Prue thought he was right. Why shouldn’t they have more freedom? Wasn’t that what she was trying to do with her memory machine?

“But I suppose we have been given chances,” said Edwin. “Look at me; you took me on as the first apprentice personifate.”

“Indeed, so you, of all personifates, have had a taste of the possibilities.”

A glimpse of the rising sun appeared between the clouds and shone between the tree trunks, casting bands of light on the forest floor.

“Have you tried talking to the Governor or Master Woolstenbury about these concerns? Perhaps Master White?” suggested Edwin.

“Come now, I had you both down as bigger thinkers. Especially you, Apprentice Haywood. Your memory research is groundbreaking.”

Prue paused. How did he know about her research? Then it hit her. “You took my journal?”

Craftsman Primrose stopped walking and smiled. “Let’s say, borrowed. I’d suspected you were working on something for a while with all your questions on memory.”

“Master Woolstenbury doesn’t know about it, does she?” she said, panicked.

“Of course not. But it did confirm for me that the three of us could work on some great projects together. We have a chance to really change things for the better.”

They carried on walking; they were deep into the forest now.

Prue’s mind felt as though it had suddenly become a whirlpool. Did Craftsman Primrose know she wasn’t Frances? “Where are we going?” Prue asked.

“I’m going to show you the first project we’ll be working on together. It’s not far now.”

The trees thinned, and large crooked shapes loomed beyond.

“Is that a village?” Prue asked.

“It was, long ago, but nobody has lived here in many years.”

They stepped from the treeline and looked below. A dozen or so ivy-strangled buildings huddled together, most barely standing, with crumbling brickwork and tumbledown roofs. A few were more intact and had been reinforced and repaired. An old well was in the centre and there were clusters of broken carts and machinery littering the moss-covered cobblestones.

“It’s taken a while to make it into a workable environment, but as long as it serves its purpose.”

“Purpose?” said Edwin.

“Come along, I can’t wait to show you.” Craftsman Primrose grinned.

An eerie silence clung to the village as they walked towards the largest building.

“I think it was the old village hall,” Craftsman Primrose said. He unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Prue’s leg muscles turned to liquid at the sight inside, as though she had fallen headfirst into a nightmare.

“This, my friends, is my army of stag-men. One-hundred of them, to be precise.”