Another cheer, and this time the angels began to step out of their lines. They were forming a crowd, with Castor and Michael as the centre.
“We take them. We take them now!” Michael shouted, raising his sword towards the sky. The angels roared in response and Alice stared open-mouthed at them as they bayed not for Lucifer’s blood, not for the Fallen, but for Gabriel’s. Gabriel, who until hours before had been one of their own.
“Not your bad guy anymore,” she whispered, remembering what Mallory had told her the first time he’d mentioned Gabriel.
“Alice, when the lights go out and the world stops, at the end of time, and there’s nothing left but dust and ash and embers... Gabriel will still be standing there with blood on his hands.”
“He sounds like a piece of work. You’re sure he’s one of the good guys?”
“He is. He’s just a bad one.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever seen much of a difference between the bad good guys and the good bad ones.”
“Oh, there is one. Namely that he’s ours.”
The memory didn’t exactly make her comfortable.
THE SOUND OF wings filled the cloister; the rustle of feathers as angels took flight. It was either an extraordinary thing to see, or a ridiculous one. Alice was too tired to be sure. She felt like she had stumbled into the middle of something; something too big for her. Finally, she was ready to call it quits and to go home – because this... this, she knew, would break her.
“Doubt? You?” The voice was an inch from her right ear. She froze.
The air smelled of woodsmoke, and she could hear his wings.
“Not doubt.”
“I should hope not. What, then?”
“I don’t know.”
“Adriel gave you a message for me.”
“Yes. Now can you stop breathing in my ear?” Alice snapped, glaring at Michael and taking a step away from him. He straightened up, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Message, Alice.”
“He said to tell you the apprentice was ready. What does that even mean?”
“It means that Adriel has done the right thing.”
“Which is...?”
“The Angel of Death cannot be partiaclass="underline" he cannot be ‘ours’ or ‘theirs.’ Not at a time like this. He simply... is.”
“Which is why Lucifer isn’t any more.”
“Quite. You can imagine how that would have gone, can’t you?” Michael scowled, but continued. “Adriel was chosen from those of Lucifer’s choir who remained. He was the most... level-headed. The most balanced.”
“Looks good in a suit, too.”
“Yes, I’m sure that was one of our main considerations.” He sighed. “Everything will change, Alice. If Lucifer is restored. Everything. Do you understand?”
“Not even slightly.”
“Perhaps it’s best that you don’t. And do you still want to come with us?”
“Do they still have Vin and Mallory?”
“They do.”
“Then what do you think?”
“I think I would have immense trouble keeping you here. But don’t for a moment make the mistake of thinking that I couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. And you would not enjoy that at all.”
“I’m not going to blithely shut up and do what I’m told, so let’s not even waste time on that conversation.”
Michael made a sound which might have been a growl, but she pretended not to notice. After a moment, he sighed. “It doesn’t matter what I say to you, what I order you to do, does it?”
“No.”
“You realise that they are there, in part, because of you?”
“No. They’re there because they made choices. Just like I’m here.”
“Mallory chose to give you time to get away.”
“That’s why he’s my friend.”
“Tell me, Alice: why would you risk so much to save him? To save them?”
“Because he... they’re worth saving.”
“Would you do the same for me? Am I... worth saving?”
“I’m not sure.”
Michael laughed, but there was very little joy behind it. “One thing you will obey me in, Alice, and this I do mean. The Fallen will have other prisoners. Mallory is being held with a human. You cannot save them both.”
“Why?”
“Because. Human or angel. Make your choice.”
Alice stared at him. “You’re telling me – you, Michael, all-powerful angel and all that – you can only save one of two people in a room.”
“No, Alice. I’m saying you can only save one of them.”
“What’s the catch?”
“That’s for you to decide. Now choose. Choose, or stay behind – and remember, if I take you, it’s nothing more than as a show of faith. Stay out of my way. I have work to do, and there’s more at stake than the lives of a couple of angels.”
“You’re a caring type, aren’t you?” She was getting used to Michael’s utter disregard for anyone else, but even so... “Of course I’m going to pick Mallory. Why wouldn’t I want to help him?”
“And therein lies the bane of my daily existence.” He opened his wings. “Remember your choice, Alice.”
“You’re not going even going to try another ‘do as you’re told or I’ll muzzle you’ speech? Frankly, I’m disappointed.”
“Do not provoke me, Alice.” He stood in front of her with his wings wide open and his eyes burning, holding out a hand. “Besides, by your choices, you muzzle yourself.”
His fingers closed around hers and the world filled with flame.
“I HATE THAT,” she said, opening her eyes. Wherever they were, it was dark. It was dark and it was damp and it smelled like oil and, quite possibly, vomit. Old vomit, at that. “I really hate that.”
“You would rather have walked?” Michael sounded even more sarcastic than usual.
“No, I’d rather have...” Alice started to look around, and tailed off. “Where the hell are we, anyway?”
“Where they are.” Michael nodded to a warehouse just ahead of them. “The Fallen. Gabriel. Lucifer.” The last name came out in a hiss.
Behind them, Alice could just see the outlines of Michael’s choir: they were trying to blend in, trying to be subtle. Trying, not succeeding. And she realised that this was where they were going to miss Zadkieclass="underline" not just because he hid them, made them forgettable when they needed to be... but because he was merciful.
What had driven Gabriel to Lucifer? Vengeance, she was willing to bet. Vengeance on... everyone – on Michael, most of all. And what would Michael do without Zadkiel behind him? Adriel had told her to help him, to help Michael. To help the angels to remember.
Human or angel. Make your choice.
There it was. What Adriel, more than anyone, had been trying to make her see. That there was no choice. She was both. That was the point of it all. She was both and always would be, and that was where she stood – between the two. More than that, it was where she belonged. And Adriel – impartial Adriel – had not only seen it, but he had tried to tell her so, before all hell had broken loose.
He’d seen it all coming.
So what was this ‘apprentice’ business, and what did it mean?
The angels were restless, shifting their weight from foot to foot; ruffling their feathers and muttering amongst themselves.
Alice looked at them all, and she knew they would not be merciful.
Betrayed not once, but twice, by their brothers. Betrayed by one of their generals. Besieged and attacked in their own safe haven, and forced to watch as the world they had been protecting tipped away from them.
No. There was no way they were going to be merciful.