breath. Mallory scowled.

  “I heard that. I don’t know how long we’ve got. Can you get us out?” He lifted the chain in his hand, and Vin took it, weighing it in his palm. He frowned, closed his eyes and frowned some more.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing. I don’t know what it’s made from, but I can’t even dent it.” He grabbed Mallory’s wrist and rubbed at the manacle. “Same with this.” He leaned in closer, peering at the band. “Is that Enochian?”

  “If it is, it’s not like any I’ve ever seen.” Mallory pulled his arm away. “But it’s effective. I can’t leave, I can barely heal. And I can’t help him.” He nodded to Toby, but Vin was already there. He picked his way through the detritus Rimmon had left, and through the spatters of blood on the floor, his face creased into a scowl. As he reached Toby, and finally saw his face clearly, he sucked in a sharp breath and glanced back at Mallory. Without a word, he checked over the ropes that tied Toby, and the chair... and then he picked his way carefully back.

  “I can’t help him.”

  “He’s only tied with rope, Vin. Even you can deal with that.”

  “You’re asking for my help, and you’re still insulting me? Charming.” Vin shook his head. “But no. It’s not just rope. There’s some kind of metal thread in there.”

  “Don’t tell me: same metal as this.” Mallory waved his wrist, and his chain jangled.

  “I’d put good money on it.”

  “Looks like they managed to get some of their helliron out of Xaph’s lab, doesn’t it?” Mallory flicked at the manacle round his wrist. “Bloody stuff.”

  “Given we tied him up with rosary chains, you’ve got to laugh at the irony, right?” Vin shrugged and looked at Mallory. Mallory glared back at him with a face like a thunderstorm.

  “Oddly, I don’t.”

  “No. Right.” Vin stared at the floor.

  THEY STOOD IN silence: Vin listening, and Mallory turning over every possible option in his mind. None of them were great. A couple of them were terrible. Only one made any sense – and even then, it was about as far from ideal as it was possible to be.

/>   “Vin...” he said, looking up, “I don’t think I’m going to get out of this one.”

  “Don’t even start.”

  “I think you’re...”

  “Would you shut up already?” Vin snapped at him, but Mallory smiled grimly.

  “You know what I’m asking.”

  “Yeah, and you can go fuck yourself. I’m serious.”

  “No you’re not. You’ll do this because I’m asking you to and because it’s a mercy.”

  “No way.

  “Vin...”

  “Nope.”

  “Vin...”

  “I’m not listening.”

  “Kill me. Kill me and leave – before we all lose the chance to make the choice.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Gambit

  “YOU’RE OUT OF your fucking mind!” Vin spluttered. “It’s absolutely out of the question. You’re insane – and even if you weren’t, it’s still not going to happen.”

  “I wish I was.” Mallory sighed, but it felt better, having said it. “This isn’t about him.” He gestured towards Toby. “It’s about me. It’s about me and it’s about Rimmon, and it always has been and it always will be.”

  “That’s it, isn’t it? You’ve finally lost it.”

  “I’ve not lost it, Vin. I’m collateral damage.”

  “Round the twist, that’s what you are.”

  “He told me, alright? He told me. That kid, over there, is going to die. Because of me. And then they’re going to throw him out like so much garbage... and they’re going to find themselves another one. And another one after that. And I can’t help them, and I can’t stop it!” His voice trembled with rage, and Vin took half a step back. He’d never seen Mallory like this.