CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX

 

 

When William reached the trackway, Shadlok was waiting for him. He had slung Master Bone’s body over the back of his horse, and stood holding the reins of all three horses. Snowflakes dusted Master Bone’s cloak.

“Are we still going to Weforde?” William asked.

“No. We will take Bone’s body back to the abbey,” Shadlok replied, handing him Matilda’s reins. “I am sure the monks will not begrudge him burial.”

They walked along without talking for a while. William could see Shadlok’s face in the dusk and something in the set of the fay’s jaw told him he would be wise to keep silent, but there were things he needed to ask.

“How did you know the angel could overturn the Dark King’s curse?”

Shadlok glared at him. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“I helped you tonight. You owe me an explanation.”

The fay sighed heavily. “There are tales amongst the fay of creatures who pass freely amongst the stars, who were already ancient when this world was new. They have the dust of creation on their feet.” He turned to look at William. “They have many names. Angel is but one of them. They have the power over life and death itself, so it is said. They are the only creatures other than the Creator who could undo the Dark King’s curse of eternal life on Jacobus Bone. For many centuries Bone and I searched for them in vain. We finally came across a book in an abbey in France eighty-two winters ago, with pictures of the death of just such a creature, but we knew it could not die. We set out to find its grave and our journey brought us to Crowfield Abbey. The rest of the story you know.”

William shivered. What if Shadlok and Master Bone had not discovered the book in the French abbey? Would the angel have lain in the earth until Judgment Day? There were so many questions and no answers, just mysteries wrapped inside puzzles, like the layers of an onion, one inside another.

“What about Brother Snail?” William asked at last.

“The monk is unharmed,” Shadlok said.

“So he’ll wake up now?”

Shadlok’s eyes narrowed. “You doubt me?”

William shrugged.

The fay stared ahead, his eyes as cold as the snow whirling past his face.

William was uncomfortably aware that he had managed to insult Shadlok. They continued on their way in silence.

There was one last thing William still wanted to know. It had been troubling him since their visit to Dame Alys’s house. “What was the thing in the bird-mask that I saw yesterday?” he asked.

Shadlok glanced at him. “I believe it was one of the old gods of this land.”

“A god?” William said in surprise. “But there’s only one, isn’t there?”

“There is only one Creator,” Shadlok said, nodding, “but there are many others who have been worshipped as gods, and the thing you saw in the hut is one of them. It inhabited a sacred grove of trees that was cared for by the woman’s ancestors. It seems she has not turned her back on the old ways, as so many others have.”

“But what is it? Is it a fay, or a demon?” William persisted. “A ghost, perhaps?”

There was an odd glitter in Shadlok’s eyes as he turned to look at William. “It is an angel.”

William stared at Shadlok. “An angel ? It can’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Because it was evil,” William said.

“Like fays and humans, there are dark and light angels. I believe the angel you saw in the woman’s house is a creature of the darkness. The angel we freed from its grave was sent here to hunt it down.”

“That was why Dame Alys never told anyone about the angel,” William said, suddenly understanding. “She must have known it wasn’t really dead and she didn’t want anyone to find it, because it would come after her angel.”

Shadlok nodded. “Exactly, and she could not allow that to happen. A word of warning: The woman and the angel she serves are drawn to those whose hearts are good, people like you. Turning you from the Creator would matter more to them than you could ever imagine. Stay away from Dame Alys from now on.”

William bowed his head. He just hoped she would stay away from him.

Shadlok touched William’s arm and pointed toward a stand of birch trees a little way ahead. The thin white trunks were pale stripes against the dark woods. William couldn’t see anything to explain the fay’s sudden wariness.

“What?” William said, frowning. “There’s nothing there.”

“Look again,” Shadlok said softly. He drew his sword and handed the reins of the two horses to William. “Stay behind me.”

Peering through the snow, William thought he glimpsed something green move between the trees. Shadlok walked slowly along the track, sword at the ready, until he reached the birches, and then he stopped. William heard him say something, but the wind carried the words away.

The horses started to pull at their reins. Matilda whinnied and jerked her head back. The other two danced nervously, eyes rolling and nostrils flaring as fear infected them. William turned his back on Shadlok as he struggled to control the horses.

“Steady!” he said, trying to stroke Matilda’s neck, but she was beyond listening to him.

William looked over his shoulder. All he could see of Shadlok was his white hair. In front of him was a blur of green. Was it the Dark King? he wondered anxiously. Had he come to kill Shadlok?

William felt powerless. He couldn’t help Shad-lok, and unless he let go of the horses’ reins and made a run for it, he couldn’t help himself, either.

“Hush, Tildy,” he said, desperately trying to calm the horse. The other two tugged at their reins and he had to wrap the thin leather strips around his wrists to stop them slipping out of his grip. He kept a wary eye on the pawing hooves.

Something touched William’s shoulder and he turned, half expecting to find a sword blade pointing at his throat. To his surprise, he saw Shadlok standing in front of him, his face tense, his eyes narrowed to icy slits.

“Give me the reins,” the fay said.

William did as he was told. He looked at the stand of birch trees. The patch of green had gone. “Was that the king?” he asked anxiously.

Shadlok nodded. He whispered something to the three nervous horses, stroking their muzzles and patting their necks. William was astonished to see their ears prick forward as they listened to him. They grew calmer, and Matilda nuzzled his shoulder gently.

“He came to tell me that I will be allowed to live for now, and to warn you that he will not forget your part in what happened today.”

William felt sick. How was that fair? “But I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“That means nothing to him,” Shadlok said scornfully. “The king is cunning and his memory is long, human. Keep your eyes open and your wits about you at all times. He will come for you when you least expect it.”

William gave Matilda’s reins a tug and put his head down against the driving snow. Sick dread churned in his stomach. Was Shadlok right? Would the Dark King really come after him, simply because he’d been forced to help dig up the angel? William urged Matilda on. He wouldn’t be happy until he was safely inside the abbey walls.