Blood and Feathers (24 page)

Alice rolled her eyes. “Haven’t we already done this?”

Gwyn’s chilly ozone-scent filled her mind. “And you understand the consequences, should you fail?”

“Oh, god, no. Don’t want to think about it. Don’t need to. I won’t fail.”

Gwyn opened his mouth, paused, then closed it again. Apparently there wasn’t an answer to that. And that was good enough for her. Taking a deep breath, she walked around the circle of teeth, around the mouth, and stopped at the top of the steps. There she was, standing at the jaws of hell and hoping that no-one could see her shaking.

She stepped down.

They were all watching her.

She stepped down again, and again.

Out of curiosity, on the third step she turned and stepped back up... and found herself standing on the third step again. She tried again, and once more she realised she was stepping back onto the third step. “Wow. That’s a headfuck.”

A’albiel was at the edge, looking down. “We will not abandon you, Alice.”

She turned her face away from the sky, away from the angels, and began the walk down into darkness. The last thing she heard from above her was a warm, familiar voice saying, “Have faith.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Down the Rabbithole

T
HE FURTHER SHE
walked, the darker it got, and soon she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. While this didn’t exactly make her happy, given the stairs she was climbing down opened on one side to a bottomless pit, she had no choice but to keep going. Fun as the only-forward stairs were, Alice was sure the novelty would wear off pretty quickly. She kept one hand on the wall, allowing it to guide her round and ignoring just how
sticky
it felt. It gave her something to concentrate on; something – anything – other than where she was going.

Mallory hadn’t helped, standing on the other side of the table and staring at her with his sad eyes, saying, “There will be people you know, Alice. People you trusted. Remember how I told you that we have always been watching you? Well, so have the Fallen. And just as we had you surrounded, so did they.”

“You had to tell me that now?”

“I thought you should be prepared.”

Like anyone could be prepared for this. She misjudged her footing and tripped, grabbing at the wall to help regain her balance. Her fingers sank into the wall up to the knuckle.

“Alright,” she said to no-one in particular, pulling her hand free with a revolting squelch, “That? That’s just about the worst thing ever.”

The whole thing was impossible. She had caught herself that time, but she had no idea how much further there was to go, and it was inevitable she would slip again in this darkness.

She closed her eyes, not that it made much of a difference, and listened to the panicked pounding of her heart... and suddenly there was light. She held her hand ahead of her and the flame in her palm was barely the size of a tennis ball, but it gave her a chance to look around. It wouldn’t take long to burn itself out. She had come to realise that using her own emotions was a little like running on reserve power – just enough to get out of trouble, but never enough to do anything constructive – so she tried to commit as much as she could to memory.

The stairs kept on sweeping round and down, always down, further than she could see. That was either extremely encouraging or incredibly depressing; she wasn’t sure which. Nor could she stop herself from looking at the wall her hand rested against. She wished she hadn’t. It was definitely not earth, although she’d known that. It was softer. And were those made by... fingernails? Three long parallel gouges that swept past her at shoulder height, then abruptly cut off.

The fire burned out.

On the plus side, it had burned up the jolt of fear she felt, and she was calm again as she set off into the blackness.

H
ER LEGS WERE
aching by the time she realised she could see again – not clearly, but there was definitely a faint light coming from somewhere, edging her world with a sickly blue sheen. At this point, though, she’d take grey over pitch black. She peered down the central pit. It certainly looked like it was lighter down there, but whether that was a good thing remained to be seen. What it did mean was that she could pick up the pace a little, and despite her protesting muscles, she skipped down the stairs two at a time.

“You’d think I was in a hurry to get into hell. That’s my life now.”

There was no answer. There was no-one
to
answer her. She missed Mallory.

T
HE FLOOR, WHEN
it came, was stone, for which she was grateful. After the teeth and the suspiciously fleshy wall, she’d had a horrible feeling that she was going to find herself in the middle of a medieval painting, all flying livers and god only knows what else. But no, it was stone. Boring, grey stone. Still, it
was
hell, and her feet didn’t seem to want to move from that last step. Her breath billowed out of her, thick as an ash-cloud. It was cold down here. Really cold.

“Your guide will meet you at the gate,” Mallory had said. So where was he? Was this it, and Mallory was just being poetic, or should she be looking for an actual
gate?
And what, Alice wondered, would it look like? Her stomach flipped quietly and she decided it was safer not to give that too much consideration. She stepped down.

The floor made an alarming cracking sound and she threw out her arms for balance, half-expecting to be tipped sideways, but nothing happened and, feeling slightly foolish, she adjusted her coat and drew it closer around her. At least there hadn’t been anyone to see that. First impressions and everything. The stairs were at the end of a corridor hollowed through the same bland grey stone, which swept away around a tight bend. The pale blue light that had seeped up the steps was stronger here; it seemed to be coming from somewhere further along the passageway. There was something about it that made her uncomfortable, as though her eyes were constantly being pushed sideways. Huddled into her coat, she started around the corridor.

It curled around itself, dropping away more steeply the further she went. The blue light grew brighter as she turned a corner and spotted a large sconce bolted to the wall. It burned with a chilly blue flame; dark drips ran down the wall beneath it and there was a sticky black puddle on the floor. Alice had never seen anything like it. She lifted her hand, wanting to see if the flame was as cold as it looked, but as her fingers drew close, it shivered and drew away. The fire flattened against the wall, smearing itself across the stone, then pulled back to its original shape as she lowered her arm. She tried again, and exactly the same thing happened. The flame was
avoiding
her. And it cast no shadows.

“Well, that’s just
odd
.”

There was a sound from down the corridor and Alice froze. Just because she hadn’t seen anyone so far didn’t mean that she was alone. On the other hand, it could well be that her guide was waiting for her. She walked towards the noise.

The passageway ended, opening up into an enormous cavern: the roof soared up and away, arching further than she could see. And towering over her, their tops lost in the height above, were the gates of hell. Alice’s eyes still felt like they were being squeezed inside out by the peculiar light, but she stared anyway, panning down the front of the gates. Higher than a cathedral, broader than an ocean liner... they were vast.

Between her and the gates, there was a man. He had his back to her, the collar of his jacket turned up. There was something horribly familiar about the way he was standing; the way he held his shoulders, his hands jammed into his coat pockets. She took a step back, suddenly uncertain, but as she did so he turned his head slightly, and sniffed.

“You’re late,” said her ex-boyfriend, turning to face her with an icy smile.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Devil You Know

“Y
OU
?”
SHE SAID.
“You?”

“No need to be rude. You could at least pretend to be pleased to see me, for old times’ sake.”

“Why?! The last time I saw you, I told you to...”

“...to go to hell. Fair enough. Did that, and yet here you are. Anyone would think you were following me.”

“Oh, you’re funny.” Alice brushed her hair away from her face and looked Rob up and down. “So. You’re my guide.”

“Unless you want to go alone? But I’m telling you, you won’t get far.” He nodded in the direction of the gates. They really were very big.

“Wait. You don’t really think I’m just going to waltz into hell with one of the Fallen, do you? Because that’s what you are, isn’t it?”

“Sure. I’ll just go get one of the others. Who’d you prefer? Purson? He’s a big fan of your new friends – I’m sure he’d be thrilled to see you. Or what about Xaph...?” He smiled as she recoiled at Xaphan’s name. “Of course. You two have met already, haven’t you? I forgot.” He folded his arms. “Because that’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s not that you’ve got to rely on one of us for help – and I know that’s got to hurt, right, princess? – it’s that you’ve got to rely on
me
. So let’s just get this out the way now. Give me your best shot.”

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? If I made this all about you?”

“Fine. Have it your way.”

He turned away, apparently unconcerned, and Alice’s anger, so well controlled until then, exploded out of her.

“And that’s all you have to say for yourself? I should have known. I mean, I always thought you were just stupid, selfish... pick a personality trait. It never once occurred to me that you were actually out-and-out
evil
.”

“Evil? Look at me, Alice. Do I really look evil to you?”

He held out his arms and spun slowly round. He did have a point. Rob had never looked particularly menacing. He was as tall and just as skinny as Alice remembered, with a face that could have been handsome were it not so pinched, rather like all the Fallen that Alice had met. Maybe it was a family resemblance. But suddenly, knowing what he was – what he
really
was – made a lot of sense. He watched her eyeing him. “Let me be clear: I never made you do anything you didn’t already want to do. I couldn’t. Still can’t. That’s not how it works. Think of us as... enablers. We just help people to make the choice that benefits us the most. Don’t take it personally. It’s just business.”

“‘Just business’. I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Actually...”

“Say another word and I’ll kill you,” she snapped, holding up a hand. “Seriously.”

“I’d like to see you try.” There was a taunt in his voice, and she screwed her hands into tight fists, refusing to rise to it. It must have shown in her face, because after a moment, he made a dismissive sound and sniffed. “Whatever. Look, you need me and I’m supposed to help you. So let’s just get on with this, alright? I’m not the bad guy – whatever they’ve told you. Whatever you think you know.” He pointed at the gate ahead of them. “You think this is where I wanted to spend forever?”

“Not the bad guy? Quite apart from being an unutterable shit, are you telling me that you Fell by mistake? All this, it’s just a great big misunderstanding?” Her voice rose and she lunged forward, grabbing his wrist and pulling back his sleeve. She was looking for the brand, but what she saw stopped her in her tracks. “Jesus Christ.”