Fallen Angel

Chapter 33.1

They were running out of time. The baby could come any day now, but Joan was no closer to getting Michael out of his prison. She tried to break into the room with the crystal case, but it was impossible. Whatever lock Morpheus had put on the door was a damn good one.
And even if she could get Michael out, how were they supposed to get out of the Dream Realm on their own? If, by some miracle, they could get away from the palace without the slaves or Morpheus discovering them, they would still have to fend off the Blood Countess. That witch skulked at the borders of the Dream Realm on Lucifer's orders, making sure nothing came in and nothing went out.
Michael was undoubtedly weakened from his imprisonment, and Joan was too far in her pregnancy to fight her way out. There was only one thing she could think of that wouldn't end in bloodshed. But it all depended on her conversation with a certain Lord of Dreams. She waited impatiently near the Dream Chamber and cornered him the moment he set foot out of the room.

"Kyrios, how fortunate I meet you here. Do you have a moment?"

He froze, clearly not expecting her in this corridor. His eyes darted to the open door of the Chamber, and it shut, as if pulled closed by magic.

"Certainly," he said then, pretending not to be sweating like a pig. "Are you well?"

"No, I'm not. I know you've somehow manipulated time to move along my pregnancy, so I'm just going to cut right to it; let Michael go."

"W-Wha—How?" If Morpheus's eyes had widened any further, his eyeballs would've popped out.

"Michael is the Lord Protector of the Vale; we can always tell if he's near."

It was an easy lie to tell. There was no reason Morpheus would suspect otherwise, after all. How would he know how the connection between angels worked? The Lord of Dreams overcame the first shock and directed his attention to the two slaves standing behind Joan. His eyes bulged, and he yelled at them, "You two! You told her where to find the Lord Protector, didn't you? Stupid fools! You have damned us all to Hell!"

Ragazzino cowered against Leonora, who held him protectively in her arms but kept her ground. They had followed Joan when she told them of her intent, but they hadn't dared to step closer when Joan confronted their jailor.

"They had nothing to do with it," said Joan. "I just told you how I found out. You should know better than to underestimate the power of the angels. Now, let Michael go."

Morpheus scoffed and jeered. "Oh, you've got some nerve, girl. You think you can just walk up to me and order me around in my own palace? Who do you think you are? I am Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams and Nightmares! I am the ruler of this land, not you, and certainly not your God!"

"And what of Lucifer? Because from where I'm standing, you're acting more like his bitch than his partner."

"How dare y—?"

"You're a puppet on a string!" yelled Joan. "The sooner you realise that, the sooner you can reclaim what's rightfully yours!"

She met Morpheus's furious glare head-on. She hoped she'd played on fear and pride enough to get him to do the right thing.

"Lucifer and Samael have made your home a secret hidey-hole for them to keep their valuables," she continued. "Me, Michael... I'm fairly certain that there are more like us here. The Devil gives you the illusion of being in control by letting you be our warden and by letting you mark most of us as a prize. But you are as much a prisoner as we are. They tell you what to do, bring a demon-witch in to guard your borders, threaten your very existence even... This is your Realm, not theirs. But hey, if you want to keep bending over and getting screwed by them, be my guest."