Chapter 15 - Under the Mountain

by james attwood

Wisps of wind glided past Idris’s waist; their white streams somehow visible to the naked eye. He ran a finger through one of these passing trails, it wasn’t the wind he could see, but the thousands of dandelion seeds that rode it in harmony. He was stood in a meadow of wildflowers, a feast of colours emerging from the green that swayed in this gentle breeze. The setting sun almost blinded him until it descended behind the body of a familiar oak tree. I’m home, in Arfryn? Where the oak was once ashen and sapped of colour it now brimmed with life, stretching above the horizon further than it ever had. Arfryn indeed stood behind him, yet it too was cast with a new lease of life. Its cobbled walls were entwined with reaching ivy, endless flowers bedding its grounds in place of the original gravel and stone.

It was too perfect, even for the home he’d always missed. He found himself wondering if any of this were even real. Then he saw the old bench beneath the oak tree. Last time he’d seen it the bench was in its usual state of disrepair, left only as a novel frame for the hydrangeas to slowly claim. Yet here it was intact, repaired, new even. As the glare of the sun passed lower it framed the silhouette of a couple’s backs, sat enjoying the view. It can’t be.

            Idris strode over to the elderly couple and couldn’t believe his eyes as he saw their faces. Derwen and Merfyn were sat, hand in hand, admiring the sunset. He stood there for a moment, speechless to see his parents alive and happy.

            “Hello Idris.” A warm smile highlighted the wrinkles on his mother’s face, lines telling of a lifetime’s joy.

            “Mum?...Dad?” Idris gasped, looking into their eyes, hoping to discern whether they were genuinely his parents or some cruel illusion. They feel real. “How?”

            “He’s probably just as confused as we were.” Merfyn took his eyes away from the vista he’d been privy to most of his life and gestured for his son to come closer.

            Idris crossed his legs and sat on the grass, preparing himself for the answer to his next question, “Am I dead?”

            Derwen leaned over and assured him, “No, no. This isn’t real, not in the strictest sense.”

            “It could be.” Merfyn crooked an eyebrow, only confusing his son further.

            “So, what is this, am I dreaming? Are you...dead?”

            Merfyn closed his eyes and nodded a sombre nod, the reality seemed to still be new to them both. “It isn’t all that bad though, look at where we are. In the home we loved with the one we loved the most.”

            Idris, deflated somewhat, picked at the heavenly grass. “So, if you’re dead and I’m not, how am I seeing you? This is a dream isn’t it.”

            “Since I arrived here, in Annwn, I’ve learnt a great many things Idris. About myself, about all of us.” His mother spoke softly yet with a tangible curiosity, as if she were back on the edge of his bed telling him a story that fascinated them both alike. “The reason you’re here now is the gift of the sight.”

            Idris’s brow furrowed, what does that stuff have to do with me. “What do you...you mean like what Ceridwen and Taliesin have? Seeing the future?”

            “Yes, exactly.” Derwen was glad her son had some understanding already, there was a lot to unpack.

            “Well, not exactly.” Merfyn cut in, Idris was bewildered yet glad to see they still bickered back and forth even now. “It’s akin to prophecy, what you’re seeing is what might happen. The slightest thing could change the course and we may never actually speak like this.”

            Derwen let out a humph at the interruption, yet her husband was right. “So don’t consider this set in stone Idris.”

            “Just like what Myrddin did, swapping out Pryderi as a baby meant that his death would never come about as he’d foreseen?” Idris tried to make sense of it all though he could barely keep up, he wished he could just chat to his parents about more mundane matters, even now.

            “That’s right, see he knows plenty already without us.” Merfyn swelled with pride, though Derwen glanced at him with subtle dubiety, as if signalling there was some untruth to the topic at hand.

            “The same applies here, there may be a future where we never speak like this, at this time. Perhaps you’ll walk a different path.” Derwen tried to alleviate the anxiety she could see slowly forming in her son’s eyes. He could feel it now, some unspoken sadness undercut their every word.

            “Wait...” the conditions of their meeting dawned on Idris, “...so this means I’m currently seeing a vision of a conversation we may one day have in the future, but to have that conversation with my dead parents wouldn’t that mean I’d also have to be…”

            “As your mother said, it doesn’t have to be like this. Perhaps the very reason you’re seeing this is to help you avoid it.” Merfyn couldn’t bear to see his son’s hands quiver.

            “When does this happen? How do, how do I-” He stuttered through his frantic questions.

            “The sight is strong in some and weaker in others, what you’re seeing could be years from now, or even...” Derwen tried her best to placate her son as he stressed over his own fate.

            Idris studied his palms, they were bruised and scathed and missing a finger, yet still as young as he knew them to be. He wore the same clothes, yet his leather coat was missing, to part with that something truly must have gone awry. He reluctantly acknowledged his own deduction out loud, “Well I don’t look all that old, I’d err on the side of short sightedness.”

            His parents couldn’t muster any sentiments to the contrary and merely nodded. Derwen concluded, “Maybe this is the way it’s meant to be, maybe not. That’s for you to decide Idris.”

            “At least the others aren’t here, maybe I do get something right for once...wait, Hope and Fred!” Reality came crashing back to Idris in one sudden wave, he was holding onto that thatch roof amid the stormy ocean, clinging onto his niece and nephew for dear life. “I have to go back; I have to wake up!”

            He stood up and looked around frantically for a way out. Then some invisible force slapped him across the cheek. Stunned he looked over his shoulder for his assailant yet saw no one, then another elusive hand struck his other cheek. What’s going on!?

            “It looks like they need you back son.” Merfyn smiled and stood to his feet, patting Idris on the shoulder.

            “I don’t want to go guys, there’s so much more I want to-” He couldn’t bear to be torn from his parents so soon, though deep down he understood this was an uncertain future, for all he knew a fantasy of his own creation.

            “We’ll talk again Idris, don’t you worry.” Derwen placed her hand around his other arm.

            The flare of the sun seared the very scene itself, slowly obscuring his parents from view. In the distance, by the house, he could make out one last figure through squinting eyes. Hunched down they were picking a flower; its petals were pink to match the streaks in their hair. Before Idris could call his sister’s name he felt himself being tugged back to the present. The soft warmth slowly faded from his skin, replaced by the cold embrace of winter, under him a coarse grittiness he couldn’t see. With another slap his home vanished entirely, and he finally opened his eyes, seeing a panicked Hope stooped over him.

            “Wake up! Uncle Idris wake up!” She lifted her hand once more before she realised he was awake. Relieved, she shouted to her brother who brooded not far from them, “He’s alive Fred!”

            Fred sprang to Idris’s side when he heard him coughing and sputtering with stale sea water. The two of them had been worrying over their unconscious uncle for some time, and the mounting stress of their night had become all too much for Fred even when his sister endeavoured on. The night had passed though, they’d ridden the collapsing rooftop across perilous coast for hours, only to be cast under by a freak wave not far from this desolate shore. They’d washed up on a pebbled beach amongst the debris of their life raft, sodden and exhausted yet miraculously alive. The sea had calmed, the periodic rasps of its foamy waves the only sound in this desolate cove apart from the seagulls that flocked above.

            “We survived?” It took a while for Idris to come back to his senses, the shore was so calm now he could almost believe he’d woken up back in the Wales he knew.

            “We did!” Hope exclaimed as her uncle slowly got to his feet, “I don’t know how but we did.”

            “How long was I out?” He scratched at his head, feeling guilty to be the last one to come to.

            “Three weeks!” Fred teased, grinning devilishly at the wide-eyed response it elicited from his uncle.

            “No it wasn’t!” Hope chastised her brother, “Half an hour maybe? We thought you might never wake up.”

            “It felt like weeks...” Fred’s tone changed along with his sisters, their excitement slowly wearing off.

            “Ah I’m sorry guys, I don’t know what happened when that wave hit...” Things had indeed been a blur as far as their voyage was concerned, and there had been a time when Idris feared they’d never see dry land again. “I’m just glad you two are alright. You’re both okay right?”

            “Mhm.” Hope mumbled. By this point none of them looked anywhere close to the definition of alright, but she understood what he meant.

            Fred stared at the floor and nodded, a response that didn’t quite satisfy his uncle. Idris squatted and tried to see his shying face, “You sure you’re okay buddy?”

            Fred would never cry in front of others, he’d never show any weakness, yet when he looked up his eyes bawled with restrained tears. “What happened back there? Is everyone dead? Did we escape and leave everyone else behind to drown with that monster?”

            Idris was taken aback, he hadn’t had time to process events, yet Fred and Hope had been here alone with their thoughts for some time. He shook his head in admission as he realised he had no answers to offer, “I... I don’t know.”

            Silence befell the trio on the beach for a moment, each of them pondering the fates of the others, until a responsibility dawned on Idris. These kids are in utter shock and you’re the only guy around who can do anything about it. He realised, for better or for worse, he was responsible for them now. He wouldn’t see his niece and nephew, who’d brought so much joy to his own life, despairing on the beach, dwelling on the unknown.

            “That’s enough of that, of this moping around.” They both looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “Last I saw, your mum and dad, Maeve, Gelert, they were all up in that tower. Pretty high up if you ask me. I think they were safer from whatever washed over that city than we were. Lewis and Orson, Lewis and Orson...” He paced about trying to remember, more so than just visions it seemed his time unconscious had fogged his memories of actuality. Then it all came back, he’d been playing the part of diversion, leaving his brother and nephew in the mud. “You...you got them out right?”

            The children glanced at each other, sharing a mutual fear of the last they’d seen of Orson and his father. Hope gulped and tearfully explained, “We couldn’t-we couldn’t pull them out. We tried, we really tried but...”

            Idris slumped back to the ground, deflated. Hope continued to emphasise that they had tried everything, that they’d slipped through despite their every effort. Her uncle ought to be inconsolable at this point, like them, yet he seemed lost in thought more than emotion. Idris felt the disconnect himself, he should be sobbing at the loss, yet his thoughts rested thoroughly on the dream he’d just awoken from. Whether it was truly a window into the Annwn of the future or just some fantasy conjured by his concussed brain, he couldn’t help but focus on who was present, and who wasn’t. Lewis, Orson, neither of you were there. Neither of you died back there.

            “I think they’re alive...” Idris came back to himself, deciding to hinge his belief on this ‘sight’ more so than he would like. Perhaps he was just lying to himself to avoid an uncomfortable truth, yet he’d do so all the same to spare Hope and Fred’s guilt. “I don’t know how, call it intuition or a feeling, I just know in my gut that they’re still out there.”

            “But how could they possibly...” laboured breaths still interrupted Hope’s every word, the moment still lingered like a bad memory on repeat, “...you didn’t see Orson’s face just, disappear...”

            “There’s no use in thinking they’re gone. I don’t know about you, but I refuse to believe it until I see it.” Idris stood up, defiant of the grief they’d suffered. “You can’t blame yourselves for how it went down, you guys did everything you could...we all did. Now stop crying or I’m going to start crying and then it’ll be a whole thing.”

            Hope wiped at her cheeks with a tattered sleeve. Even her colourful clothes were now muted by the damp and grime, but her dimpled smile couldn’t be tarnished. She softly agreed with an adamant nod, “Okay.”

            “But what about auntie Aria?” Fred brought up their aunt’s sacrifice, the catastrophe she’d brought about to save them, a catastrophe they all knew too well she couldn’t have escaped.

            Idris let out a frustrated sigh, his answer was less convincing than what he’d put forth before. “I don’t know Fred, that was...” flashes of his vision came back to him as he struggled to deny her fate, “...it was nasty. But what she did, she did to save us right? We’ve got to remember that.”

            The tears barely subsided as their inexperienced uncle floundered to alleviate them yet Hope moved in for a hug between Fred and Idris, and together the trio embraced until those tears had stopped all together.

            “If I was your mother and father right now I’d be scared to death that my children were cast away with their stupid uncle Idris.” Idris smiled down at them as tensions eased, “So I think I should try and get you two back to them safely, let them know you’re alright. Only question is which direction...” He turned and stared at the ominous mountain range that loomed large in the distance, its highest peak piercing the low-lying cloud. They’d been washed all the way back north, back to the foot of Gwyddfa Rhita and its brethren. “We could make a run for the oak tree...but I don’t have the ring...”

            “Dad said we should all head back to that witches house, Cer something, the one you met?” Fred piped up now that they were moving forward, standing idle had never sat well with him.

            “Good shout, if we all needed to meet back up I’d say that’s a safe spot. That was near Llyn Tegid, in the woods not far from the mountain. Hey, you’ll get to meet Blod.” Idris was already excited with the prospect. He tried to eye the mountainous terrain yet there was little to see from the lowly cove. Steep cliff walls boxed them into this isolated shoreline with no sight of a way up, yet ahead lied the desolate remains of some disused quarry.

            “I explored a little whilst you were away with the fairies. The whole cliff face has crumbled away but there’s a way into the mine, I didn’t look too far.” Fred gave his lay of the land with some trepidation, the crumbling quarry looked like a particularly dangerous prospect.

            “Sounds like a plan. Delve into the quarry, search for a way topside, go to Ceridwen’s where everyone else will be waiting for us, then go home. We can do this.” Idris spoke with a comedic confidence even though he trembled inside, he could only hope the path back to Ceridwen’s was safe. Together they ambled towards the shell of this quarry, a worn out if not optimistic trio.

            Stepping back into the shade of some disused ruin so soon after having left Cantre’r Gwaelod was an unsettling experience, yet the quarry seemed strangely inviting. Past its ominous entrance what remained within was a museum of curiosities, rusted tools and abandoned contraptions littered the chamber they stooped into, each a layer of dust away from telling some story of this tomb’s industrious past. It was a reminder that this land belonged not only to monsters and myth, but to men who strived to survive amidst it all.

The hollowed-out hall eventually diverged into two dim shafts, and in turn those passages intertwined and split into many more beyond. It was clear this network ran deep. Not five minutes of cautious exploration by the light of a waning flashlight assured them they could easily become lost. Even accounting for the trails that stopped against carved out cave walls, or even those that had collapsed, they still had a handful of routes to choose from with no clear direction. Lost in a mine without a map, Idris found himself wishing Aria were here to navigate for him. Why did you have to go and be a hero?

            “You lost are you?” A thick accent grumbled out from somewhere unseen, somewhere close by.

            The torch flicked here and there in Fred’s hands, in search of the disembodied voice, though it revealed nothing. Idris staggered in front of the children, hoping he was between them and whoever called out. “Who’s there!?”

            A match sparked to their side and lit a small, thoroughly melted, wax candle. Sat in its little cubby hole was a tiny creature, barely a foot tall, that flickering candle stuck to the dome of its dented metal helmet. At a glance it might have been human, a miniature old man in quaint miners’ garb, though its proportions sided more on the outlandish. Knobbly arms and legs hung from its wrinkly body, atop which sat a head that was practically a third of its entire size. Between the low brim of its cap and the bristles of its grey bushy beard few of its features could be seen, though a bulbous nose stopped that helmet from falling any further.

Illuminated for all to see the little man’s broad whiskers ruffled as it answered, “Me.”

            “And who’s that?” The gnome like creature’s appearance had taken Idris by surprise, it was the last thing he’d expected to encounter in this derelict place.

            “Well, I’m a coblyn.” The tiny man’s gravely tone carried a ways, as if the stone itself was talking.

            Idris shifted warily, though the children seemed none too bothered by its presence. “Like a goblin?”

            “Oh please, do I look like a goblin to you?”

            Idris hesitated to respond, though his contemplative face said it all.

            “Well, I’m not!” The coblyn barked, offended to be lumped in with such mischievous beasts. He waved a bony finger their way, “I’m beginning to realise you lot don’t belong down here at all.”

            “He’s one of the coblynau!” Hope tugged at her uncle’s arm though the word rang no bells for him. She stepped forward and decided it best to address the little man herself, “You’re right though mister, we are lost.”

            The coblyn enthusiastically nodded as if Hope had finally started speaking his language, “Ah this one has her head on straight!”

            “Hold on there little guy.” Idris held out one hand as he still tentatively kept Hope from approaching. In a private huddle he asked her in hushed tones, “Hope what’s a... coblyn?...what’s a coblyn’s deal, can we trust him?”

            “Yes!” Hope expressed with confidence, though it quickly fell as she thought on the matter. “Well, I think so. Maeve mentioned them after the bwbachs, said they weren’t so different. They help miners find the richest veins of ore, and you know, we are lost!”

            Idris pondered their options, they were very much lost and in need of direction, but if this little coblyn meant them any harm he’d be luring them right into it. He thought about his sister and brother’s parenting skills, feeling out of his depth, how do you do this on a daily basis? Hope stared at him, wide eyed with expectancy. He relented, “Fine, talk to the weird tiny man.”

            Delighted, Hope sprang to the coblyn’s side and began to explain their predicament, how they needed to find a way to the surface. “I know we’re not miners, and that we’re not looking for ore, but you must know your way around this place right? Could you point us in the right direction?”

            “Well, you’d be right there. I know this place like the back of my hand, even though I’ve no one to guide these days.” The coblyn seemed wistful of times passed, he glanced around imagining the life and work these depths once brimmed with.

            “Where is everybody?” Fred picked up on the old man’s remorse, it was like conversing with a veteran no longer needed in his field.

            “Packed up and left, those that could. Stories of ghosts and monsters wailing in the dark saw to that. With nobody to guide we coblynau decided to go back, back to Annwn of course.” He removed his heavy-set helmet and straightened the curly wisps of his frayed eyebrows, the glint of pinprick auburn eyes barely visible before the brows curled back on themselves.

            “You’re from Annwn? Like the lady of the lake.” Hope buzzed; she was glad she’d paid attention to her sister now.

            “That we are, not that I’ve ever had the honour of meeting such nobility.” His words were still coarse yet were gentler now that he was rattling away his story, perhaps he’d been alone for a while. “Not that we could go back. We dug into the earth, in search of our old passages, but were thrust back into this world at every attempt. So here I am, stuck in this old rock with no purpose.” He stuck his cap back on with gusto and held his head high, “Until now of course! We’ll see you through these mines safely missy.”

            Much to the subversion of his rousing call to action, the coblyn barely moved at all. He simply reached a small hammer from his tool belt and tapped away at the rock beside him, three distinct taps.

            Idris, none too impressed, began to ask, “And?”

            The coblyn remained silent, holding out a finger to ask for silence or patience, or both. Eventually another three taps echoed in response from down the passage, much to the coblyn’s elation. “Ah these walls still sing like it were yesterday!”

            “What was that?” The after sound resonated from the pitch black for a while, like the lingering jingle of some far-off wind chime.

            “That was a friend, judging by the tune...” the coblyn held a hand to his ear, “...he’s a hundred and four feet from here, down the left passage at the fork.”

            “You can tell all that just from tapping the wall?” Fred was impressed at the skill on display.

            “You bet. These walls speak to us like dear old friends, you just need to know what to listen out for.” He knocked three more times then holstered his old hammer again. “Right, I’ve told them where you’re headed and which way to take you. Listen out for those knocks in the dark and they won’t steer you wrong.” Those three taps echoed back once more, bounding off the walls that offered some inexplicable sense of acoustic direction.

            “Thank you so much!” Hope beamed, sure of the way they’d have to proceed next. She’d taken a single step away when she turned and thought, “How can we repay you?”

            “Oh no need, no need!” He waved his hand once more, the gestures of his twitching moustache and exaggerated hands forming the basis of his emotion without a face to read. “Us coblynau are content with just seeing folk safely through these rickety confines.”

            “Speaking of which, you mentioned ghosts? Monsters?” Idris held the eager children back one last time.

            “That I did. Some rumblings in the dark spooked the old workmen something chronic.”

            “Rumblings?”

            “Rumblings. Could be anything mind you, there’s stories of all manner of beasts dwelling down here, even dragons! If I were a betting coblyn though, I’d say it’s that old giant back from the dead, kicking up a fuss as he always did. The miners all said it started under the mountain, right where he was buried.”

            “Rhita Gawr...” Idris murmured the name, a name he couldn’t forget because he’d climbed his fabled cairn countless times back in his Wales. He’d entered this land with a sense of wonder at its possibilities, yet now those possibilities filled him dread.

            “Ah so he does know a thing or two!” The coblyn remarked, though he beckoned Idris closer for his next warning. “I’m sure you know as well as I that this whole world has been upside down for a while now. Something’s throwing us humble folk back from Annwn, stands to reason it might have done the same for others. If it is him, you stay as far away as you can. He may have made a habit of ripping the beards from the faces of men, but he only did such a thing to scare the women and children more so before he-” the coblyn saw Hope and Fred inching closer and snapped to a far less ominous tone, “Nothing for you to worry about though, we’ll steer you clear of there and out the miner’s entrance on Gwyddfa Rhita’s edge.”

            Idris solemnly nodded, and with the others offered some final words of thanks.

            “We should be thanking you; we finally get to work once more!” He tipped his helmet to them as they wandered into the dark, making sure they were on the right trail before he nestled back into a comfy spot and dimmed his candle.

            They navigated the endless mines for what seemed like hours, from one helpful coblyn to the next. Each was as friendly and talkative as the last, though the deeper they tread into this place the more wary they became of chatting for too long. Easy to follow cart tracks often vanished under rubble or over the deep cut of chasms, forcing some arduous detours, yet as long as they could hear those three distinct taps they were never lost to this labyrinth. They must have passed dozens of their guides by the time they arrived at their destination, several miles deep into the mountains. Encountering fresh air at this point seemed impossible, yet lo and behold they stepped out into a wide-open cavern, and at its edge was the relieving sight of open sky. More prominent however were the two enormous oxen that stood before them, each of them baying and grunting at their presence.

            A thick wrought iron chain bound them to each other, though it had seemingly coiled around the central pillar of this space, tying them in their place. A sneeze from Fred sent them into a panic. Each pulled in opposing directions, hoping to escape but oblivious of their predicament. Even so, the beasts were so powerful that the very mine seemed to groan under the strain of their efforts. Soon they grew tired however, and each slumped to the floor with a booming thud, backs to each other in protest of one another’s company. They were far larger than any cow they’d ever seen, their curving horns a metre long at least, and their bulky bodies covered in thick matted fur. With the oxen well and truly stuck, they decided to safely skirt the edge of this chamber and explore.

            It soon became oddly familiar to Hope and Fred, as if it were somewhere they’d been before just cast in a different light. Dashing closer to the open end Fred finally realised exactly where they were.

            “It’s the old miners lodge!” He announced, pointing out of the wide crack that opened the cavern to the wintery elements. Sure enough, ahead of them lay the same cabin they’d rescued Maeve from not two days prior. He gawked at the precarious archway he stood underneath, “This is where the entrance was but it’s...much bigger now...”

            “You can thank our two friends over here for that!” A snooty voice rang from behind them, sat in an alcove was another coblyn they hadn’t yet noticed. “Barged their way in here like they were desperate, surprised the whole place didn’t come down!”

            Seeing another of these creatures Hope stepped back inside the shelter, “Hello there, sorry we didn’t notice you.”

            “No apology needed, as far as I’ve been told this is as far as you lot needed to come.” He hunched forward and hung his legs from the shelf of his hole.

            Hope looked at the dejected oxen, impressive beasts drained of any pride they might have once had. “Why would they run in here?”

            “Haven’t a clue. Broke through the entrance as if it were nothing so something must have scared them! Next thing you know the dumb animals have tangled themselves something rotten around that pillar and they can’t break free.” The grumpy coblyn didn’t seem to share Hope’s sympathy for the oxen, his guests had seen him lose many an hour’s sleep and he was keen to be rid of them. “Whole place is made of the same old rock, don’t know why that pillar of all things would be giving them trouble.”

            “I’ll be damned...” Idris came closer to the exhausted beasts, pondering whether the fragments of his mother’s stories he remembered were what he was in fact seeing before his very eyes. “I think they might be Peibiaw and Nynniaw.”

            “Who?” Fred stepped in from the flurry of snow.

            “Uh two lords, I think, from one of those old stories.” Idris scratched his head as he attempted to recall the details. “They’d squabble over anything. Who had the best cattle, who owned which field, anything. Problem was they lived under the rule of this big mean giant, Rhita Gawr. He eventually got so tired of them fussing over everything, I mean who should own anything but the mighty giant right, that he marched on their land and turned them both into oxen using magic.”

            “Like Blodeuwedd?” Hope enquired, she still wished to see this lady of flowers in the flesh.

            “Yeah I guess.”

            “But how do you know this is them...” Fred was curious where this was going.

            “Well, they weren’t just normal oxen. Rhita Gawr was ever the pragmatist, so he wouldn’t turn them into any old cows he could find elsewhere. They were meant to have supernatural strength when they pulled together, but apart they were weak. His twisted method of encouraging them to work together I guess.” Idris found himself rambling but was surprised by just how much had stuck with him over the years, he decided it best to come to his point, however. “Anyway, look at them. They charged right through that wall together but now that they’re apart, facing different ways, they can’t cut it.”

            “Aw no, they used to be people!?” Hope frowned and looked to Idris, “You don’t think they’ll starve do you.”

            “Who knows. Come on though, we need to get to Ceridwen’s.” Idris shrugged and turned to leave, but Hope planted her feet on the spot. “What?”

            “We should help them.” She solemnly stated, doe eyed at their struggle.

            “They were hardly innocent when they were people Hope.” Idris dismissed the idea and feigned another step, but his niece wouldn’t follow.

            “You wanted to help Blodeuwedd!” Hope protested, “Pleeease!”

            “That was diff-” Idris cut himself short when he realised it may not have been so different after all. Lost, he turned to his nephew, “Fred?”

            “I...” Fred tussled with the dilemma, swaying as if he were being physically tugged between Idris and Hope. On one hand he couldn’t bear to go against his uncle, a man he’d always looked up to as a child, then again he felt his sister was in the right here. Before he gave himself a headache he fell on his decision, “I think Hope’s right. So many people have helped us survive whilst you were gone, and I think maybe we should return the favour, even just a little. Plus, it would be a way of saying thanks to the coblynau if we got these two out of their hair.”

            “Thank you!” The miserable coblyn offered his praise for the idea.

            Idris’s nephew’s defiance caught him by surprise, they’d never disagreed on anything since as long as he could remember. Their favourite dinosaur, their favourite games, they’d always been kindred spirits. They’re both right, bless them, but why do I feel like this is such a big decision. Perhaps he was being overly protective he thought, after all their journey through the mines had been hassle free, what would one last hurdle be. He was sure Zoe, Raymond, Lewis, and Cara had all perfected their ways of saying no to the children, but alas it was a skill Idris had still yet to master. He groaned, “Fiiine.”

            “Yay!” Hope smiled ear to ear, she couldn’t wait to tell her parents how she’d convinced her brother and uncle to save the magical oxen.

            The three of them locked eyes with the dejected animals as they tried to hatch a plan. “Right, this should be easy enough.” Idris said, eager to have this out of the way as soon as possible so that he could see his nephew and niece back to his sister safely. “You two keep the chap who’s facing the entrance’s attention, make sure he doesn’t get jittery.”

            “Is that Nynniaw or Peibiaw?” Hope quizzed.

            Idris, thinking she was joking, offered a delayed answer. “Well, I’ve never met them before, and well, now they’re two identical oxen, so I have no idea. Let’s say Peibiaw.” He shook his head in disbelief, “It doesn’t matter, whilst you’re keeping...Peibiaw happy I’ll shoo Nynniaw around. Might take a while but that chain isn’t looped too many times.”

            They both nodded, confident shepherding these two behemoths couldn’t be too difficult. In front of the supposed Peibiaw, Hope and Fred began to softly speak to it, cautiously stretching a hand out to stroke its tangled fur. Whether out of exhaustion or friendliness, the ox seemed none too bothered by their presence. Much to Idris’s dismay the ox on the opposite side of the pillar shared the same docility. He pushed and heaved at its hind quarters attempting to rouse any reaction out of it, yet still it sat, immovable. Even a flick to its floppy ear only yielded an unamused grunt.

            “Come on Nynniaw, do you have to be such a pain in the arse. Shift will you!” Idris quickly became as knackered as his one-ton obstacle. With a last ditch effort, he placed both hands on its side and pushed as hard as he could. Exasperated he wheezed, “Move Nynniaw...or should I say Peibiaw...”

            At the mention of Peibiaw the beast suddenly jolted to its feet and began to trot begrudgingly to the side, circling back to the ox at the front. Hope and Fred tried not gawk as they noticed their uncle nudging the beast profusely to get it loop around behind. Before long it had picked up its pace and it had come full circle once more. Idris let off for a moment to glance at the chain which wrapped around the pillar, he’d still need to coax this ox around a few more times. As he wearily resumed the effort a tickling sensation began to overcome Fred’s cold little nose. Whether it was the fur he’d brushed at or the cold they’d been enduring for hours, he found himself holding back another sneeze. The reflex had already set in however, and with a whip of his head he let out an echoing sneeze.

            ACHOO!

            As if a gunshot had rung out behind them the oxen riled into a frenzy. They both pulled yet this time they strove to run in the same direction. With their might combined the pillar warped and cracked, and with an explosion of dust and rock the chain pulled free, clean through the column itself. The children dove out of the way as the beasts’ stampeded forwards, the weighty links of the chain dancing uncontrollably in between them. Their shoulders bounced off the walls as they strode through the gaping hole from which they’d forced their way in.

            “Are you okay!?” Idris rushed to the children, clambering over the rubble the beasts had so brazenly created.

            “I’m fine, I’m...” Hope was shocked at how quickly the animals had turned, but she and her brother were unscathed.

            “I’m sorry, I can’t stop sneezing.” Fred frustratedly wiped his nose.

            “Hey, don’t worry about it.” Idris looked to the two oxen who’d abruptly stopped in a stupor outside of the old lodge, as if they were confused themselves as to how they’d arrived there. “Looks like it did the trick if you ask me.”

            As Idris helped them to their feet he heard an unnerving crack from above, then another. He looked above to see a jagged fissure criss-crossing its way from where the pillar had touched the ceiling, each stretch it carved resonating as if gargantuan bones were breaking above.

            “Get back from there!” The coblyn warned from the depths of the cavern.

            A sheet of rock sheered clean from the cave roof and slammed to the floor, shaking its foundations as Idris shoved the children to the back of the chamber. More and more slabs parted from the walls they’d so tenuously been a part of as each cascade of stone triggered another. Soon the violent avalanche of shale subsided, reduced to the trickling bounces of smaller debris dashing down the mess of broken rock. As the dust settled the three of them tried to survey the damage yet there was no daylight to illuminate their view. Fred flicked his torch on and shone it ahead. Not a single glimpse of the outside could be seen, as all that remained was the pile of rubble that cascaded from ceiling to floor.

            “No, no, no!” Idris cursed their fate as he began to dislodge rock after rock. The others tried to help, but it appeared well and truly sealed.

            The light taps of a hammer rang from behind. “There’s thirty feet more to shift, you’ll be here for days.” The coblyn groused behind them, he looked on in a huff, as if they were vandals in his home.

            “Dammit!” Idris furiously launched a stone at the wall. He’d been so close to getting them all out of here, so close, only to see it come crashing down because of a pair of foolish cursed men from a childhood story. Stupid.

            “I’m sorry we demolished your cave mister.” Hope felt awful, that she should have left the oxen alone.

            The coblyn merely reclined in his crudely chiselled out hole in a mood.

            She looked at the others and hoped they’d accept her apologies, “I’m sorry guys.”

            “As long as we’re okay right.” Fred nervously suggested, slightly wary of just how downtrodden his uncle suddenly appeared.

            Idris, hands on his knees, took a moment to recover his breath. “It’s...it’s fine...we’re good.” He staggered, coated in sweat and dust, to the coblyn and placed an arm on his shelf. Leaning in close he asked, “There has to be another way right?”

            The coblyn tipped his cap and stared at him with his beady eyes, as black as coal. “There’s always another way.”

            “Well?”

            “There’s a jaunt that’ll see you come out opposite the lodge you just blocked off, old construction path that, never used much even when these tunnels were populated. You won’t like it though.” The coblyn abandoned his arrogance and shuffled forwards, to speak sincerely. After all, it was in his nature to help those in need. “It’s a longer trek than it sounds, you’ll be needing to head down before you can come back up, on the old pulley lift. Don’t worry, it was made for hauling tons of slate, it’ll more than hold your weight.”

            “How deep?” Idris uttered; he was almost certain what this meant.

            “Deep, deep down to where giants sleep.”

            Idris sighed; the coblyn had confirmed his every worry. It was as if the little gnome had proven that he’d squandered his second chance at life thus far, that his vision was destined to become a reality.

            “Are we going Uncle Idris?” Fred prodded, fearful now that they were boxed into the dark.

            His uncle slowly rocked his head from a sedate lull to an enthusiastic nod. “Yeah, we’re going down. Look at how far we’ve come already guys, what’s one more hurdle?” He turned to the coblyn, “If it’s the only way then it’s the only way. If you would be so kind.”

            The coblyn crooked his head in agreement and set to knocking at the wall with his hammer, and soon three taps responded. Idris, Fred, and Hope trudged on, sure that this would just be more of what had come before. Just one more walk through the mines.

            What’s one more hurdle.