The Crowfield Demon

by Pat Walsh

  “Shadlok, wake up,” he said, shaking the fay by the shoulder. “Please, wake up now.”

  A dark reflection moved across the puddle, and William’s head jerked up. The demon had glided silently into the air above them, its wings spread wide. It held a large ashlar block in its hands.

  In panic, William grabbed Shadlok’s arm and hauled him aside. The block crashed onto the nave floor and splintered into deadly shards.

  “You have to get up,” William said urgently, pulling at Shadlok’s arm. He darted a quick look upward. The demon still hovered overhead, watching them with a look of such malevolence that William’s blood ran cold. In that moment he knew they were on their own. There was no angel coming to rescue them. He threw the crumpled feather aside. It landed in a puddle and floated in slow circles on the gray water.

  Shadlok stirred and opened his eyes. He looked dazed and put a hand to his forehead. With William’s help, he struggled to his feet. Together, they stumbled toward the shelter of the south aisle. Shadlok leaned against the wall and closed his eyes for a few moments. He was in pain and William watched him anxiously.

  “Thank you,” Shadlok whispered at last, putting a hand on William’s shoulder and gripping it tightly. “Where is the demon now?”

  “It’s high above the nave,” William said. He wondered why it hadn’t come after them, but then thought that it was probably in no hurry. They couldn’t escape from it. Sooner or later it would kill Shadlok, and then there would be nothing to stop it from taking William’s soul.

  “And my sword?” Shadlok asked.

  William nodded to the nave floor. “Over there.”

  Shadlok pushed himself away from the wall. “Then this is the end, but I will not die hiding in a corner.” He walked over to his sword and picked it up, then glanced back at William and smiled briefly. “Stay alive, human.”

  William wrapped his arms tightly around his body and blinked away the hot tears that were filling his eyes. He thought of the angel and bitterness welled up inside him. He put his head back and yelled in rage and frustration, “Why didn’t you come back?”

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The demon swooped down and landed lightly in front of Shadlok. It towered above him, its wings spread wide. William wanted to look away but couldn’t. Shadlok faced the demon with his head held high and a sneer on his lips, a warrior to his final breath.

  At first, William thought the light coming down through the hole in the crossing roof was the sun breaking through the rain clouds. It grew steadily brighter until it lit up the walls of the church with a searing brilliance that half blinded him. William’s heart began to race as he thought, I’ve seen that light before! Bright spots danced in front of his eyes and it was several moments before his vision cleared and he saw that there were now three figures in the nave. Shadlok was standing his ground, but the demon had fallen back. Between the demon and the fay stood a warrior angel, a creature of white and silver, surrounded by a shimmering aura of light. It wore a mail shirt and carried a longsword. Its wings were folded across its back, and its blue-shadowed, silver hair hung over its broad shoulders. Against the luminous sheen of its skin, its black eyes were shockingly vivid.

  William’s legs started to tremble, and he fell to his knees. He watched as the angel walked toward the demon, holding the longsword with both hands. The demon’s face twisted with hatred. It drew back a hand and light speared from its fingertips. In one swift movement, the angel leaped into the air and landed lightly behind the demon. In the same instant, the demon whirled around and lunged toward the angel. William saw the flicker of surprise in the demon’s eyes as the longsword slashed across its chest. But instead of blood, the wound bled light. William was shocked to realize that beneath the skin, the demon was not flesh and bone.

  The demon flew up to hang in the air above the nave. Gouts of light trickled from its wound and fell onto the floor, hissing as it spattered into puddles. The angel streaked after it, moving with the speed of a lightning bolt. For a few bewildering moments, they were just a blur of crimson and silver, a whirling mass of brilliant light that sparked and crackled. And then the demon came hurtling to the ground right in front of William.

  The angel was just a breath behind it. The demon was on its feet again in an instant. It lowered its head and lunged at the angel. They twisted together, wings thrashing, until with a snarl of fury the demon sent the angel slamming back against a pillar.

  “I told you this day would come, Sariel,” the demon hissed, gliding across the nave to stand in front of its adversary. “I will destroy you and all those who come after you.”

  The angel’s face was impassive. It lowered its sword. “The Creator will forgive you.”

  This seemed to enrage the demon. It leaned forward so its face was close to the angel’s. “I do not want His forgiveness!”

  “Then what do you want?” The angel’s gaze flickered to William and Shadlok. “Their destruction? Is this what you have become, Raum? One who lurks in the shadows and feeds on death?”

  “Your Creator tells you to serve these . . . abominations,” the demon said softly. “I will never do that! I have lived amongst them and I have seen how worthless they are, less than nothing. I have seen how eager they are to sacrifice the living creatures of their world to me.”

  For a moment, the shadowy shape of the Hunter’s Oak appeared in the crossing behind the demon. William caught a glimpse of the terrible harvest of dead bodies amongst the branches, and then the image faded.

  “You are wrong, Raum,” the angel said. “Some may turn from the light and worship you, but there are many more who stand straight and true, whose souls are pure.”

  The demon’s dark gaze flicked toward William. “Like this one? You are too late, Sariel. His blood is already mine, and his soul will be mine, too. I will take him down into the darkest pit of despair for eternity. It will not matter how brightly his light burns there, for neither you nor the Creator will be able to reach him.”

  William stared into the demon’s eyes in utter horror. What had he ever done to deserve such a fate? He heard Shadlok draw a sharp breath and felt the fay’s hand on his arm.

  The angel drew itself up to its full height, and its eyes blazed down at the demon. “You go too far! I will not allow you to harm this boy.” It turned to William. “Your soul is your own. It is for you alone to choose whether it is to be given to the darkness or to the light.”

  “He has already decided,” Raum sneered. “He gave his blood willingly to set me free.”

  William’s lips stuck to his teeth. He tried to swallow, but his throat was as dry as dust. “Only so we could bind you to the bowl again,” he managed to croak.

  Sariel turned back to the demon. “You have had your answer, Raum. You have failed.”

  With a snarl, the demon flung out a hand and raked blades of light across the angel’s face. Sariel gasped and staggered backward. William flinched and covered his eyes as light flared with painful brilliance from the angel’s wounds. He heard Sariel’s sword clatter away across the floor, followed moments later by the clap of wings and a cry of rage. He opened one eye just the merest crack. The angel and the demon had gone. William blinked to clear the dark shapes floating in front of his eyes. He peered around, and then looked up.

  High above the church, Sariel and Raum whirled and twisted furiously as they fought each other with a savagery that shocked William. The beat of their wings was like thunder rolling across the sky. William watched them, feeling sick with fear. The angel trailed ribbons of light from its wounds, but he couldn’t tell how seriously it was hurt. Slowly, slowly, Raum was weakening the angel, William was sure of it. What if Sariel wasn’t strong enough to defeat the demon?

  Sensing its advantage, the demon dived toward the angel once more, slashing at its body with deadly fury until, finally, the beautiful, shimmering creature came tumbling down onto the tiled floor of the abbey. Light pooled around its body and glistened
in tiny bright droplets on its wings. William stared at it in anguish. Sariel was still alive, but for how much longer?

  The demon lowered itself until it was standing over the angel, a look of triumph on its face.

  “Where is the Creator now, Sariel?” Raum taunted. “For the second time, He has turned his face from you.” The demon leaned forward to stare into the angel’s black eyes. “Join with me! We could be so powerful, you and I. You will no longer need to serve creatures such as these.” It gestured toward William and Shadlok with a look of utter disdain.

  The angel lay still. Its eyes were wide and unblinking. They gave nothing away. William held his breath as he waited to see what the angel would decide to do. Would it be tempted to join with Raum? Would it save itself at the cost of his and Shadlok’s lives?

  Sariel said nothing.

  “You would sacrifice yourself for them?” Raum asked in disbelief. A quiver of rage went through the demon’s body and its lips drew back in a snarl. “A mistake, Sariel, a bad mistake.”

  The demon spread its fingers, pointing them directly at the angel’s face.

  “No!” William croaked. The angel had answered his plea for help. And now, because of him, it would be destroyed. He could not allow that to happen! If he did, then he would be as worthless as the demon believed all humans to be. But what could a mere boy do to overcome the strength of a demon?

  Without stopping to think, William snatched Shadlok’s sword from his hand and, before the fay could stop him, he ran forward, the sword raised above his head. With a yell of fury, he threw himself at the demon and, using the full weight of his body, buried the sword blade up to the hilt in its chest.

  A shower of light spilled out of Raum’s body, drenching the angel beneath him in a radiant stream of blinding beams. With a look of astonishment on its face, the demon fell slowly to its knees, then crumpled sideways and lay with its crimson wings crushed and broken beneath it. It opened its mouth and screamed, a horrifying noise of fury and anguish that left William cowering in terror. Shadlok gasped and hunched forward, his hands covering his ears. The scream tore at the air and echoed around the walls. William felt the floor beneath him shudder. He half expected the church to come thundering down on top of them.

  The terrible sound trailed away and the demon lay still, death already starting to dull its eyes, turning them from black to gray. The angel slowly got to its feet. It drew the sword from the demon’s body, then laid the sword on the floor.

  “It is over,” the angel said. William was surprised to hear the grief in its voice.

  William glanced at the feather, lying crumpled in the puddle, and felt guilty that he had ever doubted the angel would come back. Would it be angry with him for his lack of trust?

  The angel gazed down at him, an expression of such compassion in its eyes that William felt a warm glow spread through his body. The fear and horror of the last few days melted away and he was filled with peace. Beside him, Shadlok bowed his head.

  “We owe you our lives,” the fay said.

  “You owe me nothing.” The angel turned to William. “For the second time, it is you who has saved me. It is I who must thank you.”

  William didn’t know what to say. He felt his chest swell with such pride that he thought it would burst.

  Shadlok looked up at the angel. “Then forgive me, but there is one more thing I would ask of you.” He glanced briefly at William before continuing. “You lifted the curse on Jacobus Bone and allowed him to die. I am asking you now to lift the curse binding me to this human.”

  William was too surprised to say anything. He looked hopefully at the angel.

  “You would still be exiled from your own world,” the angel said.

  “I know, but the boy would be free.”

  “Your fate is bound to the fate of this boy for a reason, far beyond the one the fay king intended,” the angel said gently. “You face a time of darkness, and you will be stronger together than apart. If I break the tie that binds you, I will be doing a great harm to you and the world you live in.”

  “What do you mean?” William asked in dismay, staring up into the angel’s serene face.

  “That is something I cannot tell you.” The angel turned back to Shadlok. “The boy needs you, fay, but you also need him. If you are to come through what lies ahead, you will need to be tied by strong bonds of trust and loyalty, the beginnings of which already exist between you. Your place is at this boy’s side. Do not let him down.”

  There was an unreadable expression on the fay’s face at the angel’s words. “You ask a great deal of us,” he said, “but it seems we have no choice in this.”

  “There is always choice,” the angel said. The dark eyes were full of tenderness as it leaned down and briefly touched William on the forehead. “Walk always in the light.”

  The angel laid a hand on Shadlok’s shoulder. “May you find what you are searching for, fay.”

  The angel leaned down and lifted the demon’s body in its arms. There was a look of infinite sadness on its face as it gazed into the dead eyes of the demon.

  “Will we ever see you again?” William asked. The thought that they might never cross paths again filled him with unexpected pain.

  “We will meet again,” the angel said. It spread its wings wide and rose into the air. White light shimmered over its wings like wildfire, and William shielded his eyes. Then the light faded, and when he looked again, the angel and the demon had gone.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FIVE

  The March twilight settled around them in shades of violet and gray. The cloud of evil that had hung over the abbey for the last few weeks lifted and blew away on the breeze. William was surprised to see that the evening sky had cleared and the first stars were twinkling into life.

  “That was bravely done, human,” Shadlok said, laying a hand on William’s shoulder and nodding in approval. “We owe you our lives. All of us.”

  William felt his cheeks redden with delight at the fay’s praise. He shrugged and said gruffly, “I had to do something.”

  “A good choice of weapon, too,” Shadlok added. “You would not have killed the demon with a human sword.”

  “Are fay weapons magic, then?” William asked.

  Shadlok nodded.

  “Is that why the Dark King’s arrow was able to harm the angel?”

  “The magic in the arrowhead was not quite strong enough to kill it, but for a hundred years, the angel was neither alive nor dead. If the king had used a sword against the angel, then it would surely have died that night.”

  William was quiet for a while, then asked, “What do you think the angel meant about us facing a time of darkness?”

  Shadlok’s mouth drew into a hard line. He picked up his sword and turned it slowly to examine it. A faint bluish glow played over the blade, and it looked as if it had been newly forged. “I am sure we will find out soon enough.”

  William grimaced. “Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than facing the demon.”

  “One thing I have learned, human, is not to go looking for trouble before it comes to find you.”

  “We’re still bound together by the king’s curse,” William said. “Are you angry about that?”

  Shadlok considered this for a moment. “I am . . . disappointed.”

  “If the angel had broken the curse, where would you have gone?”

  There was an odd expression on the fay’s face. “Perhaps I would have stayed here.”

  William snorted. “Ha! I find that very hard to believe.”

  Shadlok looked sideways at him and smiled. “Perhaps I have grown used to living in cold and poverty. Perhaps I actually like it.”

  William grinned. “Now I know you’re lying.”

  “The truth is, I have nowhere else to go,” Shadlok said with a shrug. “I have traveled this world many times over with Bone. I have no wish to do so again by myself.” He regarded William thoughtfully. “But we are still bound together, so when
I leave this place, it will be with you. Until then, I will content myself by turning you into a fine musician. That will be enough of a challenge to keep me occupied for years to come.”

  William raised his eyebrows. “I thought you said I was a quick learner?”

  “Quick enough, for a human,” Shadlok said, but the hint of a smile softened his words. “You will have your new flute in a few days’ time, and then we will continue with your lessons. Be prepared to work hard.” The bruise on the fay’s temple was already fading, along with the blood and dirt in his hair. The stains on his tunic were barely visible now, and somehow his clothes seemed to have dried out.

  How does he do that? William thought in exasperation. I look as if I’ve been dragged along a ditch, twice, and he looks as if he’s been sitting quietly somewhere, clean and dry.

  William spotted the feather in the puddle and went over to pick it up. Perhaps it was only a pigeon’s feather after all, but to him it would always be the angel’s feather. He wiped it on his tunic and carefully smoothed it out.

  “What is that?” Shadlok asked, glancing at it curiously.

  William held it up.

  “A feather? What do you want with that?”

  “The angel gave it to me,” William said, “back in Sir Robert’s garden, when I asked it to come and help us.”

  “Oh, so it answered your prayers, but not the monks’?” Shadlok said drily. “I would not mention that to Prior Ardo if I were you.”

  William put the feather into his belt. “I’m not that eager for another beating, but we should let everyone at Bethlehem know that the demon has gone.”

  “We will go there now,” Shadlok said. “It will be dark soon, but I think there will be no danger for us in the forest tonight.”

  “I’ll go and find the hob,” William said, “and tell him what’s happened. I’ll meet you by the gatehouse.”

  The hob greeted William’s news with delight. He capered about Mary Magdalene’s pen, kicking up the straw and singing, “Gone! Gone! Gonegonegone, all gone!”