Upon picking their way through the caves and arriving back at the gardens, Henry, Irene, Aisling, Zachary, Flora and Percy came upon a teeming exodus of hundreds of squeaking rats.

The air was filled with their cries of panic. The rodents tried to escape the garden through the walls of thorns, or got speared on the jagged tips as they tried.

When they entered the garden, the workers saw the witch’s cat thrashing this way and that, snatching rats from the pathways and snuffing out their lives with a flash of teeth and claws, using the same uncanny speed they had seen before. The garden became emptied of invading life, and the rats’ retreating shrieks faded down the echoing tunnels.

The cat gave the miners another knowing, haughty look, and then hopped up on to the altar in the garden. The vicious red nettles folded away from the child who lay among its roots, and the cat curled up on her chest.

Henry and the workers of The Righteous Anglian Mining Company of Our Lady’s Hallowed Earth approached and saw the girl awake and smiling, albeit weakly, at their approach.

‘I think things will be okay now,’ the girl in the roots whispered. ‘Now I have help to keep the pests away. The ice has melted, and the waters run free again. My roots can drink.’

‘Will you call off the thorns away from our chapel?’ Henry asked.

‘Plants can’t un-grow, but I’ll stop their growth. Their branches will turn dry and easy to clear,’ the girl replied. ‘That’s the best I can do.’

‘Who planted this garden, and how did you come to be here?’ asked Flora, as she looked about at the dried-out former glory, in the dim light around them.

‘My mother was sent down against her will to mine the stone. She was a wise woman; quite unique, as I understand. She studied the life of all the things that grow down here. She learned how to use magic to hasten the cycle of life and bloom, of seed, dormancy and rebirth. Much of the life you see in the caves today is her work. This garden, though, was her pride and joy.

‘One company man, a corporal Gregor, said he was in love with my mother, and promised to take her up to the surface for her freedom. She could have brought her knowledge to the surface to help others. My mother became pregnant with me, but the corporal lied. He never made good on his promise and left her here.

‘Heartbroken and shunned by the company, she prepared to give birth to me, all alone. When I arrived, it became clear she wouldn’t survive childbirth. I don’t know how she did it, but her final act was to pour out what she could of her wisdom and life force to nourish the sapling of this tree. She kept me alive by binding me into the garden and making me one with it.’

‘What are the golden specks?’ Aisling asked, as she looked up again with wonder at the tiny lights that drifted around the tree’s branches.

‘Plants don’t just need water,’ said the girl. ‘The earth is poor, but it’ll do. What we do need is light. I know you have done so much, but I have to ask you one last favour. Go over to that mound of ivy, towards the rear of the garden. The ivy covers something ancient; something unknowably old. Part the ivy. Tell me what you see there, and see what you can bring back.’

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The workers approached a hillock of overgrowth. It seemed inconspicuous among the rest of the garden. With some effort, they peeled back ivy to reveal carved stone pillars and slabs, which although eroded and crumbled to ruin, still remained upright. A lantern held close to it showed strange engravings. There were strange symbols and figures. It was hard to tell what they depicted. They seemed to be animals that stood on their hind legs, and they held items or used tools. Some appeared in processions or danced in some kind of ritual.

The construction’s entrance was narrow. They turned around a corner to find an inner chamber which shone with a brilliance that was painful to look at. This wasn’t the ethereal blue of the beam of light outside, but a blazing hot white.

‘It’s like being back in daylight!’ Henry breathed in awe.

‘Like looking straight into the sun…’ Aisling whispered.

Zachary spread his arms and bathed in the light. ‘Even with my eyes closed, it’s dazzling. After all the darkness of these caves, it’s so wonderful to feel the sun’s warmth.’

‘I never thought I’d see it again,’ Henry murmured, with sorrow in his voice. He put down his belongings and stood there with his arms outstretched also.

When their eyes adjusted, they saw the chamber was lined with a dark, shining stone that was sheer as flawless glass and black as the night sky.

‘What is this place?’ Percy asked. ‘The light’s coming from what looks like a mirror, or a window, but I can’t see a solid edge, or a pane of glass. It’s like… an empty space in the middle of the room…’

‘Look, there’s some type of crystal,’ said Zachary. He shielded his eyes from the glare and picked up a gemstone from a pedestal. ‘They glow with the same light.’

‘Let’s take one back to the girl in the garden. This must be the light she was talking about,’ urged Flora.

The mining troupe staggered out of the temple, feeling their way along as they left the dazzling blaze to the dark of the caverns. With dancing colours seared into their vision, they shuffled back to the tree and presented the crystal to the girl in its roots.

‘Yes, put it up in my branches,’ said the girl, with a smile. ‘Take the old stone, it’s spent.’

Aisling reached up to place the brilliant crystal as high as she could. A twig bent down to wrap the gem and carried it high up into the wilted boughs. A dull stone dropped down in return that was no more remarkable than a pebble of quartz.

The girl in the roots sighed, and then, in a spectacular rush, motes of light swirled out from the stone and swept all around the garden. The specks were like all the stars in the night sky but in a dazzling gold. The entire garden was lit with its spectacular, incandescent glow. The specks caught among the branches of the trees and tops of the hedges, and danced there like flying insects.

‘It’s wonderful,’ breathed Aisling.

‘What is this power? What is that building?’ Irene asked, open-mouthed in amazement.

‘No-one knows who made the temple or crafted these stones. From the last, faint traces of mother’s wisdom, I only know that it comes from long before any time was recorded by people. Whoever these beings were, they managed to open a hole, like a window out to the great beyond. What I think you saw in there was a vision straight to the sun. How wonderful to see life-giving light down here, in the eternal dark. This is the only daylight I ever saw.’ The girl in the roots’ words had faded back to a whisper and her eyes were fluttering shut.

‘Replace the old stone to the building and let it renew. Take a stone for yourself by all means, but use it wisely. You have helped me greatly, and I shall give you something in return,’ said the girl.

With slow, difficult, movement, the girl reached under the soil. Her hand re-emerged with a palm full of round, pebble-like seeds.

‘Take these. They will spring to life in as much as a lump of clay. They grow my own special kind of nightshade. That’s how I see things around here – and how I watched it all wither and get nibbled away. Plant one at your home, and another in a place you would like to keep watch, in secret. The berries will be your eyes,’ the girl whispered. Flora took the seeds and pocketed them.

‘Come and plant whatever you need in my flower beds. I’ll grow them well and good for you. But for now, let me rest. I have some regrowth to do. The cat would like to say, although you didn’t meet on the best of terms, you should call on her if you really need help. Only once, mind. She says you know what she’s capable of…’ The girl in the roots fell asleep. The cat was apparently already asleep, with her back turned to the others.