Page 10

Chapter 10

The scent of damp earth was all around me. I jumped and tried to suppress the jolt of panic when the ‘door’ behind me disappeared and I was plunged into total darkness. Think, Bunny!

I reached up and fumbled with my helmet to flick on my headlamp. Relief flowed through me as it came on; it was meagre and underpowered but definitely light. I was still in a tunnel with an unknown threat, but at least now I could see her coming for me. Surely that would be better, right?

The hag’s small form shuffled in front of me. Her head was down and her back was hunched so she was an ideal size for the tunnel, but she had failed to consider her tall guest and I had to stoop low as I walked forward. I was several inches taller than my guide and my back was already protesting.

I was completely disoriented in the narrow tunnels. I was panting, but I told myself that it was from the exercise rather than from fear and being in a tight space at another creature’s mercy.

Because the darkness and being underground messed with my senses, I had no idea how long we walked. When the hag finally came to an open space, I stumbled. She had led me to her home and apparently she was willing to let me in. Huh.

Of all the things I’d expected, it wasn’t this. Old lanterns lit the cavernous space and cast a dim glow in the cave and I could see that she even had some furniture. Matilda waved me past her and I started forward. As I lifted my head, my headlamp illuminated more of the space.

Oh fuck.

The walls of the cavern were lined with skulls. Human skulls. My knees buckled. As I collapsed into the chair next to me, I heard the hag cackle. ‘You should have had sugary snack, little girl,’ she said. ‘You so weak.’

I ignored her taunts and pointed to the skulls. ‘They gave me a turn,’ I admitted honestly. My heart had given three solid beats: I was in vampire tachycardia.

She looked at the skulls and laughed harder; her wheezy bark reminded me of a seal. As she sat on another chair, I noticed the mismatched nature of the furniture. Had she stolen castoffs from places around town? She seemed to like the overstuffed type .

The hag explained, ‘Those from graves. I move out of way.’ Well, that was a relief because I’d immediately thought of cannibalism. ‘Food?’ she offered. ‘Drink?’

I blinked and tried not to let my eyes linger on the skulls. ‘No, thank you. I’ve just eaten,’ I lied.

She grunted. ‘Fine. You want talk, so talk.’

‘Sure. I’m Bunny, by the way. I’m an officer at the Nomo’s office.’

‘Why Bunny? Is it because you jump like rabbit?’ She giggled.

Great, even the non-humans were comedians. ‘I’ve always had carrots in my fridge,’ I explained, pulling out a well-worn story. ‘So everyone calls me Bunny.’

She snorted. ‘Carrots for rodents. You rodent?’

I eyed her flatly and ignored her comment. ‘I called you because there was a dead body in that mine shaft we were just in. You might be our only witness to the death. The dwarves told me that you had an entrance there and might have seen something.’ I left off the whole ‘the dwarves thought you did it’ part. I really wanted to get out of there alive.

She frowned. ‘Dwarves hate Matilda.’

I had a million questions but I didn’t dare ask them yet because I had no feel for Matilda. I could tell that her magic was strong – it grated just out of reach like electricity in the air. She’d been friendly enough so far, but that didn’t mean she was .

‘They don’t hate you,’ I said firmly. Disklike and fear, yes, but hatred was arguable.

She seemed mollified. ‘I not see dead man.’

Bummer: there went my easy solve. ‘No problem. Have you noticed anything different in the mine?’

‘Strange smell,’ she said finally. ‘Three moons ago. I leave, not like.’

That sent my mind racing. A strange smell? Some weird mine gas, perhaps? Did the inspector die from poison gas? If so, was it natural or man-made? I groaned inwardly to myself; if Stan was here, he’d be joking about farts. It was a good thing he was absent.

‘Were you near that shaft when you smelled it or somewhere else?’ I asked.

She cocked her head in thought and scratched her large, bulbous nose. ‘I not close.’

So there went that idea. This was going nowhere; if she’d done anything to the inspector, she wasn’t going to simply admit it.

The skulls were giving weight to some of Leif’s fears, though, and our brief chat hadn’t ruled her out as a suspect. I had to tread carefully; I wanted to get home to Connor in one piece. ‘Thank you for your hospitality, Matilda. I should go back.’ I stood.

Her eyes narrowed at me. ‘Sit. Matilda ask questions now.’

I sat abruptly and forced a smile to my lips. ‘Sure. I’m so sorry – go ahead.’

She pursed her lips. ‘Matilda want more sugary snack. You bring here?’

I wasn’t sure if she was asking if I’d brought them today or if I’d bring more. ‘Yes, I brought them today.’

‘Tell dwarves Matilda want more. They give.’

‘I will tell them,’ I promised. ‘But I can’t guarantee they’ll listen.’

‘They listen. I no bother them, they do what Matilda say.’

Sounded like a protection scam to me, but whatever was going on seemed to be working. The dwarves had been running this mine for over a century, so I guessed they knew the cost of doing business. From the little I’d learned at the academy, hags were territorial and could be vicious. Since it was pretty certain that she’d been there first, a daily box of doughnuts seemed a small price if she was allowing the miners to work there.

‘I’ll let them know.’

She bared her teeth in a terrifying smile. ‘Good. Come. ’

She stood up. I had no choice but to follow hastily down the corridor she seemed to create effortlessly as she moved through the ground. Where did the earth go? Was it moved elsewhere as she walked, then pulled back into place when she was done? Or was it compressed somehow?

A huge wave of relief crashed through me as she led me back to the shaft where Gunnar and Thomas were waiting. The mine no longer felt like it was closing in; in fact, it felt positively spacious compared to her cramped tunnels. The hag waved me through and, as I stepped out, the ‘door’ disappeared behind me. Just like that, Matilda was gone. Not so much as a ta-ta.

Gunnar rushed up to me. ‘Are you okay?’ His eyes were a little wild.

I nodded. ‘Yep. She really just wanted a private chat.’ I paused. ‘I got the feeling that she wanted to show off her home to someone – she enjoyed my reaction.’

Gunnar blew out a long breath. ‘You were gone too long. I thought I’d lost you.’ He pulled me into a warm bear hug.

My heart swelled. It was nice to know I’d be missed; of course, Gunnar wasn’t the only one who cared. Connor would have torn this place apart if I hadn’t come back.

I hugged my boss until he finally released me, still scanning my face for signs of injury or distress. I smiled reassuringly. ‘Honestly, I’m fine. Matilda was quite a good host – she even offered me food and drink. To be honest, I wondered why the dwarves are so afraid of her.’

‘Apparently, she’s mellowed,’ Thomas said. ‘She and the dwarves began their relationship quite contentiously. This is her territory and the mine had a rough start until they reached a compromise.’

‘Well, I don’t know anything about that – but she wants a dozen doughnuts to be delivered daily.’

He nodded. ‘I’ll arrange that with the bakery. Small price to pay.’

I thought for a moment. ‘She seemed okay … content, you know? Of course, I’m not familiar with any other hags so I could be completely misreading her.’

‘I wouldn’t assume anything about her. She isn’t human – she doesn’t think like we do,’ Thomas cautioned.

I shrugged. ‘If we’re being picky, I’m not human either.’

‘No, but you were . And you’re humanoid. She’s not.’

‘I suppose. But did you know she has furniture in her cosy little cave?’

He looked genuinely taken aback. ‘She does? Where did she get it?’

‘I’m assuming she’s raided local cast-offs. You know, someone puts out a chair with a “free to a good home” sign. ’

There was one other thing that I was pretty sure I should mention. ‘As well as the furniture, her cave is lined with skulls. She said they were from graves. Is there a graveyard around here?’ I hadn’t seen one but I hadn’t explored this area yet; for all I knew, there was a graveyard just over the hill.

Thomas shook his head, not in denial, but in consternation. ‘Now I think I know why the dwarves fear the hag.’

‘Why?’ I pried.

His expression was grim. ‘She’s keeping their dead hostage.’