"Quiet," she hissed when one angel yelped as some creature dashed across his foot. She looked down and could just discern the outline of a mouse as it scurried through the alley.

"Afraid of a mouse," she mumbled. "And he's one of the very best Beliel could find. Bah."

After about ten meters she felt the door's frame, and then a tender part of her hand smacked against the handle. "Ow!" She quickly covered her mouth. She'd never known the door to be locked, and as she shoved her shoulder against it, the hinges groaned, then squealed, and then cracked open. She shoved again and again and, finally, she had just enough s.p.a.ce to slip through into a small room at the bottom of the northeast tower.

Adryel peered out into the quadrangle. The windows in the cla.s.sroom building and the dormitories were blank, like eyes with no life in them. She detected no light, no movement. The blankets on which the students had slept the night of the attack still lay scattered around the fire pit. The school seemed undisturbed, as if the soldiers had loaded their prisoners into the carts, trundled them away, and simply locked the door as the last one pulled through the gate.

Lucifer huddled by the fire outside of his tent. The army was camped around him, and the soldiers were preparing their evening meals as the light faded.

They would attack in a few hours. His agents in the city had sent word that Adryel, Beliel, and the others were safely inside the walls. Lucifer chuckled. He had allowed three other caravans loaded with food and other necessities to pa.s.s during his march toward the city, not counting two that had pa.s.sed his army at the base of the mountains. He had even sent one of them himself. As a result, today's wagons would have aroused no suspicion.

Michael was so careless. Since the students had been expelled, he'd made no attempt to monitor those who came and went. It almost seemed as if he believed Lucifer would simply disappear, never to be seen again-as if that would ever happen. But, thanks to Michael's negligence, it had been child's play for the group to ride undetected past the guards this afternoon.

Adryel's group of ten was not tasked with seizing full control of the entrance. A company of Lucifer's soldiers would approach after dark. Shortly after midnight, Adryel would open the gates, and, once ajar, the soldiers would charge in and take control. The entire army would pour in behind them. If things went well, the city would be theirs by dawn.

He sipped his ale and stared into the fire. . .something was not right. He listened quietly, but he heard nothing unusual. He looked around him, but night had arrived, and he could not see past the last campfire. He paced to the end of his tent and back. Something was definitely wrong. He could feel it. Even in the darkness.

Lucifer's head snapped up.

Yes. It was too dark.

He stared across the plain for several moments before realizing he could not see the city. Normally, it overflowed with light-lanterns in the great tower, candles in the windows of each house, torches at each station along the wall, fires on every hearth. The lights would mingle and blend, and Celestial City would glow, a golden radiance visible two days' journey across the plain. It had been so just a few minutes earlier.

Now, all light seemed to have been doused. Beyond the fires of the soldiers, the world was black. But why? Lucifer had seldom before known an absence of light, and it made him uneasy.

He had counted on the city's lights, especially those from the palace. Each evening, three hours before midnight, the lights in the Great Tower were extinguished in a ceremony that could be seen for miles across the plain. A guard would march from window to window, opening each lantern and placing his bell-shaped snuffer over the candle inside, commencing on the north side and advancing to the right. The lights would disappear floor by floor, beginning at the pinnacle and moving toward the ground. It took half an hour to darken each level, and, with six floors, the last candle would be extinguished near midnight. His army was set to move out when the first lights were snuffed.

Even though Michael knew they were nearby-they weren't hiding, after all-he couldn't know that the lights in the palace were to signal Lucifer's attack. Perhaps he simply thought darkness would deter him from striking. If so, he was very wrong.

Lucifer returned to his tent and rummaged through a sack he had tossed into a corner. After searching for several moments, he withdrew a coil of rope. The fibers had been soaked in a solution that r.e.t.a.r.ded fire. If he lit the end, it would smolder, and only about a foot would burn in an hour's time, a rudimentary clock. He held the rope against his arm. It was a bit shorter than he needed. It should burn about two hours, not quite right, but close enough.

Lucifer stuck the end of the rope into the fire. It flared, then the flames died, leaving the tip glowing in the dark. He called Ami and Mia, poured goblets of ale, and the three of them sat down to wait.

After a short while, Ami and Mia drifted off to sleep, but Lucifer kept watch. As the fire consumed the last of the rope, he stood and paced off twenty steps, turned, and came back to his tent. He knew it was not quite time, but better that his soldiers arrive early rather than late.

Lucifer made the announcement. "Douse the fires." He stuck the torch he was holding into a pail of water, and with a hiss the fire died away. "We're moving out."

Maliel approached as the army prepared to depart.

"Lord Lucifer, what are your orders for battle?"

A smile played around Lucifer's lips.

"Give no quarter. Kill them. Kill them all."

Michael stood on the city wall directly above the gate. Spread before him on the dark plain were the campfires of Lucifer's army. Only a thousand strong, he reminded himself, many of them schoolboys on a great adventure. He shook his head. Such a waste.

As he thought of the battle that would come, of the senseless carnage that would result, he caught the sound of the gates as they opened. The hinges had been well oiled earlier in the day, so the noise was m.u.f.fled. Even if the rebels had scouts in front of their lines, they would miss the sound. Looking down, he could just make out the dim outlines of his soldiers as Dariel led his legion toward the east. The group moved silently, picking their way carefully though the darkness so the rebels were not alerted. When they had all departed, Keruel would take his soldiers to the west. Finally, once they were set, Gadriel's troops would take their position between the city and Lucifer's soldiers.

Ramael had wanted to command the troops tonight and to lead the first legion into battle against the rebels. He had healed from his wound and he had returned to service, but Michael thought it unwise to place him in a position in which he might encounter Adryel. Rumor held that she had been the one to target him, aiming her brick while his head was turned. Ramael was a power, after all. Michael feared that a conflict between Ramael's feelings of love for his pair and a need for retribution would cloud his judgment should they meet on the field of battle.

Moreover, regardless of what Adryel had or had not done, Ramael blamed Lucifer for losing her, and Michael feared Ramael would risk his own life needlessly, allowing nothing, not even an entire army, to prevent him from seeking out Lucifer and destroying him.

Michael shook his head as he thought about Adryel.

He could not imagine what had happened to her. Lucifer had left her in command when he had fled the Inst.i.tute, and Michael believed her now to be one of his chief aides. During the beginning of her audience with Adonai, she appeared to be properly in awe of him, but Michael had sensed a change. He was not quite certain what was different, the way she walked perhaps, the tone in her voice, especially when she had called him a liar, maybe the expression on her face.

He nodded. Her face. That was what he had noticed. She had been quite beautiful as she had walked across Adonai's throne room, but her once lively, deep blue eyes had faded to almost white, with only a tinge of color remaining-they appeared empty, vacant, lifeless. The eyes of one who no longer cared.

Michael shivered. Such creatures were among the most dangerous-more treacherous than those who truly believed in a cause. For true believers, the cause was more important than anything else, and they wanted to live, to carry on their struggle, sacrificing their lives only as a last resort. Creatures such as Adryel had no such belief, no hope, no love, no reason to exist. They cared not whether they lived or died, and would fight to the death without a second thought or a single regret.

Michael gazed into the distance at the fires around which Lucifer's army camped. The distance could be covered by soldiers in two hours with a forced march, three at a standard pace.

He failed to understand Lucifer. How could he imagine his ragtag band of students could possibly overcome the army of heaven? Could he be planning to lay siege to the city with the illusion that the army would simply hide behind the walls and wait for an attack? Not likely. If that was his plan, why would he have allowed caravans to cross the northern plain, bringing supplies? One had entered just this very afternoon, in fact.

Michael knew Lucifer had sympathizers in the city-he'd been surprised when bystanders had pelted his soldiers with garbage the day they had expelled the rebels from the city. One of the wagons had almost been overturned and the prisoners freed. While some of Lucifer's followers had left the city after that-Michael knew of ten by name-not many had gone. He a.s.sumed Lucifer was in contact with his supporters, and he suspected they planned to open the north gate for Lucifer's army. Michael had doubled the guard, just in case, and had ordered that all the lights in the city be extinguished shortly after dark, so that the city and its walls were less visible from the plain than they normally would have been.

Two hours pa.s.sed-enough time for Dariel and Keruel to leave the city, moving toward their a.s.signed positions-and Gadriel's troops began to slip onto the plain, taking their places in front of the rebels. Michael shook his head sadly. Lucifer's schoolboys would awaken at dawn and see Gadriel's legion drawn up in front of them and they would believe they were looking at the entire army of heaven. They would think they stood a chance.

But, in truth, even if Gadriel's legion had actually been the entire army, Lucifer's force still would not have been able to stand against it. And it was not the entire army, just a single legion. Lucifer's boy-soldiers would find themselves outnumbered three to one, caught in a triangle, each side formed by a legion. What would they think, how would they feel, when they found themselves being crushed from all sides with no avenue for escape?

It would be a slaughter.

Michael watched as the fires in the rebel camp began to go out, a sure sign of an army settling in for the night. He smiled-Lucifer's fires had served their purpose. They had made it possible for Michael's soldiers to find the way to their positions in the dark.

Adryel and the others huddled by a small fire inside the deserted Inst.i.tute, finishing the bread and cheese they had brought for their evening meal.

"Beliel, it's time to move. You have the oil?"

"Of course."

He pointed to eight containers of grease that had been stored in one of the wagons. They had hidden them under their robes as they trekked through the city. Those would have been difficult to explain to the guards had they been stopped, but they'd had no better way to transport the containers.

"Lord Lucifer's office is at the top of the central tower. Soak that roof well, Beliel. If any oil is left, pour it on the roof of the Commons. Wave to me when you've finished, and I'll signal when to set the fire."

The Inst.i.tute's buildings, constructed of stone, would not burn, but the roofs were wood. They would pour oil across them and set the oil afire. Whether the wood caught or not was unimportant. The oil itself would produce magnificent flames as it burned, and the burning tower would be visible across the city. The alarm would be raised, the flames would frighten the population, and they would panic. Guards would be drawn off the wall, descending upon the school to fight the blaze.

As Beliel and three of his soldiers entered the tower, Adryel and the other five pulled cloaks around their bodies. She knew the city well and, once the alarm sounded, she would lead them through the back streets to the north gate. With the reduced guard and confusion in the city, they would be able to dash through the streets, overpower the remaining guards, and open the gate wide. Maliel would be waiting with an entire company of Beliel's recruits. They would take control of the gatehouse, and the army would be free to enter. With surprise on their side, and panic in the streets, they would control the city before dawn.

It ought to work.

Adryel squinted as she watched Beliel working on the roof. She was barely able to make out his silhouette against the unusually dark sky. She paid the darkness no mind-it was to their advantage, after all. Instead she focused all of her attention on Beliel. She doubted others could see him as he went about pouring the oil, unless they were expecting him to be there, as she was. No, no one else would be watching.

After several minutes, she noticed Beliel step to the edge and wave his arms wildly, signaling that they were finished. She could just make out the others hurrying away, leaving Beliel to set the fire, which he was to ignite at midnight, as the last candles went out.

The army would move out as the first lights in the palace's tower were extinguished, and Maliel would lead a small group dashing across the plain to seize control of the entrance. Adryel's group would reach the gate just as Maliel's troops arrived, giving the defenders no chance to regroup.

She was certain of their success-their moves had been well practiced. Before they marched on the city, while they were in the mountains, they had rehea.r.s.ed again and again, marking off the distance between the Inst.i.tute and the gate, filling the route with soldiers to represent the crowds who would have been awakened by the blaze, making certain they knew how long it would take them to reach the gate.

Adryel finally allowed her gaze to travel right, toward the palace. She caught her breath. Everything was dark. The candles had been extinguished already. Were they late? Had she missed the ceremony? Surely she had not been that focused on Beliel's activities on the roof. . .

She looked around wildly. No lights were visible in any of the buildings that poked above the walls of the Inst.i.tute. Why had she not noticed this before?

Adryel ran to the Inst.i.tute's gate and peeked through a crack in the boards that covered the opening. The entire city appeared to be cast in total darkness, except. . .

She wheeled around. Their fire seemed to be the only light visible in the city, making them a target. If someone had noticed it, though, soldiers would have been summoned. But none had come. They had been lucky. Again.

She hesitated. What would happen if they opened the north gate and Maliel was not there to fight off the guards? What if they were late, and the guards spotted Maliel's squad waiting outside? Early better than late, she decided. They were armed with knives-while they could not hold off a sustained attack, she could cut a guard's throat, and she felt certain Beliel and his friends could account for themselves. "They would likely enjoy it," she sniffed.

As she looked back at Beliel, waiting on the roof, she heard the crier calling the hour.

"Midnight. Midnight." His voice floated across the city.

She smiled and stepped in front of their small fire so that Beliel could see her. She raised both arms over her head, the signal to torch the building.

"Burn," she whispered. "Burn."

Beliel bent, struck a flint against a rock, and sparks landed at the edge of the tower's roof. From the ground, Adryel could see them flare as they struck the oil. Beliel dropped to the next level and sent sparks flying across the roof of the Commons. Then he dashed for the ground.

She watched as the flames crept across the roof. Then, with a sound like the rush of wind, they erupted, engulfing the entire tower, flames shooting high into the air.

As Beliel reached the ground and donned his cloak, the roof of the Commons caught fire, sending flames ten meters high. Sparks mingled with the flames, and, caught up by wind, they dropped onto nearby buildings, igniting them too. Quicker than Adryel had thought possible, the entire Inst.i.tute was on fire and the blaze was spreading beyond its walls. The entire city could go up.

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

The fire bells at the palace and the north gate rang wildly. Voices in the street called out, "Fire! Fire!" and screams were heard from those in nearby buildings.

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

It was time to act. "Let's go," Adryel called as she led the others to the door through which they had entered. As they dashed down the alley and reached the square in front of the Inst.i.tute, guards began to converge at the Inst.i.tute's front gate. The group clung to the wall to avoid exposure as they advanced down the street, away from the fire.

Angels were pouring out of the nearby buildings, some congregating in the street, some trying to escape, pushing and shoving as they rushed away from the burning structures. Children were crying and angels were screaming.

"The Inst.i.tute is burning!"

"It's spreading. We'll all be killed."

"Help us, help us."

An older angel was knocked to the ground in front of Adryel. She stopped, intending to pick her up, but then stepped over her instead, not looking back. The rules had changed, she reminded herself. She pushed past the panicked angels and rushed away, toward the north gate.

Eager to avoid detection and needing to circ.u.mvent the mob that was beginning to form, Adryel led her small group along the darkened side streets. She pulled her hood back so she could see where she was going. It no longer mattered if she was recognized.

As they reached an intersection and turned right, her house loomed ahead. Like the others, it was dark. She scowled. What did it matter if it burned to the ground? It meant nothing without Ramael. She glanced toward the house again as she pa.s.sed. It wasn't completely dark, after all-a faint light flickered in one window. Someone was living in her house. So what? She shrugged. Let them burn too.

They stopped at a nearby wall, and Adryel addressed her group.

"When we turn this corner, the gate will be ahead, on the right, about a block." She drew her knife from its sheath. "There should be only a couple of guards, given the time and the fire."

As she spoke, a sound like thunder came from behind them. She turned to see the tower collapsing into the building beside it, sparks raining down on roofs throughout the student quarter of the city. It mattered not. She turned back to the group.

"Beliel, you open the gate. Maliel should be waiting." She looked at the others. "Kill the guards."

Then Adryel peered around the corner.

"Go." She waved her arm. "Go."

They rushed the gate, all arriving at the same time. Five guards whirled around to meet them. Adryel's heart was pounding hard and she felt a surge of excitement as she threw herself at the closest one, pulling the blade of her knife across his throat, imagining him to be Michael.

"Halt!"

She heard the command just as something hard struck her across the back of her head.

Gadriel and Michael heard shouting below the wall. Turning, they found a squad of soldiers had cornered a group of angels in purple robes. A guard lay on the ground, his throat cut. One of the purple robes was down too.

They began pulling the hoods away from the prisoners' faces. "It's Beliel," Gadriel gasped. "Rebels," he shouted. "Take them into the guard house, and chain them to the wall."

"What about this one?" A guard turned the purple-robed figure over on her back.

It was Adryel. Gadriel stiffened-at one time she had been his friend. "Her too. All of them. Lock them away." He turned away.

Michael gave him a moment, then reached out to touch Gadriel's shoulder.

He looked up, took a deep breath. "They probably set the fire," he told Michael. "As a distraction."

As Michael nodded, they heard a disturbance near the gate, metal striking metal, screams of pain, the neighing of a horse. He whipped around, straining to see what was happening.

"Rebels are attacking," came the cry from the darkness. "Rebels at the gates."

"Wheel left. . .There they are. Forward. . .Attack." Commands rang out from below.

"I need to go, Lord Michael. What are the orders for battle?"

Michael gave a deep sigh. "Give no quarter. Kill them. Kill them all."

Gadriel nodded. Then he spread his wings and floated to the ground. Michael heard him rallying his troops, relaying his orders.

"Gruel, support the left flank," Gadriel called to one of his lieutenants. "Move out. Everyone, we're under attack. . .Lord Michael's orders," he shouted above the confusion. "Kill the rebels. Kill them all. No prisoners."

Michael stood quietly for several moments, his hands folded, listening to the fighting below. Then he stretched his arms out to his sides, the palm of one hand facing east, the other west. Rays of light shot forth from each hand, a kilometer in each direction, stretching to the ends of the north wall. He raised his hands above his head. The light followed, forming an arc around the gate, reaching high into the sky, far beyond the clouds. He dropped his arms, pointing north, across the plain, and the light surged forward, a solid sheet, turning the darkness of night into the light of day.