The conversation carried on, getting more horrific with each imagined detail until some of Ironbeak’s fighters decided that conquering the redstone house was not such a good idea.

“Did you see Mangiz today? He was badly knocked about.”

“Yagg! Do you think the ghosts had something to do with it?”

*   *   *

Ambrose Spike threw a careless pawful of hotroot into the simmering watershrimp soup.

John Churchmouse glared at the hedgehog over the top of his steamed-up glasses. “Ambrose, the recipe says half a spoon of hotroot. Why didn’t you measure it?”

The old hedgehog bustled John to one side. “Don’t tell me how to make shrimp and hotroot soup. I learned my recipe from otters. A pawful, that’s what you need. Let’s see if that roseleaf and cowslip custard is ready.”

“Don’t you dare touch my custard, you rough-pawed cellar keeper. It’ll be ruined if you open that oven too soon. Come away.”

Ambrose could not get past John to open the oven. He snorted and began furiously kneading nuts into a batch of honeysuckle scones. John tugged his whiskers in despair.

“Honeysuckle scones have a delicate flavour all of their own. Sister Agnes’s recipe calls for beechnuts, but you’ve put acorns and hazelnuts in. Where did those beechnuts I shelled go to?”

Ambrose wrinkled his snout and kneaded faster. “Oh, those. I ate ’em. There was only a few. I’m very partial to a beechnut now and again.”

John clapped a paw to his brow. “You didn’t wash your paws. The whole batch will taste of hotroot!”

Ambrose grinned wickedly. “So what? Ginger ’em up a bit. Give them more blackberry wine to drink and they won’t notice the difference. Come on, quill-pusher, get those onions peeled.”

John flung down his oven cloth. “Peel them yourself, barrel-minder!”

*   *   *

Late that night a breeze sprang up. Clouds scudded across the moon, sending shifting patterns over the Abbey floor beneath Ironbeak and Mangiz. The Methuselah and Matthias bells rang briefly, stopping abruptly to leave an eerie silence in their wake.

“How can the bells toll when we have the earthcrawlers trapped in that room below?” Mangiz murmured to Ironbeak.

“Kagga! Hold your beak,” Ironbeak silenced him. “I don’t know how they rang the bells and I don’t care. It might be a diversion to stop us watching here. Keep your eyes on the floor below, over by the big door.”

They waited and watched.

So did the rooks from the dormitory, who had sneaked out on to the far corner of the galleries. Curiosity had overcome their General’s command to stay in the dormitory. They had to see for themselves.

*   *   *

The main Abbey door creaked on its hinges, slowly opening.