Henry was not large. In fact, he was smaller than most of the group. The slow certainty with which Henry moved, however, along with the armour which he wore, made him seem formidable, despite his limp.

Henry walked with a stave, which seemed as much of a weapon as anything else. It was a brutal thing. It had a lumpen, metal head, like a mace, and was clearly as much a weapon as a walking aid.

‘It’s been a long time since the Company sent me down. They can’t know I’m still here. Officially, that is to say; on their books; I’m dead,’ Henry told the others, and tapped a gravestone with his weapon.

Trembling hands turned their lamps to the stone marker. On the face of it was chiselled the inscription:

HENRY EVANS

AGE 17

1873

‘I know a thing or two about the cavern, and how things work around here. You would be wise to accept my help. From what I’ve seen, you could use all the help you can get,’ Henry said.

The figure drew closer so both he and the others were more visible to each other. Henry cast the hollow-eyed glare of the helmet to each worker in turn, and they could see the misshapen, crude, armour in detail.

Henry began pacing back and forth. He settled into a hunched stance and leaned on his stave. Henry shot suspicious looks from one new worker to another.

The metal plates were etched in mysterious symbols. Although the metal may have been thick and irregular in form, there was something about the figure beneath them that seemed to be just as uneven and irregular in shape. Nothing could be seen of the person within the layer of armour due to the dirty sacking cloth that stuffed each gap between the plates.

‘Who are you?’ Flora asked with a trembling voice.

‘I’m Henry!’ the figure exclaimed, voice rasping through his helmet in exasperation.

‘I think what she means to ask is; why are you here, and for what reason?’ Dale responded in a low and careful tone.

‘I didn’t care for the Company’s indentured servitude program, so I made the choice to stay down here,’ Henry replied.

‘Why would you choose to stay down here?’ Zachary asked, as he emerged from where he hid behind a rock.

‘Now, there’s a question.’ Henry gave a humourless chuckle as he picked at some sacking cloth and scratched himself.

‘Come on, I’ll show you around and let you know how to get started,’ said Henry.

Henry beckoned the others to follow him, and he hobbled to the chapel entrance.

‘No doubt it will be a lot to adjust to. I’ve lived in the chapel for a while now. I know how things work; I’ll show you,’ Henry muttered. ‘What does the Company say, about things that go bump in the night? Do they still say that? It’s true. You’ll need to learn a particular way to deal with it. In the meantime; stick on the paths. Stay in the light, and do as I say.’

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

‘Why should we trust you?’ Dale demanded. He and the rest of the group hadn’t moved.

‘You haven’t got much choice!’ Henry snapped with a sudden anger.

‘You’ll be staying in my home and working my pits. There’s a lot to learn, and the sooner we can get through this and get you sent back up to the surface the better!’

‘What’s the blue light?’ Irene asked.

All of them turned to look past the chapel’s crumbling roof to the spectral river of light that ran its steady course through the air with its eerie noiselessness.

‘It’s magic,’ said Henry, with a softer voice. The tone seemed like quiet awe.

‘What’s that?’ Dale retorted in disbelief.

‘Magic. The living spirit of the earth. It’s the life force of the world, and all living things. It’s been drawn down into the earth by the iron ore you’ve been sent here to dig. The Company want it for their own use. They use it in their rituals and for their wealthy clients.’ Dale said.

‘Nonsense! I don’t believe it,’ Dale scoffed. ‘It must be… trapped light, or frozen lightning...’

Henry threw back his head and brayed with laughter, which surprised the others.

‘Frozen lightning? What the blazes is frozen lightning? That’s the daftest thing I’ve ever heard!’ Henry crowed.

‘You think magic is more reasonable.’ Aisling’s scathing interjection was more of a statement than a question. It fell between Henry’s laughing fit and a bout of his coughing.

‘I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that. You’ll know soon enough what it is. And take it from me; if you put your hand in it, or stay around it too long, you’ll know. It’s not your friend,’ Henry said, and then muttered; ‘If you don’t believe me, there’s others you can ask.’

‘What others?’ Dale enquired, still smarting from being laughed at.

‘That there’s enough questions for now. ‘Specially if you don’t believe the answers you’ve already been given. You should bring your things in,’ Henry replied as he went inside the chapel. He sounded weary.

Now lit by gas lamps, the chapel interior presented its squalor to view and the routes around the heaps of rubbish, and discarded, rotting things.

‘I got it just the way I like it. Never was one for housework anyway,’ Henry grumbled.

Henry gave a close look at the drum, tapped the label and sniffed the spout. ‘Ah, that’s the new paraffin stuff. That’s good that is; it’ll keep the chapel and paths lit for days at a time. “Only the best for our Company workers.” Henry gave a sarcastic chuckle then began raking out the coals that were doused by his turnip stew.

Dale, Irene, Flora, Percy, Zachary and Aisling stacked their gear inside the chapel entrance. They then made to settle down and leave it there.

They flinched as Henry sprang up from what he was doing.

‘You can’t leave those there!’ Henry roared. ‘Mining equipment goes here, foodstuffs go there, and the coal goes over here!’ Henry pointed in turn at a rusting heap of iron scrap, decaying crates then an inky-black mound of dirt by the fireplace.

‘How can you seriously say that?’ Zachary shouted, once he recovered from the outburst. ‘This place is wretched! It’s tragic! I for one refuse to stay in such filthy surroundings. It’s bad enough that we were sent down here, but I will not catch some disease living like this!’

‘This is my home! I’ll say what it’s like!’ Henry yelled back.

Dale ushered the others outside for a word.

‘This poor blighter’s plainly been down here for too long, and on his own. He claims he knows how things work, or so he keeps saying. I don’t know what he means by that, and he’s clearly confused about this magic business,’ Dale said to the others in a low voice.

‘What I want to know is, what is he talking about? What did he mean about things that go bump in the night, and not touching the light?’ Frustration was audible in Irene’s voice.

‘It matches up with what the Duchess told us,’ said Percy.

‘I don’t feel safe with him around. He’s wearing all that armour, he’s got a weapon, and he’s very unpleasant,’ Flora said, again on the verge of tears. ‘And he stinks.’

‘If he tries anything, I’ll rip his head off,’ Aisling offered.

‘This is too awful, I feel sick with worry. And from the smell!’ Zachary wailed.

‘I’ll agree with you on that one. We had better work out some sort of peace deal with him and see what he has to say, but we’ve got to be firm on cleaning this place up. And also for things to start making sense. Agreed?’ said Dale.