Page 2

Chapter 2

The Chrome Mine was beyond Kamluck Logging in a place I’d never been before around the back of the mountain. Kamluck – and Connor – were my usual destination.

I looked around with interest as we rolled into the area. The mine looked old but well maintained. The wooden buildings that pushed up the mountain were on stilts in some places, halfway into the earth and surrounded by thick forest, like almost everything in Portlock.

We pulled into a car park where the signage pointed to the main office and I collected our trusty black bag from the back seat before we headed into the office to meet Thomas. Apparently the deadly human had his fingers in a lot of pies around town: he owned the only taxi company in Portlock, hunted naughty supernats and apparently co-owned the mine, together with the two female council members, Liv and Calliope .

The office was rustic like its exterior but there was a bevy of modern conveniences nestled inside the ancient timber: computers, signage, climate control. The mine seemed to be in good working order as far as I could see, not that I had anything to judge it against. At least it wasn’t a shambolic mess.

Of course, we hadn’t gone inside it yet. Maybe inside it was in a real state. Maybe that’s why Helmud Henderson had died from a heart attack. The thought made me uneasy. ‘The mine’s safe, right?’ I muttered to Gunnar. ‘Like, it’s not going to collapse on our heads?’

Gunnar grinned. ‘You’re a vampire, you’ll be fine. Connor would find you eventually.’

I grimaced. I was a hybrid vampire and I didn’t think I’d do as well as he thought; for starters, as a hybrid I still had to breathe and that might be tricky in a collapsed mine. I tried not to think about it. As Nana would have said, no point in borrowing trouble.

Fluffy sniffed around but nothing appeared to set off his spidey senses. He returned to my side and I gave him a pat for a job well done.

Thomas was talking to what I assumed was a dwarf. The dwarves kept themselves to themselves and it was rare to see one in town. I’d had a full class about dwarves at the academy, and a lot of it had been about their strengths and weaknesses. Apparently they were irascible, prone to fights and especially sensitive about comments related to their small stature. When fights between dwarves broke out, most often it was fisticuffs and not a cause for concern. They didn’t usually wear weapons so their bust-ups were rarely deadly. Even so, they were very handy with a pick and an axe.

Their culture was secretive and they were hyper-protective about their dead. The academy had taught us that we wouldn’t be able to take custody of a dead dwarf’s body because it had to be released immediately to the family. An autopsy was a complete no-no, meaning that cases involving them were far harder to work. Luckily, Helmud Henderson was wholly human, though he’d obviously known about the supernat world because he’d been hired by the dwarves.

Thomas was talking to a dwarf about four feet tall with a wild scrub of hair that had been forced – incompetently – into a couple of braids. His long red beard was so full that only his eyes, nose and a hint of lip showed through, which made it tricky to read his facial expressions. He was dressed in brown denim overalls over a thick flannel shirt with a heavy denim jacket on top and wearing brown steel-toed leather boots. He didn’t have gloves and I could see that his hands were large and callused .

He glared at Gunnar and then at me with his copper-coloured eyes. I guessed it wasn’t that hard to read his expression after all: this one had a clear ‘fuck off’ vibe.

Gunnar shook Thomas’s hand then offered his huge paw to the dwarf who glanced at it, curled his lip and promptly ignored it. The Nomo let his hand fall, his expression mild and unoffended by the dwarf’s blatant rudeness. He turned to his friend instead. ‘Thomas, thanks for letting us examine the scene of death. Sorry for the inconvenience.’

Thomas nodded. ‘No problem. We want this solved so everything can go back to normal. This is Leif Ericsson, the mine supervisor.’ He turned to Leif. ‘This is the Nomo, Gunnar Johanssen, and Bunny Barrington, Nomo Officer.’

Leif didn’t acknowledge us but continued to look surly and bored. I addressed him politely. ‘Leif, what can you tell us about the death?’

He stared at me blankly and gave no indication that he was going to reply. Oh-kay, then. I pushed some more. ‘For example, it would be helpful if you could tell us who discovered the body. How long did it remain undiscovered? A timeline of his activities would be great – and anything else you think could be relevant. ’

Leif grimaced, but this time he started to answer, albeit grudgingly. ‘The inspector came in and started the inspection. At some point, he stepped into a shaft he shouldn’t have and lost his guide, a miner by the name of Aaberg Allan. They were separated for less than fifteen minutes, and when Allan found him he was already dead. That’s all I know. We called the ambulance and they took the body.’ He shrugged. ‘Never saw anything, but there’s no way he dropped dead without help.’ He leaned forward. ‘It was the hag. I know it was.’

‘Tell me about the hag,’ I prompted.

His lips pursed under his shaggy beard. ‘We have a hag that lives on the mine property. She’s tried to shut us down several times in the past, insists we’re on her territory and we’re disturbing her. Things have been quiet recently, but it’s clear that’s set to change.’

‘Have you spoken to her?’

‘Not since the 1920s.’

I blinked. ‘Have you seen her since then? I mean, are you sure she’s still alive?’ I was also wondering how long dwarves lived for, but given how tetchy he was it didn’t seem prudent to ask. I looked him over; he didn’t look a day over fifty, if that.

Leif barked a single derisive laugh and shot me a supercilious look. ‘Hags are immortal,’ he sneered. ‘Unless they’re killed,’ he added, ‘and it’s almost impossible to kill one.’ The suggestion that he’d tried to do so hung in the air.

‘Do you know how we can contact her?’ I pressed. Gunnar was standing back, letting me ask the questions, but he leaned in to hear the answer.

Leif shrugged. ‘I can show you one of the known entrances to her den, but you take your life into your own hands if you try to get her attention. You could end up like Helmud – and don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

It wasn’t a nice thought but I was determined; if Leif was convinced that this hag had killed Helmud then we needed to speak to her despite his dire warnings. ‘After we’re done examining the scene here, I’d be grateful if you’d show us to the entrance of her den,’ I told him.

‘Your funeral,’ he groused, stalking off in a visible huff.

Thomas gestured that we needed to follow the grouchy dwarf. He led us out of the office and up a series of wooden steps. I guessed we were climbing the mountain to the mine lift; at least I hoped we were because if there wasn’t a lift my thighs were going to burn.

At the entrance to another building, Leif stopped briefly to make sure we were following then opened the door. The place was full of lockers, coveralls and hard hats and was obviously where the miners prepared for work. There was also a bathroom and a small break room.

Leif gave Gunnar and me mining helmets, complete with head lamps, and showed us how to adjust the fit; Thomas grabbed his own helmet and adjusted it like a pro. Next Leif walked down a longish corridor to the lift room. He didn’t check to see if we were following; he was a really nice fellow.

‘Are any of you claustrophobic?’ Thomas asked.

I didn’t know if I was, but the thought of plunging down into the depths of the earth wasn’t something I was feeling warm and fuzzy about – but who would? I shrugged. Fluffy gave an almost inaudible whine; he wasn’t thrilled at the idea either.

‘You and me both, bud,’ I murmured. ‘Stay close.’ He pressed into my leg and I gave him a reassuring pat.

I was relieved to see the lift, but that relief was instantly washed away when I realised how rickety it was: it was an open cage with steel mesh over the inner cart with a single bulb hanging from the top for illumination. You could even see the cables that ran it. I gulped. I liked my lifts to be a mystery, a shiny box with mirrors and good lighting, maybe some nice lift music. This shit didn’t look safe and my stomach clenched .

Leif opened the first part of the cage, then the lift door and stepped inside. We followed. I had a sudden urge to blurt out something about another appointment but I stomped on it. The cage door slid shut with an ominous clang.

The dwarf picked up a device that hung by a thick metal-bound cord and hit a button. The lift lurched downwards and we headed into the cold dark depths below.

Yay.