Aisling and Zachary had long since returned to the chapel by the time Percy crashed in.

‘What happened? We were worried sick,’ Zachary trilled, as he moved to help Percy up from the floor where he panted, coughed, and wheezed.

‘Where’d you bugger off to?’ Aisling asked in a flat, deadpan voice.

‘I followed the one… who was watching us…’ Percy gasped as he climbed to his feet. ‘We need to get Henry!’

‘Who was that wearing the helmet, and what kind of helmet was that?’ Zachary asked.

‘No helmet… no person inside. A life-size puppet that can move and talk on its own… I followed it to a building. There was a man there, he was the boss, and there was someone else. He looked like a town crier. Then there were other statues that walked on their own. That iron seam belongs to them. They’re mining it,’ Percy managed to say.

‘Who? What? Did they follow you back here?’ Zachary urged Percy for answers.

‘No, no. Impossible,’ Percy replied.

‘That’s barmy. Town criers and walking puppets – did you hit your head?’ Aisling responded.

‘Your colleague speaks the truth, I can attest;

with our mining claim are these caverns shared.

Lord Gifrey’s venture here does invest,

and I, his advisor, am known as Bard.’

The man in the town crier’s costume had walked into the room.

Bard doffed his feathered hat, struck a pose, and stood waiting as if anticipating applause.

‘How? No one followed me. How are you here… in the blink of an eye and not even out of breath.’ Percy was the first to speak.

The three miners were transfixed and stuck for words by what they witnessed.

When applause did not come, Bard dropped to a slouch and scowled.

Aisling squinted hard at him and pointed a finger.

‘Bogle. You’re a bogle,’ Aisling accused.

The miners began to reach for any nearby tools to defend themselves.

‘Such an outrageous accusation! Oh me, oh my! O, violence!’ Bard’s expression turned to one of shock and he gave a frenetic strum on his lute.

Upon seeing how this display fell flat on some suspicious glares, Bard dropped the act.

‘I tell thee the truth as I am a man of my word. Lord Gifrey the great industrialist also conducts his mining operations in these caves. Until now we suspected yet did not fully know that these caverns were shared with another interest. On behalf of us all, I am pleased to make your acquaintance,’ Bard told the miners in a sniffy tone.

‘If you are looking for your companion named Henry, then why don’t you try…’ Bard took a moment to cock his head in apparent thought. ‘A place filled with flowers, that once more blooms into life?’

‘The garden; how do you know about that?’ Aisling asked.

‘An advisor must be most witty and wise. As a man of my word, and humble friend, to advise well is my duty,’ replied Bard.

‘But that’s not wisdom, that’s specific knowledge. If you know that, then how come you told your boss, this Gifrey, that you never heard of us before?’ Percy rubbed his chin and frowned in thought.

It was Bard’s turn to be stuck for words.

‘Oho!’ Bard chortled as though Percy had told a terribly amusing joke. HHHHHHH e then whipped out his penny-whistle and began tootling once more.

To some, it appeared as though he was stalling for time.

‘I swear that you shall find your companion where I described, as I may be trusted as a man of my word! And so for now; adieu; farewell!’ Bard pranced off out of view behind a tree-thick stalagmite as he strummed his lute once more.

Bard didn’t prance back out the other side. Aisling went to look, but he had vanished into thin air.

‘Tough audience…’ came a disembodied mutter.

The three miners were left standing by themselves.

‘Well, that was clearly a bogle,’ said Zachary.

‘No doubt,’ replied Aisling.

‘According to someone, we should never do what a bogle says, on the grounds that it’s always a trick,’ said Percy. ‘The last time we did so we ended up to the eyeballs in thorns.’

‘While we were looking for a flower that didn’t exist,’ grumbled Aisling.

‘But what’s the trick here? Are we being tricked? We know Irene and Flora went to the garden, and Henry could well be with them,’ reasoned Percy.

‘We might as well go, what else are we going to do?’ Zachary shrugged, so the three of them set off for the gardens.

Beyond the wall of thorns that encircled the flowerbeds, hedgerows, and paths of the desiccated garden, motes drifted through the air like fireflies.

The shining specks of dust floated in their strange constellations among the bare trees and collapsing trellises.

They glowed with sunlight and lit the gardens with the brilliance that the miners had released from the ancient temple’s gemstones.

It was thanks to this light that green buds of life had begun to already speckle among the dead foliage.

Flora and Irene’s voices could be heard within the garden. Aisling, Zachary and Percy found them clearing dead leaves near the centre.

‘Ah, there you are!’ Irene called over. She beamed from ear to ear and looked her happiest since she arrived as a new employee of the Company.

‘We dug out the little streams that took water through the whole garden and are getting ready to plant some vegetables,’ Irene said.

‘We’ve brought some of our turnips to grow new ones and we’ve been told there’s a bank of seeds under the soil that can grow things. Look! New shoots are already coming through,’ enthused Flora.

‘Bringing the light here worked. This place can start healing again,’ said Irene, with satisfaction.

‘We still haven’t decided what to call you,’ Flora turned and seemed to address the tree that grew at the garden’s middle.

The witch’s cat languished up in the tree’s branches and twitched her ear as the miners approached.

Among the tree’s roots, crimson strands of bristling weeds had curled back. The girl who lay half buried in the soil and intertwined with the roots had her eyes closed.

She seemed to be halfway between dreaming and as though she was looking at something within herself. Her skin was washed clean and no longer appeared clammy and feverish, as she was when the miners first met her.

‘All this time, I never had need of a name,’ the girl in the roots replied in a soft voice and gave a gentle smile. ‘I have no memory of being given a name. I remember words, and pieces of wisdom that were left with me, but they’re not much more than feelings. What do people call themselves?’

‘Well, Flora mentioned the names of some of her favourite flowers. Jasmine, or petunia, or iris, or rose. Maybe one of those?’ Irene suggested.

‘Flora, that’s a nice name,’ the girl said.

‘It’s already taken!’ Flora scolded.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

‘What did you grow in your garden? Daisies, ivy, nightshade… what tree is that growing from you, is it a willow?’ Irene suggested.

‘Garden. That’s a nice name. I like it,’ replied the girl.

‘Garden’s not a name,’ Flora tried to reason with the girl.

‘No-one’s called Garden,’ Irene protested.

‘Yes, Garden. I like it. If no-one else is called Garden, then that makes it unique. I doubt there are many other girls out there like me,’ the girl considered.

‘Hello? We came to find you! This is important!’ Aisling cried.

‘We’ve made contact with another group, and they’re after our iron ore,’ Zachary told them.

‘I followed one back to where they came from and overheard them talking about it. The one I followed was like a living statue; a boy made of gold! There’s other walking statues too, and a big boss, and one who we think is a bogle working with them. We need to find Henry!’ Words flowed out of Percy in an urgent stream.

‘Is Henry the one who wears a metal shell all over him? He came sneaking in while you helped,’ the girl in the roots said in her dreamy voice. ‘He clearly didn’t want to be seen, so I let him be. Nothing much gets past me. My eyes are everywhere.’ Garden’s eyelids fluttered open and revealed the black orbs within that looked like nightshade berries.

‘You can find him in the old temple,’ Garden told them, then gave a smile. ‘You may want to knock.’

Aisling, Percy, Zachary, Irene and Flora made their way to the ancient temple. Only the doorway of the disintegrating stone ruin was visible beneath a coat of dead ivy and the debris of untold ages.

A song echoed from within;

‘Six jolly miners, we're not worth a pin.

But when we get a bit of coal we'll make the kettle sing.

And we'll riddle and we'll fiddle, and we'll make the world go round.

If you don't mind your troubles…’

‘Singing? Henry?’ Percy asked with incredulity as he strained to make out the words.

‘What a dreadful voice. He misses every note,’ chuckled Zachary.

‘We’ve got no time for a sing-song,’ Aisling grumbled and scowled.

Aisling strode in before anyone could pull her back.

There was a deafening roar of oaths and curses. Oddly enough, they came from Henry.

Aisling came tumbling back out.

‘He’s… he’s going to need a minute,’ Aisling mumbled, crimson-faced.

After a while, Henry emerged from the temple. He readjusted his armour plates that had lost a patina of grime. The stained, ragged layer of sacking and cloth beneath them looked less filthy than before.

‘What the devil are you about, barging in like that, and how did you find me?’ Henry sputtered in anger.

‘Henry, we’re not alone down here, and someone is contesting our rights to the ore!’ Zachary told him.

‘Troops of living statues, they have. There’s one made of gold that can talk, and calls a boss man ‘father’ said Percy. ‘They have a man like a town crier, who seems to know a lot. He came to the chapel so he knows where we live now. It told us where to find you, and then vanished as quickly as he appeared.’

‘Did you just have a wash? Were you sunbathing?’ Irene asked.

‘Yeah, things dry out really well in there,’ Henry mumbled with embarrassment.

‘That’s all very suspicious. Did it occur to you that it might not have been a real person?’ Henry said, trying to regain his dignity.

‘Yes, we figured that he was a bogle, but he told us where to find you,’ replied Zachary.

‘Ah, you blasted fools. It’s always tricks with the fae,’ growled Henry.

‘But he was right,’ Aisling pointed out.

‘Then he’s playing the long game!’ Henry snapped.

‘Walking statues and a bogle working with people? I never heard of such things.’ Henry’s shoulders slumped. ‘It’s been one thing after another since you lot arrived. It never ends!’

‘I don’t see how you can blame us!’ Aisling retorted.

‘So what were you doing while this was going on, having a spa session? All the rage these days, so I hear,’ Zachary asked in a snide voice.

‘Washed my armour and under-clothes, didn’t I?’ replied Henry with annoyance. ‘There’s nothing for it, we’ll have to go and see what’s going on.’

‘Henry having a wash? I never heard of such things,’ Zachary whispered to Percy.

As they made their way to the exit of the garden, the miners passed the tree at the centre of it. Henry hissed at the cat, and she hissed back.

‘What are you doing with my turnips?’ Henry demanded as he spotted the small pile that were ready to be planted.

‘We cleared the flower beds and started planting them. Garden said she would grow them for us, remember?’ Flora exclaimed.

‘Those are my turnips and I grew them, and I never said you could take them!’ Henry shouted, his anger returning. ‘Who on earth is Garden?’

‘The girl in the tree roots; it’s the name she chose,’ replied Irene to Henry’s anger in an acid tone.

Garden’s eyes flickered open at the disturbance.

‘That’s daft, Garden’s not a name. No-one’s called Garden,’ Henry scoffed.

There was a grumble of indignation from within the tree roots.

‘You know what, go ahead. Why not? I told you don’t eat things that have been too near magic, but now you want to grow from magic directly. You won’t listen! I had a routine going and we were doing just fine without interference by magic girls in flower beds. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I never would have let this nonsense slide before you all showed up.’ Henry ranted. He threw his arms up in the air, and gave a kind of despairing laugh.

On the way out, Henry turned and pointed at the cat.

‘I went round to your well shaft on the way. It collapsed in on itself when your bloody ice magic thawed,’ he snapped. ‘There’s no way out any more.’

The cat growled and looked away. As the miners left, Irene whispered an apology to Garden, and the cat.

The six not-so-jolly miners heard the noise of chipping and shovelling as they approached the newly-found ore vein.

They crept up and observed as the automatons made of wood and metal dug with a slow, but relentless pace.

‘They’re hacking out chunks any old how,’ whispered Henry and shook his head.

‘They scoop up chunks of rock and ore regardless, but they work without tiring. I don’t think they ever stop,’ whispered Percy.

‘No sign of the golden one,’ murmured Zachary.

Percy gave an urgent tap on Henry’s arm. ‘When I was at their workshop, a gang like this walked right past me and didn’t blink. Well, not that they could. You know what I mean.’

‘Let me test something,’ Percy said, and took a deep breath

Percy fumbled around in the dark, and then threw a handful of pebbles at the statues.

Everyone froze in alarm, but the automatons continued to toil and didn’t react.

Even as people tugged at his sleeves and hissed for him to get down, Percy stood up in full view from behind his cover.

‘Hey!’ Percy called in a faltering voice.

Still, the automatons laboured regardless.

One by one, the miners got up from where they hid behind the various rocks and stalagmites. They then dropped back down again as the automatons halted their labour and straightened up.

In unison, the automatons formed a line and began to march in the direction of their workshop.

Percy followed them, and scuttled up as close as he dared behind the automaton at the rear.

‘What are you doing, have you got a death wish?’ Henry growled at Percy as he scurried along to catch up and wielded his staff at the ready.

Henry saw how Percy’s eyes were wide, and his expression fixed in fear, as he closed in on the marching figure.

Nevertheless, Percy drew a kitchen knife from within his uniform jacket, and with a swift, darting motion, he slit the sack of iron ore that the automaton carried. The ore spilled from the sack, but still the worker kept marching, and didn’t break pace.

‘Stop it, someone will figure out they’ve been tampered with,’ urged Henry.

‘I wanted to see if I was right. The statues will only do their job no matter what. They can’t react to anything else. They have no mind of their own,’ Percy told Henry.

‘Why are you carrying a knife?’ Henry scolded.

‘Just in case! You never know. Always be prepared.’ Percy shrugged.

The statues emerged from the dark caves and onto the open plain. The workshop was in full view ahead. Its windows were lit from within, smoke rose from the chimneys and there was the echo of metal being struck.

‘I want to see up close, but how?’ Henry whispered and looked for any scrap of cover.

‘We have to walk directly behind them. That’s the only way to avoid being seen,’ Percy said. He ran after the marching automatons and marched behind them.

Henry cursed, but then followed.

The automatons continued their parade through the workshop’s entrance.

Percy and Henry split off to hide around the side of the building and observe. They pressed against a wall and peered in through a window.

‘Come on, we’ve got work to do! Bring that ore in and get it broken down. You! Oh, you clumsy beggar, you’ve gone and torn your sack!’ the factory boss shouted from his chair.

‘We’ll miss the deadline and won’t make the target!’ the big man mourned. ‘Oh, that blasted Edwald will give me grief…’

The man dressed like a town crier turned theatrical performer appeared from around the doorway and approached the big man’s chair.

He gave a dainty skip with each step he took as though he danced a little jig.

‘Oyez, oyez. Hear ye, hear ye. Now, for the latest news; the mining of our southern pit resumes anew. The smelter burns at a steady one-thousand, nine-hundred degrees and our stash of charged ore is up five-and-a-half per cent today,’ Bard announced, as he gave a broad, disingenuous-looking smile.

‘Spare these faithful servants your wrath, this sabotage is the doing of the eavesdropper and his fellows. They contest your natural right to the metals and want it all for themselves!’ Bard informed the man in his chair.

‘That’s him, that’s the one who came to us,’ Percy whispered to Henry.

‘That’s a bogle, if not a full-fledged boggart, like I suspect the crow girl was,’ Henry whispered back.

Gifrey let out a deep, belly-aching moan of dismay at Bard’s words.

‘Those thieving eavesdroppers now know your home.

‘Gainst your labours they begin a campaign.

Interfering and meddling, they snoop, spy

and pilfer, all for their ill-gotten gains.’

Bard gave a little strum on his lute as he rounded off his rhyme.

‘Oh! The little wretches, snooping and pilfering!’ Gifrey moaned.

‘They’ll have your endeavours be all for nought,

schedules be missed, fabrication all faltered.

Your labours usurped, by thiev’ry thwarted

Goods embezzled and supply lines halted.

‘All my hard work usurped and thieved!’ Gifrey groaned.

‘Should efforts flounder and then run awry

then contracts shall break and trade be finished.

Larders shall empty and casks shall run dry.

Starvation shall gnaw; then you’ll be famished.’

‘Oh what terrible agony, to starve to death down here in this dark, desolate place. Those little fiends would have me starve!’ wailed Gifrey.

‘Gone to rack and ruin, the walls tumble down,

wily eyes fall ‘pon thy greatest treasure.

What shall they do with the boy made of gold

but chop him to bits for greed and pleasure.’

Bard plucked the last notes of his strings with a wolfish grin.

‘Father!’ the golden boy cried in alarm. Until this time, he had remained silent.

‘CONFOUND THEM ALL! Take what’s mine, and chop my boy to bits too? I SHALL HANG THEM BY THE CRANES AND WINCH THEM UP INTO THAT BLASTED LIGHT!’ Gifrey roared at the top of his lungs, the slumped into coughs and wheezes.

‘What a snake!’ Percy breathed, in astonishment at Bard’s venomous words.

‘Nowhere and no time is safe while the miscreants still prowl. See, they even spy on you now!’ Bard exclaimed.

To Henry and Percy’s horror, Bard pointed to their window.

‘After them!’ Gifrey roared at his puppets.

Henry and Percy ran as fast as they could from the cavern’s open chamber and off to the darkened caves.

‘No time to explain! Run! Let’s try to lose them,’ Henry gasped to Irene, Aisling, Zachary and Flora.

Together they made off through a maze of tunnels.

In the dark, among the mysterious whispering and giggling wildlife of the caves and the tramp of mechanical feet pursuing them, the miners took one hasty turn after another and became lost.