Matt gawked at the sight before him. His father’s actions had stunned him. The same question thundered in his head, clashing with his fears for those trapped inside the sinking cottage.
How could a Guardian create such a powerful animation?
‘Margaret!’ Solon shouted in horror. He scrambled towards the swamp, but stopped hopelessly at the gaping hole. ‘Margaret!’
‘Touching,’ Malcolm shrugged, ‘but a waste of time. They will be safe if you do as I ask. We’ll take the path through the forest to the monastery.’
Matt’s feet were moving against his will towards the path. Solon followed wordlessly.
They reached the buildings in minutes. Without pausing, Malcolm walked past the sleeping monks and straight into the chapel. Matt realized that his father was heading for the rear of the altar.
Lifting a flaming torch from a nearby holder, Malcolm held open the door to the catacombs.
‘In you go,’ he said, and pushed the boys down the narrow slippery stone steps in front of him. ‘Lead the way, Solon.’
It took a few minutes to adjust to the smell of rotting vegetation and stagnant water. Matt used the nauseating odour to help him lock his thoughts away from his dad. He noticed that Solon was clenching his teeth, his jaw muscle flexing as he blocked Malcolm too.
The darkness was heavy with dampness and dread, both of which pressed down on Matt’s shoulders as they slogged along tunnels flooded with water from Jeannie’s wave.
They entered the burial chamber of the monastery’s saints and martyrs. Several sleeping forms were lined up beside the damp walls; others lay next to sarcophagi or on top of tombs. All were asleep in deep inspirited comas, Matt was relieved to see, and breathing comfortably.
‘Where is my master?’ said Solon, checking beneath the cowls of his nearby sleeping comrades.
‘Not here,’ said Malcolm, moving on. ‘I will take you to him, never fear. And then you will do something for me.’
The further they trudged, the deeper they seemed to be going. The tunnel ceiling was so low now that Malcolm could no longer stand up straight. Matt could feel his chest tightening at the sense of claustrophobia.
‘Where are you taking us?’ Solon demanded as they walked on.
Matt’s stomach clenched. He thought all the monks would know these tunnels. If Solon didn’t know where Malcolm was taking them, then they were really lost.