Jonathon Worthington: Strangelight Investigator

Case #17: The Mystery of the Giggling Gobber (Chapter 7)

Misery always has a smell; this time its constituents were blood, coal, dirt, and the metallic taint of alchemical explosives.

The scent of death hung side by side with the stench of despair, fouling the mouth of the mine. Rails ran out of the darkness within, and the carts that lay upturned nearby bespoke the hasty departure of those who had been laboring within the man-made cave. Piles of rock lay near the exit in disorderly mounds, the fruits of excavation, but the actual cave-in was much farther down according to those we questioned. Despite their impressive size the rough men and ogrun kept a wary distance from the mouth of the mine. Cheap whiskey was already making its rounds amongst them, offering a burning salve to their fears and a temporary boost of bravado. Choking dust hung suspended in the air, saturating the area and creating an unwelcoming haze. Hasty fortifications had been erected at a slight distance in a semicircle around the entrance with toppled equipment, dross rock cast off from the processing site, and anything else the men could lay hands on. Several miners squatted behind the makeshift cover clutching a varied assortment of worn but functional firearms. The combination of liquor and guns foretold ill consequences, and monster or not I suspected more deaths were due before the day was done.

"What the devil do they think they're doing?" Lord Lochlin demanded of Bailey, pointing at the gunmen.

"Defending themselves, sirrah," the foreman shot back, the tone of his voice betraying his impatience with what he considered the idiocy of city men. "You think they want to wait fer the critter to come and get them all peaceful like in their beds?"

"What exactly are they going to do that against something that nary a bullet will stop?" Cora replied angrily, stepping in front of Lord Lochlin as if to strike the foreman for the man's impertinence. "Do you think any phantom will give a stone's care to your little barricades and bravado? Liquored-up fools shooting at anything that moves is just going to get someone killed without touching the real problem."

"T'ain't no one left in there," Bailey said stubbornly. "If letting a few rounds loose down into the dark makes the boys feel better I ain't about to stop them."

"I would really rather prefer they did no such thing; I'm in no particular mood to be shot today."

My quiet objection interrupted the brewing argument between the foreman and the other Strangelight investigators. They turned to me with varying expressions on their faces; Bailey and Cora were fuming over my interjection, but there was suspicious look from Lord Lochlin. I could feel Orsch's disapproving glare on the back of my neck, but I'd caught sight of something earlier that forced my hand.

"I believe young master Worthington has a plan," the elder noble said, inclining his head towards me to continue.

"Indeed I do. Orsch and I will descend into the mine to face this arcane aberration and destroy it once and for all. The rest of you will stay here; if we do not return to the surface seek further help and equipment from Ceryl."

"Now wait just a moment, you're not the only ones ..." Lord Lochlin objected.

"You and Cora must not accompany us," I interrupted him. The firm certainty in my voice gave him pause long enough to drive my point home. "Cora needs to repair your equipment, and to be frank it is foolish to risk all of our lives in such a manner."

"Indeed it is!" the senior lord harrumphed. "Why is it you insist on throwing yours away so quickly then?"

I lowered my voice so that it would not carry and motioned them closer. "Because something must be seen to be done. I mean no disrespect to your men, Foreman Bailey, but what will happen if night takes us and the creature remains untouched in your mine?"