It was a good while later before everyone conceded that they had done all that they could.

The supplies were stacked on wooden pallets and the water had been dammed up. The miners made their way up the tight, spiral staircase to the chapel’s upper floor and settled down to fall asleep. Exhausted, they laid in the bed rolls provided to them in their provisions.

Henry sat and looked out of one of the windows. Irene came and sat down next to him.

From here they could see how the writhing thorns had washed over the rock like a sea until it ran aground on the chapel. At least now it seemed to have come to rest, at a high tide of barbed malice.

‘Aren’t you tired? It must be deep in the night,’ Irene asked, with weariness in his own voice.

‘It’s been a long day,’ Flora murmured, half asleep, in her bed roll next to them.

‘It sure has. Is it even safe to sleep?’ questioned Zachary. He sighed.

‘I’m making sure. I’ll sleep soon,’ Henry said. He gestured towards a bundle of foul sacking in the corner of the room. ‘I was waiting for everyone else to fall asleep anyway. I built an outhouse where I can wash away any residue after handling magic like that. I don’t want anyone peeping.’

Irene took the opportunity to look Henry over, now he was sat closer. She examined the rough pieces of iron plate that covered his shoulders, chest, arms and the back of his hands. Indents from the hammer work could be seen all over them. Here and there it looked like molten iron had been poured over cracks to repair them. None of the plates were even or symmetrical.

The sacking that protruded between each plate and covered the gaps between was dirty and roughly torn into shape. It seemed to act as padding between the plates and Henry, and it covered any last bit of him from view.

‘Isn’t that uncomfortable?’ Irene asked.

Henry murmured a small noise, neither yes, nor no.

‘Why don’t you even take off your helmet and breathe? Let us see you,’ asked Irene in a soft voice.

Henry recoiled as she reached towards the helmet. He brought his hand up to ward her off and growled. Irene backed away.

‘There’s little symbols etched all over your suit of armour, mister knight. What do they mean?’ asked Irene in a sharper voice.

‘They mean what you make them mean. You give the symbols meaning,’ Henry replied.

‘I don’t get what you’re saying. These look like mystic symbols; things witches would have in their spell books, or when people want to put curses on others. You are a believer in our Lord and saviour Jesus Christ, aren’t you?’ Irene retorted.

‘Yes, yes. Of course.’ Henry’s response was dull and not convincing.

‘Look out at what you can see.’ Henry gestured out of the window. ‘Today we saw a vast beam of pure energy, the likes of which has never seen before, on the surface of the world. It’s been drawn down here. I think it’s the energy that underpins everything in Creation. That energy could have been anything. I stuck a metal rod in it and turned that energy into fire. I saw it, you saw it. This is what I believe in; what I can see.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

‘There are lights that glow like fireflies over by those waters. They will beckon to you, but if you follow them, they will dance out of reach until they lead you out to depths where you’ll drown. Over there is a flock of sleeping crows where I know no crows on earth should be. Yesterday I saw a large dog, with eyes as large as saucers, which glowed with fire. Over there you can just see a person by the water’s edge; a person who I know is dead and buried.’

Irene gave a start and looked to where Henry pointed in the distance. Just visible beneath the ethereal, lunar glow of the beam of light she could see a figure stooping and feeling about in the shallows of a rock pool.

‘There are forces in the world for which we have no explanation, but that’s our shortcoming. That’s our fault. We should acknowledge these things, even if we don’t understand them. But, the world is full of Dales who don’t want to understand, and that’s a problem. That’s what I believe.’

Henry got up. In a quiet voice so as not to wake the others he said; ‘It’s late. I need to have that wash. It’s beginning to itch, and I can tell by your expression it’s been a while since my last one.’ Henry yawned. ‘I tend to sleep through the day, so I would appreciate if no-one woke me,’ he said, and went down the stairs.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Percy.

‘Him. Henry. I don’t trust him one bit. I think being too long down here has turned him barmy. The way he scuttles about and is dressed up like that – he’s part feral. That stunt he pulled with setting that rod on fire and blowing it up was stupid and dangerous.’ Dale shook with anger. The dark rims around his swollen eyes suggested that he hadn’t slept.

‘He’s a strange one, but he knows his way around. He said he would help us,’ replied Irene.

‘I don’t know how he did that trick with the exploding rod,’ said Zachary.

‘He showed us what he meant about the power of magic – about the beam of light. Although it was reckless,’ said Percy.

‘Magic indeed! Some kind of parlour tricks he’s playing on us, more like. He must have stuffed that rod full of gunpowder, or something. He can’t fool me. And this cave is crawling with wild dogs and birds; real ones I mean, not goblins and ghouls, like he says.’ Dale peered through one grimy window to the dark of the cavern outside.

‘How can you say that, Dale, after all we’ve seen? We’ve seen so many strange things over the last day that we can’t explain. I want to hear what he has to say. He seems to know what’s going on,’ said Flora.

Dale yelped as he went to sit down on a crate. ‘Oh these blasted brambles, where are they coming from?’ he lamented.

‘I want to get the hearth fire back on. There’s still so much broth left to reheat. And I don’t know about you but I’m dying for a pot of tea.’ Percy had his head buried in the fireplace as he went back to scraping out lumps of wet coal.

‘Where’s he now?’ Aisling spoke up in her sullen, muttering tone to break her morning-long silence.

‘He’s asleep upstairs. He asked that we leave him be,’ Irene replied.

‘We’ve got one more day before the Company comes back for their inspection and we haven’t done a lick of work. I for one am going out there to the pit and make myself useful rather than sleep all day. I expect to see the rest of you there within the hour,’ Dale announced. He grabbed a pickaxe, a sack and a lantern and stamped out of the chapel, slamming the door behind him.

Aisling shrugged, grumbled something, and followed after Dale with tools of her own.

‘What’s the matter with Dale? When I first met him I thought he was the most reasonable person I ever met and would help get us through this!’ Zachary exclaimed.

‘I don’t know,’ Irene replied. ‘It’s as though he doesn’t accept the way things are.’

‘It might be the shock of all the changes. Maybe he thought he would be in charge,’ said Flora.

‘We should go after them. I’ll wrap up some food for us to take.’ Irene gave a weary sigh.

‘Go out there? By ourselves?’ asked Zachary, aghast.

‘Yes. Together by ourselves. Come on, be brave. We’ll stick to the paths and use the lanterns. It’ll be fine,’ said Irene.