Free Angel Dust by Sarah Mussi Page B

normal tissue. But dare I?
    I held my breath. If I was caught doing miracles, I’d probably have my wings stripped, be cast out of Heaven and sent to do five hundred years’ Community Service in Purgatorium.
    I didn’t dare. Not a full miracle anyway, but I could do a Healing Hands Blessing. It would certainly speed up his recovery a bit.
    I extended my hands over his heart and lightly touched his wounds. I let the power flow through me and whispered a full consecration. Immediately his breathing eased.
    Then I just sat there perched on the end of his bed, nervously twiddling with a loose wing feather. He wasn’t going to like the repentance thing. I knew it. I was going to have to be very careful. Timing was everything.
    And right now was definitely not the right time.
    I left the hospital. I’d got no idea what to do next. It was already late afternoon, and I’d been away from Heaven for nearly twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours. Now there were only nine days left till Halloween.
    With a troubled heart, I set out for the long journey up to Heaven, for the Pearly Gates and home.
    But the minute I’d climbed the Staircase and got through the last Pearly, I knew something was wrong. Very wrong.
    Firstly a strange new scent wafted on the evening air. It was faint at first and hard to place, but as soon as I passed through the Jasper Arch and on to the Golden Promenade, I knew what it was: the odour of diesel engines, of boot polish and cold metal. The smell of God’s Army.
    Then I heard the sirens. They were coming from the three northern Gates. I stopped and listened. I sharpened my gaze. Something seared across the sky. Thunderbolts
.
God’s Army are never allowed to use thunderbolts, unless we’re under direct attack from Hell. Sirens and thunderbolts. Saints above, we must already be on Code Amber.
    Quickly I looked around for a newspaper. Usually they’re everywhere. But today no cherub flitted by with copies tucked under an arm. I threw a coin into a fountain by the huge pieta in the Virgin Mary Square, and I made a wish. But no paper plopped into my hand.
    Where was everyone? The best I could get was a half-torn copy of the
Daily Trumpet
, a terrible publication produced by the Saved. The headlines read: GOD’S ARMY FIGHT BACK and WE’LL THRASH LUCY WITH CODE AMBER and SATAN’S CHALLENGE SPECIAL ISSUE – FULL STORY STRAIGHT FROM HELL.
    I sighed. Half the stuff printed in the
Trumpet
was rubbish. If only I could get a copy of the
Celestial Herald
. Hastily I hurried through side streets to the Cloisters. Somebody was bound to have one there.
    Over the cobbles I sped, until I reached the main arch to the entrance. Then I barged through the huge doors, slamming them behind me. The place seemed completely empty. I couldn’t even hear any singing.
    â€˜Hello? Anyone there?’
    The ambulatory was deserted. My friend Celandine’s cell was locked. I hammered on her door just in case she was resting. Nothing. From far away I heard a murmuring. Had everyone gone to Devotions? Already?
    I raced down the corridors and round the quadrangle to my cell. I let myself in, and bolted the door behind me. When I was safely inside I went all shivery
. We were on Code Amber. God’s Army was bombing the Abyss.
I shook my head. I didn’t understand.
    Why couldn’t God just meet up with the Devil? Weren’t they once friends? Maybe if they both said sorry then the Devil could stop being so angry. I couldn’t see how a terror campaign was going to help anything. Plus God’s Army scare me, more than Satan. I probably shouldn’t say that – after all I’ve never met Satan, so I don’t know what he’s capable of.
    Inside my cell I tried to calm down. I put on music. I put on fairy lights. I lit some incense. But it was no good, I was so jumpy. Why had we escalated to Code Amber so quickly? Were we about to be overrun with demons? I