The church was lost in darkness. Rainwater dripped into puddles in the nave. The sound echoed eerily around the building. Somewhere close by, a stone crashed onto the floor, stopping William’s heart for a second. He froze in terror as a violent gust of wind blew open the great West Door. The icy wind rushed up the nave, and there was a thunderous sound of falling planks, clattering and thudding onto the floor at the east end of the church. The terrified screams of the monks sent the blood pounding through William’s body. Someone collided with him, almost knocking him over. He heard the desperate scrabble of feet on rubble as more of the monks ran past him, heading for the south door. He was shoved roughly aside and stumbled against a pillar. He decided it was safer to stay there until the escaping monks were out of the way.
The wind whipped between the pillars and slammed the south door shut with a crash that seemed to make the whole building shudder. William crouched by the pillar, half expecting the aisle roof to come down on his head. There were shrieks of terror as the monks tried to open the door, but they were driven back by the savage wind. Someone stumbled against William.
“Who’s that?” a frightened voice called.
“It’s me, William.”
“Open the door, boy, quickly!” It was Brother Gabriel. He pushed William into the aisle. “Go on, hurry!”
William elbowed his way through the knot of monks by the door and felt for the latch. With a howl, the wind caught him and sent him sprawling. He landed heavily and hit his head on the floor. Tiny points of light sparked behind his eyes. A wave of dizziness left him feeling sick, but he forced himself to crawl back to the door. He had no idea what had happened to the monks, but the doorway was clear. Slowly, he got to his knees and reached for the latch. Desperately, his fingers slipping on the bitterly cold iron, he tried to lift it. The wind threw itself at him like a frenzied dog, and William fell sideways. He tried again, reaching up for the latch, and again, the wind tossed him aside.
William slumped on the floor, his back against the wall. The demon isn’t going to let us go, he thought in despair. Forcing himself to move, William crawled toward the door once more, keeping as close to the wall as he could. He had to keep trying. He reached the door and slowly slid his fingers up the wood, edging his way toward the latch. An ear-splitting crash reverberated around the church. William flinched and closed his eyes. It was a couple of moments before he realized the sound had come from the chancel. Someone started to scream in pain, then more stone thundered down and the screaming stopped. Heart pounding, William seized his chance and made a desperate grab for the latch. He pushed it up and rolled aside as the heavy door swung open.
“Quickly!” he shouted. “Get out of the church!”
There was a scurry of movement as the monks closest to the doorway made a run for the cloister alley. William scrambled after them. “Into the warming room!” he shouted above the angry howl of the wind. “It’s the safest place!”
Like a flock of terrified sheep, the monks jostled and pushed their way into the small chamber. William followed, with Shadlok close behind him. The fay closed and barred the door. In the lantern light, William could see that Shadlok’s face was bruised and bloodied from a cut above one eye, and there was blood in his hair. William looked at the monks. Not one of them had escaped unscathed. Their habits were soaked through, torn and streaked with mortar dust. Their faces and hands were battered and bleeding. Brother Mark’s broken arm and ribs were giving him a lot of pain, to judge by the agonized look on his face. Peter huddled silently in a corner of the room, eyes wide with shock. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth, and he wiped at it with shaking fingers. William felt a cold twist of fear in his chest as he realized that Brother Snail was not here. There were others missing, too.
“Brother Snail is still in the church,” he said, turning to Shadlok, “so are Brother Odo and the prior.”
“There is nothing we can do for them now,” the fay said bleakly. He wrapped his arms around his body and stared without seeing into the shadows.
Brother Gabriel started to pray. One by one, the rest of the monks picked up the Latin words. Even Brother Martin mumbled along, though he managed to make the holy words sound like curses. None of them could see the hob, sitting near the door, a miserable bundle of ruffled fur. William sat down beside him, his back against the wall, and the hob shuffled across to lean against him. William felt the small body shiver. Keeping a wary eye on the monks, he put his arm around the hob to try and warm him, but the monks were too lost in their misery to notice.
Was Brother Snail still alive? William felt sick with fear for the monk, but Shadlok was right: There was nothing anybody could do to help Brother Snail, or the prior and Brother Odo. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall and tried not to think about what might be happening to them.
Shadlok remained on his feet, his back to the door. Glancing up at him, William saw the tense set of the fay’s face and the distant look in his eyes. Wherever Shadlok’s thoughts were, they weren’t in the warming room.
Gradually, the exhausted monks fell asleep, propped against the wall or curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace.
William slept fitfully. When he woke at dawn, the monks and Peter were still asleep, but Shadlok and the hob had gone. William left the warming room and closed the door quietly behind him. He stood in the alley and looked around.
The wind had blown itself out during the night, and the misty gray morning was still and silent. The cloister garth was littered with broken branches and last autumn’s dead leaves, scoured out from hidden corners. Several branches had snapped off the old walnut tree. Rainwater flooded the herb beds, turning them into small ponds. It would take a full day’s work to clear it all up.
William saw that the south door of the church was ajar. He walked slowly toward it and peered cautiously around the edge. It seemed peaceful enough inside the building. He could hear voices somewhere over toward the chancel. He jumped when a figure loomed out of the gloom. To his delight, he saw that it was Brother Snail, bruised and cut, but still alive.
“You’re safe!” William grabbed the monk in a tight hug.
The monk patted William’s back. “It’s good to see you, too, Will, but perhaps you could let me go now?”
William blushed and released the monk. “I’m sorry, it’s just . . .”
Brother Snail put a hand on his arm and nodded. “I know.”
“Most of the monks are in the warming room. None of them are badly injured,” William said.
“I am relieved to hear it,” the monk said quietly. “Brother Odo was not so fortunate.”
“Is he badly hurt?”
“He’s dead. Part of the chancel wall collapsed on him.”
William felt a stab of pity for the old monk. What a terrible way to die. “What about Prior Ardo?”
“His arm is broken and he has some deep cuts, but he will live.” Brother Snail sat on the stone bench in the cloister alley, exhausted and drained. “Forgive me, Will, I need to rest for a moment.”
William looked down at the monk. His pitifully small body was hunched forward and his thin hands rested in his lap. There was a large bruise on the side of his face and cuts on his tonsured head. He needed much more than a moment’s rest, William thought anxiously.
“I’ll fetch you some warmed beer,” William said, but Brother Snail shook his head.
“Time enough for that later, Will. Your help is needed in the church. I will go to the warming room. There’ll be cuts to clean and salve.” He raised his arm. “Help me up, please.”
William steadied the monk as he rose slowly to his feet. “Someone else can see to them; you should go and lie down.”
Brother Snail smiled briefly. “I will rest later. Hurry along now. The prior has need of you. Oh, and I sent the hob back to the workshop. He told me what happened there last night, and he is going to see what can be salvaged.”
With deep misgivings, William stood aside and watched Brother Snail shuffle away. The monk struggled to put one foot in front of another. The night in the church had cost him dearly, but at least he had survived, and for that, William was deeply grateful.
William was horrified by the state of the church. All the recent hard work of the stonemasons and the carpenters had been undone in a frenzy of destruction. Boarded-up windows were once more open to the raw morning light. Rubble and timbers littered the floor of the nave and chancel. Puddles reflected the sky like the shattered pieces of a vast mirror. William looked up at the paintings on the walls, and his heart seemed to miss a beat. The faces of the saints and angels had gone, leaving patches of bare stone above rain-streaked but otherwise untouched bodies. It looked as if they had been gouged from the plaster with something sharp. He shivered and looked away, sickened by the lingering feeling of hatred that poisoned the air in the ruined church.
Another stretch of the chancel wall had come down. William could see Shadlok and Prior Ardo pulling stones from a large heap of rubble. The prior moved awkwardly, his broken arm held tightly to his chest. His face twisted with pain as he slowly reached for a stone. He crouched there for a moment, eyes closed and breathing through his open mouth, before throwing the stone aside.
“Over here, boy, we need your help,” he called when he noticed William. His voice sounded tired and small.
William stared at the rubble. Somewhere under the stones lay Brother Odo. He pushed aside all thought of what they were going to find and set to work.
Nobody said a word when at last a foot in a scuffed old boot was uncovered. As William quickly pulled smaller pieces of rubble aside, he felt a stir of cold air against his face. Just for a moment, he thought he heard the rustle of wings. A small red feather floated down to rest on the rubble by William’s feet, several shades darker than the monk’s blood staining the stones around it. A draft lifted the feather and sent it tumbling away. William glanced at the gaping hole in the roof. The demon was up there, and it wanted him to know that it was watching.