Lodestone Book 1: Of Flood & Wrath & Thorn

Lodestone Book 1: Of Flood & Wrath & Thorn Part 10

Henry, Irene, Aisling, Flora, Zachary and Percy returned to the chapel to find Dale sat on a crate and cradling a cold, congealed bowl of stew. He glowered into it with an unbroken, sullen expression without eating any and gave a miserable sniff. He still dripped with black grime and silt.

The water had receded now that the stream flowed along the ancient river bed, but the others could see Dale had given up on clearing the mess or rebuilding the sodden fireplace.

'Come on, you,' said Irene. 'It's been a busy day. Let's get you to bed.'

Aisling doused a rag in drinking water then flung it at Dale. It hit his face with a wet slap. Startled to life, Dale made a grumbling noise and wiped his face.

'All this time down here and we've barely dug a pebble of ore. Those awful people from the Company will be back tomorrow. Heavens knows what they'll say,' said Flora.

'We'll muddle on through. We always do,' said Henry, with a weary voice. He pulled something from inside a layer of sacking cloth at his waist. Henry's gauntlet opened to reveal a brilliant glow of sunlight for a moment, before he turned and left again through the doorway. The others were too weary to question where he went, and instead climbed the stairs to rest.

This was, however, with the exception of Dale, who refused to leave his bedding. The miners sat down to eat lunch when Henry startled them with his arrival.

'The Company's coming! The trapdoor just opened and they will arrive soon.' Henry urged them to their feet. The others made to gather up their gear. 'Leave it all, come and help me gather sacks of ore I left to charge. I put them up while you slept.'

Amidst the grinding of chains and gears, the personnel lift made its descent, and the miners hurried to gather the bags of minerals and make it back to the chapel.

The lift crashed to the cavern floor. The metallic roar of machinery was cut short, along with the wailing gramophone, and there was the muted bellow of the Duchess' voice from within. The doors slammed open and the Duchess stepped forward, seething and crimson-faced once more, to the lift's entrance.

The Duchess produced a silver bell and gave it a jingle to announce her presence. It was a delicate sound as the lift's impact still echoed around the caverns.

'Don't keep her waiting! Go, take a sack each and stand smart in a line. They'll like that. Only speak when you're spoken to. Remember – not a word about me! You've never heard of a Henry Evans,' Henry urged.

Henry dipped inside a crate then caught Irene's arm. He handed her a copy of the worker's manual.

'Listen to me, Dale has no place down here. We don't want him here. He doesn't want to be here – even more than the rest of us. I've seen this before. You have to declare Article 51 against him,' Henry whispered.

Irene looked at the handbook where Henry opened it, with all its tiny print, numbered articles and bullet points. 'What does it say?' Irene asked.

'If everyone agrees that a worker is not suited for labour down here, and they're holding everyone back, then they can vote to have them sent to the surface. Everyone has to agree,' explained Henry with urgency in his voice.

'Alright, but what does it actually say? I... can't read,' said Irene.

From within his helmet, Henry looked at Irene long and hard. 'Neither can I,' he admitted. 'I'm sure that's what the rule was, and what number. Just try to make it look like you know what you're talking about. Now go!'

Along with Henry, the only ones still left in the chapel were Dale, and Aisling, who prodded him with her boot.

'Come on, you've got to go. You're going to get us all in trouble,' Aisling attempted to command Dale.