by Mark Hayden
‘Slumming it?’
‘Would I be working for the parish council if I could get a job with Price Waterhouse?’
‘If you didn’t have a conviction for fraud, dear, I’m sure you’d be running Price Waterhouse by now.’
Mina turned her nose up and maintained a dignified silence until a maroon people carrier pulled in to the car park and Lloyd got out of the passenger side. He still wasn’t driving, then, but he’d added a short prosthetic to his left arm. He was wearing a sweatshirt, and a metal prong stuck out of the sleeve, a bit like a giant tuning fork.
Lloyd is a Gnome of Clan Flint. Not just that, he’s the Clan Second and he co-opted me to be the Clan’s Swordbearer during our last encounter. He also cut off his own left arm at the elbow. Gnomes are master Artificers, and I’m sure magick will furnish something more impressive than the prong one day.
Gnomes are long lived and will get through a lot of wives. Lloyd was still on his first, Anna, and he trusted her more than any of his clan. I’d met her, briefly, and she got out of the car with scowl.
‘He didn’t say who you was last time,’ she pronounced. ‘If I’d known it was you, I’d’ve give you a piece of my mind.’
Anna is a good head taller than Lloyd. A striking woman in many ways, and possessed of a fine Black Country accent. Saffron was already frowning as she tried to understand her.
Anna wasn’t finished yet. ‘Last time you took Lloyd down the mine, he come back with only one arm. Try not to let it happen again.’
‘I won’t. I will. Of course.’
‘And if he does get summat lopped off, mek sure it’s his head, then I can examine it, ’cos he needs his head examined.’
Mina bowed and brought her hands together. ‘Namaste.’
Anna sniffed and turned away from me. ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Anna.’
‘I’m Mina. Would it be possible for you to take a couple of bags? Just until we’re done.’
‘Of course, duck. I’ll load ’em up.’
‘We can’t use the front entrance,’ said Lloyd when Saffron’s luggage was stowed and Anna had driven off. ‘I’m sure that Irina or the Clan have put cameras on the tunnel to Niði’s Hall, but they don’t know about his new door. It didn’t take him long to get online and buy a phone, you know. It’s not far to walk. Five minutes, max.’
Niði the Dwarf has been out of circulation for thirty years, trapped in his own Hall. During that time, a Persian Mage called Irina had infiltrated Clan Flint, and was our prime suspect for the money laundering. Irina had also sprayed my head with acid, so you could say we all had a score to settle.
As we walked along, Lloyd wasn’t entirely happy that Mina wouldn’t share her findings yet. I gave him a look and said, ‘Lloyd, she hasn’t shared them with me or the Constable either. She’s a perfectionist when it comes to data.’
He turned his attention to Saffron. ‘Are you one of the Hawkins clan?’
She looked a little nervous, but held her own. This was the first time she’d met a Gnome, and they can be intimidating. Especially to women. ‘We’re a family, not a clan. And we’re not mafia, either. Some of us happen to be Mages, that’s all.’
‘Your mother is the top Occulter working in private practice. Your first cousin once removed is the Custodian of the Great Work at Salomon’s House. And that’s just the headlines. I’d say you were pretty connected.’
That was too much for Saffron. She looked down and blushed. Mina wasn’t having that. ‘Give her a break, Mr Flint. It’s bad enough for her that she has to work with Conrad, never mind you having a go, too.’
‘I’m used to it,’ said Saffron, ‘but thanks anyway.’
‘How’s the clan?’ I said.
‘Difficult,’ said Lloyd. ‘Wesley has doubled down and refused to admit he did anything wrong. There’s nothing I can do unless I call him out over it. My brother is all for taking him on. It doesn’t help that Niði has locked himself in again and won’t take sides or give testimony. It’s a good job he bought that phone, or I’m not sure how we’d have got to see him.’ He turned back to Mina. ‘Do you really need to see Niði and only Niði? Can’t Hledjolf help?’
‘No,’ said Mina. She added a smile to soften it a little.
It felt weird to be talking to a Gnome about a Dwarf while we walked along an everyday footpath in the bright sunshine. We climbed a slight rise and a wisp of wind brought a waft of decomposing waste.
‘Urgh,’ said Saffron. ‘What’s that smell?’
Lloyd grinned. ‘Money. And our destination. Over that bridge, see?’
He pointed to a small footbridge over a canal. On the other side was a great pile of rotting rubbish, and behind it a slew of metal clad buildings, one of which had the tall chimney of an incinerator.
‘This is one of ours,’ said Lloyd. ‘It saves waste from going to landfill and generates green electricity. Makes a tidy profit, too.’
‘Not what I’d call green,’ said Saffron.
We crossed the footbridge and the smell got worse. Swarms of flies descended on us, just to make our lives complete.
‘You take me to the most romantic places,’ said Mina.
‘Wait until you see Niði’s Hall.’
Across the footbridge, a path led round to the right, circling the waste site and disappearing. Lloyd turned left, where there was just a narrow ledge of iron grating between the canal and the solid concrete wall.
‘It has to be strong to stop leakage,’ said Lloyd, patting the wall. ‘Just another ten metres.’ He looked at Mina. ‘You can’t go last. There’s Wards and you’ll fall in the cut if you hit them.’
‘The cut?’
‘The canal. Conrad and – Saffron, was it? – will form a magickal bridge.’
He turned to the side and shuffled along the ledge. It had not been designed with my size in mind, and I let my back hug the wall. Mina followed.
About four metres along, the wall tingled against my back, pushing me away from it. It wasn’t a strong Ward, just enough to deter adventurous children. I pushed back, physically and mentally, until I was past the Ward and onto a larger ledge, formed where the retaining wall veered away from the canal. I held out my left hand and guided Mina over the dangerous zone.
‘I felt that,’ she said. ‘On my arm. It itched like crazy.’
‘Interesting.’
Saffron had passed the Ward, too, and made straight for an unremarkable section of concrete wall. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘That is beautiful work.’
Mina grinned. ‘Looks like you’ve got a live one here, Conrad.’
I stared at the wall, trying to open my Sight. Nothing. I closed my eyes and did the same. A light flared on my retina, and I opened my eyes in reflex. There, instead of concrete, was an ornate pair of stone doors surrounded by blocks of stone covered in runes. I kept my focus on the door and reached out my hand to Mina.
She grasped it and sucked in her breath. ‘Amazing. Finally, a door my height.’
Lloyd took out an Artefact and presented it to the doors. With a shouted command in Old High North Germanic, the doors parted. I had to bend nearly double. Even Lloyd had to duck.
Beyond the doors, stairs led straight down in a vicious drop. As with most Dwarven places, it was lit by glowing stones in the vaulted ceiling rather than lightsticks. No one spoke as we focused on the slimy steps and uneven walls.
We emerged on to an underground dock next to an underground canal. I stroked the wall and said, ‘We’ve bypassed the boat lift, haven’t we? This is the same level as Niði’s new Hall.’
‘You’re right,’ said Lloyd. He pointed right, to the north east. ‘Niði won’t let us use that entrance. Cycling the boat lift costs too much Lux at the minute. This is only the second time he’s let me in since we were last here.’
‘What’s wrong?’
Lloyd put his fingers in his mouth and made a piercing whistle. ‘The boat’ll be here soon.’ He looked down the left tunnel. ‘Niði has had a lot
of catching up to do. He needs to rebuild his strength and repair his Hall. He’s very vulnerable, right now. Vulnerable for a Dwarf, that is.’
The boat dock wasn’t very big. Just large enough to make a platform to access the stairs we’d come down, and the canal itself was barely wider than a standard narrowboat. After all, the only traffic was internal, so it didn’t need to be any bigger. Mina shivered at the sudden change in temperature, and Saffron joined in.
The left tunnel lit up suddenly, and we could see a flat-bottomed plastic boat moving towards us, soundlessly and without any obvious motor.
Saffron wrapped her arms round herself. ‘Is it just me, or does that look a lot like transport to Hades?’
It wasn’t just her: I’d been thinking exactly the same.
Lloyd leaned down and grabbed the boat with one hand. He pushed up his left sleeve and used his prosthetic prong to grip the boat and keep it steady. Gnomes have enormous upper body strength. ‘In you get.’
The little boat was cosy, but stable. Lloyd got in last. I’d say he got in at the stern, but this craft was blunt at both ends. It was only the stern because we were going left. He touched the flat back of the boat and murmured something. With a jolt that nearly threw him in the water, the giant punt moved forwards. I’d been gripping the sides for balance, and let go when one of them came dangerously close to the wall. Mina grabbed the nearest steady object: me. Saffron looked like she’d been punting all her life, and stared at the rough hewn tunnel in awe.
‘You have brought an offering, haven’t you?’ said Lloyd.
‘Saffron?’ I said.
‘Yeah. I picked it up from Vicky at the station this morning.’
We lapsed into silence after that.
Brighter lights ahead signalled our arrival at Niði’s Hall. The canal split to form two basins either side of a central dock, and Lloyd headed to starboard. The boat drifted into the dock, close to some steps, and he grabbed a bollard. We climbed out, and I gave him a hand up. I’d been here before, and knew the way to go, so Lloyd said, ‘Over to you, Watch Captain. My work is done until it’s time to go back.’ Lloyd stood aside to let us go first, and tagged along behind as we left the dock.
The last time I’d been here, the lower Hall had been a work in progress, with half-finished arches and very little decoration. It was hard to believe the transformation.
Instead of leading to a rough tunnel, the dock now led to a colonnade of Gothic arches. If you peeked through them into the unlit spaces beyond, you could see piles of stone waiting to be taken away. There were a couple of new side-tunnels now, barely illuminated. Dwarves have a very low tolerance for light, and in their private spaces it’s barely above pitch black. They usually put on a show for visitors, and that’s what Niði had done in his receiving room.
It wasn’t quite as tall or as big as a cathedral. Think well-appointed parish church, as constructed for a horror film. It had more of the soaring, elegant arches and light came from where clerestory windows would be if we were above ground. Not being a church, there was no altar or stained glass in the east end, and the arches there were a continuation of the sides. What those arches did have was the beginnings of decoration and carving. From what I can see, Dwarves prefer to build first, then carve. Humans wouldn’t do that because we’d mess it up. Dwarves are nothing if not confident.
Niði obviously hadn’t finished his workshops, because there was a forge to one side, glowing with magickal and mundane heat. No one was shivering now. Niði was standing at the forge, working something in the hot coals and taking it out to give it the occasional bash with a hammer.
‘Master!’ I said.
The Dwarf looked up. Up being the operative word.
‘He really is shorter than me,’ said Mina. ‘I don’t believe it.’
Niði took out his work and put it in a cooler part of the forge. He took off his leather apron and dropped it on top of a nearby bench. If you want to know where Dwarves, who rarely venture above ground, get hold of leather aprons, it’s best not to ask. Apparently.
He came over to us, and we bowed low. Mina added namaste.
‘We come in peace and seek knowledge,’ I said. ‘Please, accept this gift.’
Saffron stepped forwards and unzipped her backpack. She took out a small box and offered it gingerly to the Dwarf.
Niði is what you’d expect a Dwarf to look like: short, bearded, dark and possessed of glimmering eyes. Albion’s premier Dwarf, Hledjolf, looks like R2D2. Personally, I find Hledjolf a lot creepier but Saffron was clearly not a fan of Niði. Perhaps she just doesn’t like beards.
The Dwarf took the box and opened it. A thick gold ring glinted on bed of velvet.
Well, what else would you give a Dwarf? They got their reputation for a love of rings for a good reason. This one wasn’t magickal, as such, but would be a good starting point if you wanted to make an Artefact. Niði evaluated it carefully, taking it out and weighing it in his soot-blackened fist. He offered the box back to Saffron, and slipped the ring into a pocket. ‘The Constable has been generous. Welcome in peace. Please, sit.’
Stone benches were arranged at a stone table, and Niði had covered them with furs to protect human and Gnomish backsides. There were already tankards on the table. Oh goody. I was looking forward to this.
The Hall of a Dwarf isn’t just a home, it’s part of them. Imagine having your lungs, heart and sexual organs outside your body, if you can. It’s gross, but that’s what the Hall does. It soaks up Lux, and the Dwarf draws Lux from his Hall like we breathe the air. Deep in one of the caverns is the spawning rock, and I’d seen a mini-Niði emerging from the rock on my last visit, so it wasn’t a surprise when a second Dwarf came in carrying a jug.
This second Niði looked similar to the first, in the way that brothers are similar, but they’re not just similar, they’re the same, or part of the same. The cosmetic differences are only for show. Dwarves share consciousness in ways I have no hope of understanding. The second Dwarf was swathed in rough cloth, and I reckon that it was still forming itself underneath the hessian and hair. It – he – put the jug down and left.
Niði filled the tankards and we drank the three toasts. Dwarven Ale is legendary, and great on a hot day. Mina raised her eyebrows in pleasure and Saffron looked like she was taking medicine. Takes all sorts.
‘What does the King’s Watch want with Niði?’ he asked.
Mina pushed her hair right back and turned to face the Dwarf, crossing her legs over the bench. ‘Thank you for your hospitality, Master. You are very kind.’ Niði nodded an acknowledgement, and Mina continued. ‘I would know more of Alchemical Gold, if you can help me.’
Niði looked blankly back at her. ‘You are a human,’ he said. ‘You can have no knowledge of this.’
‘You are the Master. Who else would I ask?’ Niði blinked. Flattery works on Dwarves, too. I’d told her that, and also told her that Niði has vision, but little imagination, if you see what I mean. Some of his artwork is beautiful, but it’s very … concrete. She took a breath. ‘A natural Dwarf is possible, is it not? One born of a rockseed with no parent?’
‘Such a thing has been known. Not since humans were trying to build those pyramids, I grant you, but it has been known.’
‘Suppose one turned up in your Hall. What would you need to teach him before he could make Alchemical Gold?’
Niði rubbed and pulled at his beard. He took a long draught of ale. ‘Why do you want to know? You are not even a Mage.’
‘All the more reason for you to explain it to me, Master.’
Niði scratched his nose. I think that may be a Dwarven shrug. Maybe. ‘You take Mother’s gold to start with.’
‘That would be ordinary gold,’ said Lloyd. ‘As it comes from our Mother Earth.’
‘And that would be mansplaining,’ muttered Saffron.
Mina ignored them. ‘And then what, Master?’
‘You Reduce it with silver. Without silver, the Lux will flow in
and out, like a tankard with no bottom. The silver traps the Lux inside the gold. It circulates endlessly. You humans do the same with electricity and call it a superconductor.’
This much we knew. Well, this much Vicky and Myfanwy knew. It was the next questions that Mina wanted the answers to.
‘What is Reducing, Master?’
He pulled his beard. ‘It is the oldest principle in Alchemy. You change the nature of one thing with another. Reducing the gold makes it alchemical gold. You must know of Lydian Electrum.’
Mina nodded enthusiastically. ‘It is a naturally occurring blend of gold and silver, from Lydia in Greece. Lux is measured by how much can be stored in one Troy ounce of Lydian Electrum, but Alchemical Gold can store so much more.’
‘It can. And only Dwarves can Reduce Mother’s gold to make Alchemical Gold.’
‘Why?’ said Mina.
Niði’s black brows contracted. ‘Do you insult me?’
‘How can a human insult Mother’s favourites? You are great, I am nothing. Is the Reduction something in you, or in your great skill that no human could ever master?’
Niði thumped down his tankard. ‘No creature can match us in gold. Our skill is supreme.’
Mina turned to me. The Dwarf hadn’t claimed magickal exclusivity for his race, only superiority. ‘I thought so,’ she said. She turned back to Niði. ‘And then?’
‘The Alchemical Gold is placed in a golden lattice at the centre of a Collector. When it is charged with Lux, you have the finished article.’
Mina put her hands flat on the table. Saffron and I eased back a little. It was our signal to be ready. Mina was about to upset the Dwarf.
‘Great Master,’ she said. ‘You spoke of the pyramids. Have you ever seen them by moonlight.’
‘Yes, I have. Once.’
‘Could I turn one upside down and balance it on its point?’
Dwarves are greedy. Very greedy. When it comes to treasure, they are blind with greed. But they are not stupid. ‘That would be impossible,’ said Niði. He was answering Mina’s question, and his tone said that he’d heard the subtext: Why can’t a human make Alchemical Gold?
