In the dim recesses of time, my school had needed me to undertake 'work experience' for a couple of weeks. As far as I could tell, the whole thing existed because our teachers were at the end of their tether and were looking to outsource the crowd control for a bit. True to form, I'd left it to the last minute to organise anything and ended up working in the local Nursery. I mention this because the way those Knockers are looking at me is faintly reminiscent of the cold, dead-eye regard of thirty toddlers sizing up the fresh meat.

In response to their sudden interest in us, Sǣþrȳð started fumbling in the pouch at her waist, producing a pie of some sort. She broke it in two and then held it out to the little creatures. It seemed to me that unless she had some serious loaves-and-fishes shenanigans planned, this was unlikely to be sufficient.

One of the closer Knockers scampered forward towards Sǣþrȳð. It grabbed one of the halves out of her hand and was instantly tackled to the floor by two or three others. In seconds, a swarm of these things were fighting over what was left of the crust.

I couldn't help but feel like I was stood helplessly by, watching Brody chumming the waters. We were going to need a bigger pie.

"Is that a good idea? It seems to be winding them up."

"You have to make an offering to the Knockers. Everyone knows that." Sǣþrȳð seemed oddly unconcerned about the voracious way the rest of those in the cave were looking at the remaining half a pastry in her hand.

The words of that tour guide so many years ago (or was it so many years in the future? Time travel was tricky) echoed in my head: "Beware the fae, ladies and gentlemen. For they wish you harm."

Right now, I could well believe it. My hands filled up with Qi, and because you can never have access to enough instant death, I tried to draw Drynwyn.

Nope. Not going to happen. Not against Knockers.

"Quit it. Now is not the time for you to get murder-shy." But try as I might, it steadfastly refused to leave its scabbard. "Fuck's sake, Drynwyn, strap on a pair and get ready to wack some Smurfs."

But it remained silent. In a burst of cultivator-chivalry, I tried to push Sǣþrȳð behind me, but she slapped my arm away. "Stop it. I'm telling you, there's nothing to be worried about. But they'll start getting cranky if you don't stop shouting and leaking Qi everywhere. I didn't bring you down here to fight them. They're friendly!"

And the Knockers immediately demonstrated their peaceful friendliness towards me by swarming forwards, a horde of tiny figures moving as one, their sharp teeth and malicious intent pretty damn obvious.

My fights so far had tended to be against things much bigger than me, so I was momentarily stumped as to how to approach it. The malevolent little things took advantage of my confusion, and, in no time, my legs were covered in nipping, biting imps slowly climbing their way up my body.

I swept downwards with both hands and managed to dislodge several of them, but the others grabbed a hold and clambered onto my shoulders.

Within seconds, I had Knockers crawling through my hair and nibbling on my ears.

There's a scene in The Mummy where a host of scarab beetles munch down on some treasure hunters. There's skittering, and chirruping, and chomping, and screaming. The whole thing had given me nightmares for weeks. If I even saw so much a ladybird, I ended up in a gibbering heap of PTSD.

Thus, I was so glad to have the opportunity to relieve that horror in real life. Like, absolutely cock-a-hoop about this state of affairs.

In my growing panic, I dropped into my artist's studio. My Qi was flowing around freely, including into my armour to top up its reservoirs of power, which dipped down each time one of these hell-sprites bit me.

Stolen story; please report.

I was aware of Sǣþrȳð shouting near me, but the tone sounded more like she was pissed off rather than experiencing the agony of having the flesh stripped from her bones.

I needed to get these things off me. At the best of times, I was leery about being touched - apart from in very specific circumstances - so the feeling of thousands of little hands, feet and mouths all over me was proving to be a very specific ick.

Seemingly, in response to my growing horror, a single drop of my Qi solidified into a hard ball. Having this form inside me was a peculiar feeling- almost strange enough to block out the nips and bites now starting to cover my face. As soon as I focused on the ball, it began whizzing around my channels.

Think 'marble run' designed by Escher if you need a visual.

With each circuit the sphere completed, it was like the ball appeared to absorb more and more of my purple paint. As it grew, from frenzied ricochets around my channels, its movements became smoother and far more controlled.

Soon, its movement actually started to calm me down some. I was even able to fade out the teeth and claws digging into my flesh. Eventually, even the thought of being covered by them wasn't causing me quite so much terror.

Then, just when it seemed like the sphere couldn't grow any bigger and still move, at least not without splitting the channels, it screeched to a halt just behind my belly button and, with no further ado, exploded.

The words [Personal Space Invader technique created] floated across my vision.

The effect was fairly dramatic.

A wave of purple Qi rolled out from an origin point in my stomach and threw all my attackers away and off my body; they crashed into the tunnel's walls to fall limply to the ground.

The wave also hit the wall, but - much to my surprise - rebounded back towards me, hitting the Knockers for a second time and flinging them against the opposite wall before returning to the spot above my belly button.

I waited to see if that ball of Qi would do anything else, but, no, it seemed quite happy to sit there with my paint continuing to move around it. It was spinning like an ornamental water feature.

After all the frenzied noise of the Knockers attack on me, I very much welcomed the silence that descended. It didn't last.

What the fuck was that?

"I don't know. I think I created another Qi technique."

You think? Fuck me. Isn't the whole point with you cultivators that you, you know, 'cultivate' shit? Shouldn't you know?

Sǣþrȳð was suddenly at my side. She was also not pleased. This was not my day for making new friends and influencing people.

"What was that? You could have hurt them!"

"I could have hurt them? Did you not see what was going on? They were trying to eat me!"

"Eat you? They were just being friendly. That's how Knockers say 'hello'. And now you've gone and upset them."

"Sǣþrȳð! They were attacking me."

"They're three apples high. You've just massacred an entire Saxon war party. I think you were probably going to be okay. They're very affectionate creatures when you get to know them."

The Knockers were pulling themselves upright now and casting somewhat reproachful glances my way.

"Let me get this straight. The reason why the village wouldn't evacuate when the Saxons were closing in was because you wanted to protect these fucking chaos goblins?"

"Don't be stupid. Knockers don't need the likes of us protecting them. They've mined these tunnels since the beginning of time and will keep doing so long after we've all gone." I thought back to the one I'd seen during my mine tour. She had a point. "They don't care if it's us or the Saxons living above ground."

The Knockers were watching us carefully now: I wasn't feeling bathed in the warm glow of their positive regard.

"So, why wouldn't you leave?"

Sǣþrȳð sighed in frustration. "Are you blind? Look at what they're doing."

I looked over the head of the glowering little imps at the walls they had been excavating. I saw seams of what I took to be tin running through the rock. The Knockers had been smashing it out of the walls into their little wheelbarrows. On the floor, discarded as rubbish, was something else. Little lumps of shining stone.

I felt a surge of Wulfnoð's memories for the first time in a while. And these memories said: 'gimmie!'

"Are those ...?"

"Finally, you get it. There's not many things in the world anyone here would risk facing a Saxon war party for. Those? Those are right up there."

What are you talking about? I felt the hilt of the sword tug to the left as if Drynwyn was trying to look over my shoulder. Fuck me! Those are uncut mana stones. There's hundreds of the fuckers.

And there were.

Whilst cutting out their tin, the Knockers seemed to be uncovering and discarding hundreds upon hundreds of mana stones.

This, if the clamour from Drynwyn and the positive drooling from Wulfnoð's memories was anything to go by, felt like kind of a big deal.