Rebellion baf-2

by Lou Morgan

  “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 into the cell. There had been fighting already – that much was clear from the state of his armour... and the look on his face. He stepped into the cell and fixed his gaze on her, and Alice felt very small.

  “I need to untie the ropes...”

  “You need to step away.”

  “All I have to do...”

  “What you have to do is stop, and step away.”

  “No.”

  “I’m telling you to step away.”

  “No.” Alice drew closer to the chair. Toby shifted, confused.

  “Alice? What’s happening?”

  “Nothing. It’s alright, Toby. I’m going to get you out of here...”

  Michael took another step closer – and too late, Alice saw the warning flash in his eyes.

  The mirrored room was there again, pressing on the edges of her mind. She could feel it, the cold of the glass and the heat of the flames. She could smell burning skin... and still she would not move away from Toby.

  Michael sighed, and it was more a sigh of pity than of anger, but the expression on his face did not change.

  “You made your choice.”

  “I didn’t know....”

  “You didn’t know? I told you there was a human here. I told you to choose: human or angel. You chose to save the angel.”

  “It’s Mallory...”

  “Quite. And you said it yourself: you would always have chosen him.”

  “But you didn’t tell me...”

  “You never thought to ask.”

  Alice hung her head. “I can’t.”

  “You can. And you will – unless you would leave Mallory here to die?”

  “No!”

  “Then step away.” At last, Michael’s voice softened. “You see, Alice, making the choice is easy. Living with it... that’s something altogether different.”

  Michael turned away from her and towards Mallory, stepping past Vin (who had backed himself as far into the wall and away from Michael as he possibly could) and stooping to examine the chains. He rubbed them between his fingers and looked thoughtful. “Helliron. How quaint.” He ran a fingertip over the symbols set in the metal and laughed coldly. “I see Xaphan’s grammar hasn’t improved... still, this is new for him. Clever. We shall have to remember this.” With his other hand, he made a quick gesture, drawing something in the air – and the manacle flared red. It didn’t spring open, as Alice had hoped it would, but the writing on it flamed once, then vanished. Michael let the chain drop back to the floor with a clatter. “Still unpleasant, but now he should be able to get himself out of it. And if he can’t... well, frankly, he deserves to stay put.”

  He knelt beside Mallory, and his fingers moved through the air; twisting and spinning and looping around and over themselves, drawing a complex shape which hung over the unconscious angel’s head, glowing... then vanished. Michael whispered something into Mallory’s ear. He stood, nodded at Castor, and gave Vin a strange look that Alice did not quite understand.

  “I’ve wasted enough of my time. When he wakes, give him these and tell him to report. And bring her.” He handed Castor a familiar L-shaped bundle of cloth. “You hear me? Bring her.”

  “‘By your choices, you muzzle yourself’?” Alice repeated his words back to him, and he nodded thoughtfully.

  “Now you live with it. As we must.”

  And just that like, he was gone.

  Apparently on cue, Mallory sat bolt upright, squinting at Vin. “You hit me. You bastard! You hit me!”

  “You deserved it.”

  “I was... I was saying something, wasn’t I? It was important.”

  “No idea, mate. I usually tune you out: you’re just a string of annoying sounds to me.”

  “Now...” Mallory fell silent as he spotted Alice, and his face cracked into a smile. “You’re alright.”

  “‘Alright’ is a relative term.”

  “You’re alright enough.” He took in her face, how close
she was to the chair; her hands still resting on the rope. “You know.”

  “What – you were hoping I wouldn’t?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Alice saw Mallory glance at Vin, who shook his head. Mallory’s shoulders sagged and his face clouded.

  “Michael said to leave him, didn’t he?”

  “He said it was you or him... but he didn’t say it was him, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Michael offered you a choice.”

  “But I didn’t know!”

  “We never do. We never know what our choices will do – either to us or to other people. That’s what makes them choices. If we knew what would happen, we’d always take the easy outcome: hardly choosing, is it?”

  “If...”

  “I’m sorry, Alice. That’s all I can say.” He stood, slowly; wincing as he straightened. Giving his wrist a shake, he peered at the manacle. “Michael couldn’t be bothered to actually unlock it, then?” he asked. Vin shrugged, and Mallory sighed. “Of course not. I’ve got to do that my bloody self, haven’t I?”

  As he fiddled with the manacle, Castor cleared his throat.

  “He said to give you these,” he said, holding out Mallory’s guns. Mallory brightened.

  “Ah. I was wondering where they’d got to.” The manacle pinged open. “So much for that,” he said, rubbing his wrist. He took the guns from Castor, checking them over and pulling back the slider on one, then on the other. As he went over the second one, he glanced up at Castor.

  “You need one?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Here.” Mallory held it out to him. “It’s yours.”

  “I said I’m fine.”

  “You’re lying. You’re a long way off fine. I don’t know what’s happened, but it’s not good. Take the gun.” He waved it, grip-first, at Castor, who finally took it and nodded his thanks.

  “Michael wants us?” Mallory asked Vin, tucking his gun into the back of his belt.

  “He does.” Vin glanced from Mallory to Toby to Alice... and slipped out into the corridor with Castor.

  “Well, then.” Mallory looked at Alice, still huddled close to Toby’s chair. “I’ll give you a minute – no longer. We can’t risk it. One minute and then you’re coming with us. Even if I have to carry you,” he said. He paused beside the door. “I was prepared to die for him, Alice. I want you to know that. Still am...”

  “So how come you’re walking away?” Her voice was hard, bitter.

  “You want the simple answer? Fine. It’s Michael. If he says the choice is made and you have to live with it, that’s it. So do we. Choice is made.”

  “And that’s it, is it? You’re prepared to die for him, until Michael wags a finger at you?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Then tell me, Mallory. Tell me what the fuck it is like. Because I thought you were supposed to be an angel. If you won’t help him, what good are you?”

  Mallory rubbed his face wearily with a filthy hand. “It’s not my choice, Alice. You made the choice. You. You chose.”

  “But you didn’t. So help him!”

  “I can’t. Because it was your choice, I don’t have the power to overturn it. Michael has seen to that. I cannot help him. I don’t have the free will. I have to follow my orders.”

  “Hypocrite.” Alice bit back a tear. “You’re a hypocrite, you know that? You talk about choices. You talk about how they matter. About how every decision we make matters...”

  “It does...”

  “And then when it’s convenient, you stand there and you shrug and you say that, hey, it’s not up to you...”

  “It’s not! It was up to you!” Mallory’s voice rose as he lost his temper and banged his hand against the door. “You stupid girl; you still don’t understand, do you? I’m not like you. I’m not human. I don’t follow the same rules as you, and sometimes freedom is a luxury I don’t have. This is one of those times. Right now, I can’t help him. You want to see what happens if I try? Fine.” He spat the last word at her, and strode towards Toby... and suddenly stopped, halfway there, as though he had hit a wall. His whole body jerked back, and there was the unmistakable smell of burning feathers as the tips of his wings started to smoulder. “Choose, Alice. Choose. We leave him, or you have me die trying to save him... and you lose us both.”

  Alice stared at him, at the smoke coiling up from the edges of his wings, and she understood. Michael had given him an order – a real order – and he was powerless to disobey. Michael had made sure that it wasn’t only Alice shackled by her choice: he’d tied Mallory to it as well. Just to be doubly sure. The woman on the beach had been right: the angels were cruel. She shook her head, and – relieved – Mallory took a step back. He relaxed instantly, ruffling his wings as they healed. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, Mallory.”

  “One minute.” He watched her for a moment, his face inscrutable, then stepped outside, leaving Alice alone with Toby.

  He barely seemed to know what was happening. She wasn’t surprised, and she couldn’t blame him. He had no idea where he was, why he was there, what he had done (or not done), and none of it made any sense. He must have been there since the riot. She’d tried to push him away. To protect him. She’d done well at that, hadn’t she?

  She brushed his hair away from his face.

  “Alice... what’s happening?”

  “You got in the middle of something, Toby. You didn’t mean to, and it wasn’t your fault. But now you’re in.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t either.”

  He was looking at her now; straight at her. His eyes locked on to hers. “You’re going to leave me here, aren’t you?”

  “I’m sorry, Toby. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “You said you were going to get me out...”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “You’re just going to leave me.”

  “I can’t...” Alice found herself drawing back from him. She hadn’t meant to – not at all – but still, she had pulled away.

  “You’re going to leave. With them.”

  “I have to.”

  “You don’t have to. You can help me!” He strained against the ropes, and the chair rocked from side to side. “Please! You can help me!”

  “I can’t. I can’t untie the ropes, and I have to go. I’m sorry.” She dropped a kiss on his forehead, along with her tears. “Someone will come back for you and get you out, I promise... I’ll send someone. Just... hold on.”

  “You can stick your promise, Alice.” Toby’s voice was heavy, and it hurt Alice more than anything else in that room. She was abandoning him, and he knew it.

  “I’m sorry...” she said again, and she meant it. But somehow she was beside the door and he was still tied to the chair. Still tied to the chair and beaten. Still tied to the chair and bleeding.

  And she was beside the door where the angels were waiting.

  Toby turned his head away from her, and there was nothing else to say.

  Mallory’s face was grim, but he was still waiting. “It’s time to go,” he said. Alice nodded.

  “I know.”

  “Alright, then.” He glanced up at Castor and Vin. “Let’s go.”

  Toby heard them walk away. By the time the echoes of their voices had faded, the only sound left was his sobbing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  The Garments of Vengeance

  ALICE HAD BEEN right about the fighting. While she and Castor were looking for Mallory and Vin, Michael and his choir had torn through the rest of the warehouse. Things were burning everywhere Alice looked. Sheets of paper blew along corridors – some scorched, some still on fire – and pools of fire dotted the floor. Shouts echoed through the building; shouts, and the occasional scream. Alice felt dizzy, unstable. Nothing made sense. She had left Toby. Toby, a prisoner of the Fallen, and she had left him to be tortured, perhaps even to die. Beside her was Mallory, his face blan
k. But he was angry, and he was hurt. Whatever Michael had done, it hurt – and more than that, it had forced him to obey. Something which never sat well with Mallory...

  They rounded a corner and walked almost straight into two of the Fallen, who recoiled and gnashed their teeth at the sight of Mallory. He sidestepped one, dodging neatly and bringing his gun level with the other’s heart. He pulled the trigger, and the unfortunate creature took a bullet in the chest, falling back with a shriek. Without breaking his stride, Mallory whirled around and smashed the butt of the gun into the other’s face, knocking him to the ground.

  “Where is he?” he shouted, leaning over the Fallen, who grinned and spat up into his face.

  “He’s coming home,” he hissed.

  “Lucifer? Fuck that. That’s not who I meant and you know it,” said Mallory, and sharply brought his boot up under the Fallen’s chin. His head snapped back and lolled against the floor.

  “Coming home, indeed. Load of old bollocks.” Mallory muttered.

  Castor was staring at him.

  “What?” he said, stopping mid-stride.

  Castor blinked back. “You’re a crazy person. An actual crazy person.”

  “Me? No. No, right now, I’m angry. You want to see what happens when I get crazy?”

  “Is that likely to happen tonight?”

  “That depends on how long it takes me to find Rimmon.”

  “MICHAEL!” ONE OF the angel’s wings was broken, and hung down at his side. Michael pulled his sword up and out of the body on the floor and turned to look at him.

  “What?”

  “Xaphan has been sighted. He’s heading...”

  “Follow him.”

  “You don’t want us to stop him?”

  “Not yet. Xaph’s usually the first one to run, and he’s usually the one who knows where to go. So watch him, follow him... whatever it takes.”

  “We could...”

  “And if you kill him, what do you think Lucifer will do?”

  “I understand.”

  “Good.” Michael wiped his sword clean. “I won’t have our plans spoiled – not now we’re so close.”

  “Yes, sir.” The angel saluted and hurried off.

  “MICHAEL TOLD YOU to report to him.” Alice was having trouble keeping up with Mallory, who was now storming ahead of them.