The ball struck where Barnaby's shoulder blades would have been, and the reflexive jerk of his wings turned his glide into a barely-controlled flurry of movement. He gave an exclamation of disgust as he saw who he was careening into, and only just saved himself from crashing into the Messenger.

Barnaby landed with an inelegant clatter of gravel some yards away, skinning his elbows as if he was a seven year old learning to ride a bicycle. By some miracle, he hadn't dropped his gun. He fired twice in quick succession in Gabriel's direction before scrambling up and running full-out towards the trees.