“I got a little distracted. You know, watching a complete stranger drown herself? And not being allowed to help her?”
“We were helping her, Alice.”
“Could we,” Vin said, “maybe talk about this later? Talk being the operative word?”
“I’m not the problem here,” Mallory snapped.
Castor had had enough. He grabbed Xaphan by the scruff of his neck and dragged him, unconscious, as far away from the rest of them as he could within the limits of the chapel. He dumped him unceremoniously in the corner behind the altar. Brushing his hands off, he looked first at Mallory, then at Alice, and finally at Vin. “Tell me something. I don’t mean to pry, and it’s none of my business, but do you lot usually fight this much?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mallory snapped back. Castor held up his hands as though Mallory had just proved his point.
“It’s just that... I do know you, Mallory. And this doesn’t strike me as being particularly in character. Has it occurred to you that having him hanging around might be...”
“A bit of a downer?” Alice chipped in. Castor pulled a face.
“Not the most elegant way of putting it, but that’ll do, yes.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Earlier. Ever since they showed up, things haven’t been right. And the only time I felt better...”
“...Was in the town. Not that that lasted long.” Mallory finished her sentence. “Alright, Castor. You might have a point. Maybe.” He rubbed his face. “We’ve just got to hang on until we can hand them over to Michael. Speaking of whom...” He raised an eyebrow at Pollux, who shrugged.
“It was Zadkiel watching you. I’m sure of it.”
“Which would make sense. From what we can gather, he’s been the one at work in the town.”
“Yes. And he saw you and followed.”
“Well that’s just marvellous, isn’t it? Marvellous. So Michael’s expecting us, then?”
“Most certainly.”
“Great. As if I wasn’t already looking forward to tomorrow enough.” He stared at the ceiling for a moment, then shook his head. “Fine. Alice: I’m sorry. Are we good?”
“We’re good.”
“Good. And next time, tell me if we’re being stalked by an Archangel, would you?” He scowled at Florence. “I don’t want to see her or hear her... not a sound. As far as I’m concerned, she’s a bargaining chip and nothing more. I have absolutely no further interest in her. Not making that mistake again. Get her out of my sight.” He waved at her dismissively, then turned his attention to Xaphan, who was still unconscious. “Make yourself useful, Vin,” he said, tossing him a piece of rope.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Vin said, cracking his knuckles. He crouched in front of Xaphan, picked up the rope, and wrapped it around Xaphan’s wrists. He rested his fingertips on the coils, and as Alice watched, the rope began to stiffen and grey, hardening as it turned to stone. Vin stood up and stepped back, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s see the smarmy little bastard weasel his way out of that one, shall we?”
“YOU SHOULD GET some sleep.” Mallory slid his back down the wall to the floor alongside her. They had done what they could with Xaphan, and with Florence, who had, at least, seemed to take Mallory’s warning seriously and was now as docile as she was ever likely to get. Calm had returned to the chapel.
“After all that? I’m not exactly nodding off here,” she said.
He shrugged. “It’s likely to be a hard day tomorrow. Everything’s a mess; I don’t like it.”
“So you keep saying.”
“Doesn’t make it any less true, does it?” He flicked some grit out from under his fingernail, took the cap off his hipflask and took a long, long swig. He held it out to Alice, but she waved it away.
“You know I don’t. Besides, I’m sure you were supposed to be giving up.”
“People keep saying that to me. Vin threw my last flask into the river in the middle of hell. It wasn’t exactly a choice on my part.”
“What about the whole being-Descended-again thing? I thought you only drank because you were Earthbound, and... stuff.” Alice tailed off, seeing the look on his face.
“You really do think the best of me, don’t you?”
“Not always.”
“Sure you do. One of us has to.” And he raised his flask and took another swig.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Strange Pilgrims
IT RAINED IN the night, and the sound of the raindrops on the roof was surprisingly soothing as Alice sat in the dark. Most of the candles had burned out hours before: only the little stand of votives near the door remained lit. They flickered from time to time, the flames rising and falling in their coloured glass holders. Mallory was asleep on the floor; one gun in his hand, one tucked into the back of his belt. She felt a pang of guilt about what had happened to his jacket. Mallory without his jacket was like... well, like Mallory without his jacket. Vin had propped himself in the end of a pew, leaning his head back against the wall, and was snoring loudly. Even while he was asleep, he still had his sunglasses on. He had taken the whole business with Jester, and with Florence, harder than any of them.
Alice thought about it for a moment, and decided she’d feel a lot calmer once they handed Xaphan and Florence over to Michael. Not all that long ago, she wouldn’t have considered handing even her worst enemy over to Michael. She still wasn’t sure she would. But Xaphan, and Florence with him?
No problem.
She closed her eyes and drifted off, just as the first pale green light started to creep through the vine-covered windows.
“OI! ALICE.”
There was something nudging her shoulder.
“Fnnghff.” She swatted at it. It nudged again. It really was quite insistent.
“Alice. Alice. Alice.” A pause. Maybe if she ignored it, it would go away?
“Alice!”
“Alice isn’t here right now, but if you’d like to leave a message...” she mumbled from behind her hair.
“Fine. Well, when Alice shows up, would you tell her that she needs to get her arse in gear?” Mallory laughed. “You’ve got two minutes, and then I’m dragging you out by your heels and dropping you in the sea. That’ll wake you up.” Alice peeled her eyes open. Knowing him, he meant it.
Her skin felt sticky from sleeping in her clothes, and her shoulders ached from the damp stone floor, but other than that she felt surprisingly rested. The chapel was peaceful and calm, and Alice had absolutely no desire to leave it. Not that staying was an option.
Mallory was standing in the doorway, watching Castor and Pollux haul Florence and Xaphan out, stumbling over the step and tripping over their own feet. They had used the spare ropes to tie them together again, like ponies being led along a cliff. Mallory eyed them as they edged past him, turning to Pollux. “Keep them away from me, you understand?”
Pollux nodded and yanked on the rope, dragging them forward. Xaphan sneered at Mallory. Mallory sneered back, but Alice still saw his hand creep down to his guns.
“Good morning. I see you’ve decided to join the rest of us,” he said as she came to the door. “Sleep well?”
“Not really. But I’m getting used to that,” she muttered. Mallory shrugged.
“You can sleep when you’re dead.”
“Thanks. That’s immensely reassuring.”
“All part of the service.” He ducked out through the door.
“Mallory?” Alice followed him out into the dappled light.