by Mark Hayden
‘There’s no signal down here,’ he said, ‘so we put an aerial on the top and use a booster. It’s how you can call to get someone to pick you up.’ He looked at Desi. ‘That way, you won’t have to wade out to the basin. I’ll just test it.’ He plugged in the box, switched it on and made a call. ‘Chief, it’s Lloyd. They’ve gone under. I’ll head off to the Smethwick foundry and wait for them to call me … No, no problems … Yeah. Talk to you later.’
Vicky and I exchanged glances. There was something going on here. Lloyd had gone back to the tarpaulin, from where he retrieved a metal box, a soft zip-up plastic case and an axe. A great big double-headed battle-axe. My hand went to the butt of my gun.
There was a leather harness attached to the head of the axe, and Lloyd made a point of carrying it by that, to show he wasn’t going to swing it at us. When he got closer, he put the items down, and I recognised the metal box. I let Lloyd explain himself first.
‘What did chief Wesley say about my father?’
‘That he and your father came down here looking for their father.’
‘Thought so,’ said Lloyd. ‘That’s true, actually. What he didn’t tell you was that my father was the older brother, and that he died down here. It never made it into the records, and we’re supposed to forget all about it. The dead chief – my grandfather – was laid to rest in the First Mine at midnight, with just a few of us to make the cairn. There is no cairn for my father.’
‘Does that make you the rightful clan chief?’ I asked.
Desirée gave me a pitying look. ‘It doesn’t work like that. Gnomes don’t do strict primogeniture. They choose from the late chief’s surviving brothers and heirs. You were too young, weren’t you, Lloyd?’
‘I was. I’m not now, and I’m coming with you.’
‘Or what?’ I said. Always useful to know what the stick is before you get to discuss the carrot.
‘Or you can open those doors yourself. After I’ve gone down on my own.’
‘Sounds good,’ I said. ‘You can weaken the enemy, then we’ll follow you down and finish it off.’
Desi span round to face me. ‘You wouldn’t! That would be evil.’
‘He would,’ said Vicky, not taking her eyes off Lloyd. ‘Squadron Leader Clarke doesn’t do good and evil, Desi. Not like you do. You’ll get used to it.’
Desirée was appalled. ‘What about you, Vic? Have you lost sight of good and evil, too?’ When her friend didn’t answer, she turned to me. ‘Pressgang him, like you did me. He can take the oath.’
‘That won’t work,’ said Vicky. ‘Gnomes are not loyal subjects.’
‘We’re not,’ said Lloyd. It was his patience that won me over. We’d gone head to head, and he hadn’t blinked once.
I spoke up. ‘The King’s Watch does not take Gnomes as officers, but it does take them as guides. Vic, have you got a tenner handy?’
Vicky took a ten pound note out of her pocket and held it out.
‘Guide and escort, bound by contract,’ I said. ‘How does that sound?’
‘Better than going down on my own.’ He was about to take the money when I held up my hand.
‘And I’ll take custody of the detonators, thanks.’
‘What?’ said Desi.
I pointed to the metal box. ‘That’s pelletised TNT. High explosive. The detonators will be in the case.’
Lloyd picked up the case and tossed it to me, then accepted the ten pound note with a bow. ‘Let’s get ready.’ He got his phone out again. ‘If you go to any other Dwarf but Hledjolf, their Hall messes your tech right up. I really would power off anything you can.’ He took his own advice and showed us the shutting down screen.
We stowed the gear and turned off our phones in silence. All I knew about what we’d face was that there would be a lot of Lux about: the doors told me that.
Dwarves are creatures of Lux. They have a sort of biology based on silicon, but without Lux they would just be lumps of stone, which is what happens to them when exposed to daylight. A Dwarf’s Hall isn’t just a home, it’s more of a living infrastructure that provides ambient Lux. Don’t ask me how. Don’t ask anyone how, because I don’t think anyone, even Hledjolf, truly understands. The presence of Lux would stop me getting a migraine if I left my Ancile powered on, which is good. Less good was that it also provided energy for whatever was down there.
‘Set?’ said Lloyd. I checked the others and nodded. He took out the disk again and said something in a harsh Germanic language. With grace and elegance, the doors swung slowly out. I took one last look at the sky, searching for a raven or any other sign. Desi started saying the Lord’s Prayer and Vicky kept her eyes firmly on the ground and clung to her lightstick like a drowning woman with a lifebelt.
Lloyd switched the grip on his axe to hold the haft, and runes lit up on the blades, red on one half and black light on the other. There was nothing more to say, so he led us through the doors and into who knows what. There was no raven, by the way. We’d be on our own down there.
21 — All ye who enter Here
We didn’t need the lightsticks at first. Not all of Niði’s smokeless, heatless torches were still working, but enough of them flickered into life for us to see our way down the passage.
Dwarvish art lined the walls in a series of friezes, all intricately carved or shaped. There is a dissertation to be made of those carvings, and maybe someone has, but we couldn’t linger. I took a moment to examine one panel, where a bearded Dwarf raised a tankard to a hopelessly out of scale Dragon.
Gnomes are all shorter than humans, and Dwarfs are even shorter. Mina would tower over Hledjolf if she ever met him, but in Dwarven art, the Dwarf is always the largest figure. Even larger than the Dragon. I lengthened my stride and caught up with the others.
The tunnel sloped down sharply, so sharply that a human engineer would have put steps in. Dwarves don’t do steps, because they push things around on trolleys or in mining carts. With their strength, no slope is too steep. The tunnel curved to the right, and Lloyd held up his hand. ‘The old Hall is round the corner. I’ve been a few times, and there’s never been anything there. Let me listen.’
He rested the axe on the ground and leaned towards the wall, touching it with his splayed fingers. ‘Still below. Slowly, now.’ He picked up the axe and edged round the corner. I had my hand on the Hammer. ‘Clear,’ he said, and swung the axe up to rest it on his shoulder.
Niði’s old Hall reminded me of a trip to the Mezquita at Cordoba in southern Spain. Instead of one great overarching high cavern, there were rows and rows of columns and arches. The stone blocks that made up the columns must have been cut and brought from somewhere else, because they weren’t limestone, and this hill is all limestone, which was why humans had built the canals. Niði had hollowed out a space, forming the roof and the arches out of the native rock, and then built up the pillars from imported stone to meet the capitols. It was beautiful and quite disturbing at the same time, because in a few places the pillars had been knocked away, and the rock above had collapsed. I could hear Vicky’s breathing getting shallower as the weight of the hill pressed down on her mind.
The Dwarf had clearly abandoned the Hall before he was attacked, because it was empty and disused. A few forges stood idle, covered in dust but clean and neatly arranged. There were stone tables, a couple of what looked like coffins (stone chests), and in several places there were red stains. Oh.
Lloyd pointed to one of them. ‘This is where my father and Wesley found their father.’ He pointed north west. ‘The door to the Wren’s nest is behind that rock fall. And the way down is over there. Due north.’
‘Excuse me,’ I said. ‘That can’t all be your grandfather’s blood, can it, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘Well it’s not Dwarf blood, is it?’ Dwarves don’t have haemoglobin, true, so the red stain wasn’t Dwarf … fluid, let’s say.
‘Vicky, could you tell, after all this time?’
‘Sorry? What?’
>
Desi put her hand on Vic’s shoulder, and I repeated myself. ‘Could you tell whose blood that is? Or even if it’s all Gnomish?’
‘Might do. There’s enough Lux to preserve some of the Imprint.’
She got out her sPad and squatted by the stains. She stared into the screen, then ran her fingers over the rock. She took a good look at Lloyd, then turned back to the rock. ‘This here, where Lloyd was pointing. That’s the blood of his grandfather. Or his father. Gnomes are hard to tell apart in the direct family line.’ She moved a little. ‘This here, that’s not Gnomish. Not enough iron. I’m getting a weird mixture. It’s very degraded, but I’m getting human, equine, and something else.’
‘Equine?’ said Desi. ‘Like a horse? Down here?’
Vicky stuck out a hand, and I helped her up. ‘Aye. I studied horses a lot on our last case, and I’m definitely getting the feel of something horsey. I can’t even tell if it was one creature or two. Either way, it didn’t die here.’
We hadn’t noticed, but Lloyd had raised his axe a few inches. When Vicky finished, he lowered it back again. ‘Thank the gods. For one second, I thought you were going to tell me that my father had died here. That would not have been good for the chief.’
‘What do you know about what happened?’
‘Wesley only told us once. He said that when they got down to the old Hall, the piles of coal were burning, and the chief’s body was still warm. My father ran down to the lower Hall while Wesley was still checking for a pulse, or so Wesley says. When Wesley went to the ramp down, he felt my father’s heart give out, and he retreated. If that’s true, I don’t blame him.’
Having something to do had helped calm Vicky down, and I seized the moment. ‘Let’s go.’
Lloyd led us down an arcade of columns, many of which were damaged with slashes and gouges. Not the random damage of an explosion, but something like a weapon. Two somethings, I reckoned. One was thin and sharper than diamonds, and had been wielded with huge strength. ‘Look,’ I said. ‘These marks. They’re too high for a Dwarf, but those, the gouges. They’re the right height.’
‘You’re right,’ said Lloyd. ‘I never thought. I’ve been on at the chief to get the Watch involved for years. Or another Clan. You’ve told me more in five minutes than I’d figured out in hours spent down here.’
‘Why didn’t he?’ said Vicky. ‘Why didn’t the chief get us down here? Was it just greed?’
Lloyd shook his head. ‘Fear, I reckon. Greed was the excuse, especially after Irina joined us, but deep down I reckon that Wesley simply doesn’t want to face up to whatever’s in the lower Hall.’
Now would have been a good time to ask about Irina. The only reason I didn’t was that Vicky was on a timer, and useful though the information might be, it would be of no use if she collapsed and we all got killed. I didn’t have time to change my mind, because Lloyd was already half way to the ramp.
The ramp to the lower Hall, or whatever it was down there, took a sharp turn to the left not long after we started down it. Lloyd stopped and fingered the wall. ‘We’re getting closer.’ Instead of moving on, he put down the axe, placed both hands on the wall and sniffed the rock. ‘Well I’ll be blowed,’ he said, in the thickest Black Country accent. He smiled and stepped back. ‘That’s the 30ft seam.’
‘Seam?’ said Desi.
Vicky and I had done our homework, and I let her speak. ‘A seam of coal. It’s not actually thirty feet wide, but you get the picture. It’s why the Black Country is black. They had it easy down here. My ancestors had to dig a lot deeper.’
‘This is deep enough,’ said Lloyd. ‘It runs down and under the limestone, and below that is haematite. Everything you need to make the best iron. God’s little gift.’
Desi was going to say something about God until she caught Lloyd’s eye. She made do with shaking her head, and Lloyd picked up his axe.
‘It’s dark ahead,’ he said ‘Lighting up time.’ Vicky had to show me how to activate my lightstick. Desi looked on, slightly appalled. She doesn’t think I’m Mage enough to be doing this sort of thing.
‘Spread out, I said. ‘You two behind me.’
The ramp got steeper, as if it were impatient to get to its destination, and then it ended in a landing.
Lloyd edged up to the arch and glanced in before stepping through. I had expected a straight tunnel, but beyond the arch it was like getting out of a hotel lift, with two tunnels, left and right, and Niði’s crest glowing in the middle of the opposite wall. Lloyd took out the disk and compared it to the wall.
‘There’s something different on this crest. No Valknut.’ He hefted the key. ‘And this isn’t in tune with the lower level. Niði must have done that for a reason.’
‘Which way?’ I asked.
Lloyd touched the wall, then the floor, then the wall again. ‘Something’s wrong. Whatever is down here is on this level, and the Dwarf is deeper still. But I can’t get a fix on it. It’s like the heartbeat is everywhere.’
We stood in the entrance to the new section, looking both ways. Neither tunnel was lit. ‘Desi? Which way? Pick one,’ I said.
She pointed right from the entrance, going north again. Lloyd headed off and we followed. This time I took the rear.
With no general light, we moved more slowly, and Lloyd took a couple of sonar readings that told him nothing, nor did the plain stone walls and flagged floor. We soon came to a side passage to the left, as featureless and clueless as the one we were on. Lloyd could just make out a turn to the right ahead. ‘Shall we try down here?’ he said. I shrugged, and we turned.
I tried to expand my Sight in the vain hope of finding something. I did find something. Something very wrong. ‘Stop!’
‘What?’
‘We’re still heading north.’
‘Still?’ said Desi. Vicky, who knows me better, was looking worried.
‘We’ve just made a ninety degree turn from a northerly passage, and we’re still heading north.’
‘We’re sitting on top of a vein of iron ore,’ said Lloyd. ‘Niði could have used it to confuse things.’
‘He could, but why? He hasn’t scrambled the compass, he’s made it dance to his tune. That must take a lot of energy.’
‘Keep a look out.’ Lloyd started stroking the walls and floor of the tunnel while we anxiously stared into the darkness. ‘I need to touch the roof.’
‘Seriously?’ said Desi. ‘You got a trampoline in that backpack?’
‘Not the middle. The edge will do. The walls and floor are faced with limestone. The roof is sandstone, and that has to be for a reason.’
The wall was about three metres high. Ten feet, if you prefer. I’m just under two metres tall, so I could see what was coming next. ‘Get on my shoulders.’
Lloyd didn’t waste time. I braced my back against the wall and linked my fingers to make a stirrup.
‘Do you have to have the axe on your back? That thing must weigh a ton.’
‘It does, but I need it, and it’s tied to my blood. No one else can pick it up, and if it’s not on my back, it might swing round and slice into you.’
‘Go on, then. Desi, Vicky, you keep watch.’
He put his foot in my hands, and I did my best to boost him up. It’s a good job he’s strong. He seemed to use the wall like Spiderman, dragging himself with his fingers when he was half way there, and then his feet were on my shoulders. Oww, that hurt. Really hurt.
‘Hold still, Conrad. I need to get the axe out.’
‘I’m as still as I can be. You need to diet more and work out less.’
He carefully took the axe off his back, leaned out an arm and swung it up to nick the roof with the black-runed head. When it touched the rock, a flash of light lit up the corridor, and Lloyd was thrown backwards. I tried to grab him to break his fall, but the flash had dazzled me, and he hit the ground with a thump.
‘Something’s coming,’ said Desirée, who’d been watching ahead.
‘Vicky,
help Lloyd. Desi, get down,’ I said, drawing the Hammer and going to one knee to Desi’s right. She looked bewildered for a second, and then she hit the deck. Behind me, I could hear Lloyd groaning and Vicky frantically asking him if he were okay. From the blackness ahead of me, I could see nothing, but I heard something. I heard metal-shod feet. Four of them, trotting towards us. That would be the equine contingent, then.
‘Desi, get to your knees and look behind. What’s happening?’
‘Lloyd’s sitting up. His arm’s hurt, I think. Nothing coming that way.’
‘Good.’
But there was something coming towards us.
‘Desi, power up one of the lightsticks, and on my word chuck it as far down the tunnel as you can. We’re sitting ducks here.’
‘Right.’
She took a lightstick, but instead of illuminating it, she just held it for a second. Then she stood up, took two steps back, ran forward and hurled it like a javelin, way faster and truer than a stick should fly. In mid-air, it burst into light. That was good. That was very good, unlike the horror it revealed.
‘Lord Jesus preserve us!’
‘Oh fuck.’
‘Mmmmm.’
‘Someone tell me what that thing is!’
I can tell you what it looked like. It looked like a nightmare horse, black with red eyes and a red hot, glowing spike of iron in the middle of its head. On its back was a humanoid figure that looked to be made of coal and burning itself from the inside out, smoke wisping from volcanic fractures in its skin. And it carried a black sword.
The horse pulled up in front of the lightstick.
‘En Svartálf,’ said Lloyd with horror in his voice, which was not a good sign.
‘And a Black Unicorn,’ said Vicky.
‘Hell-horse,’ said Desi. ‘Black does not always mean evil.’
I agree with her, as it happens. It’s a good job the horse and rider were stationary, though. This was not the time or place.
