The hallway was short, and it was brick. Old brick. Near the end of it, on the right side, was a crude archway that looked like it had been formed out of a large hole in the wall.
“It looks like somebody blasted through here and then tried to repair it in order to shore it up.” Roz moved to the front. “Let me take a look at it.”
I motioned to the others. “Stay here while we check it out.”
As we approached the opening, I saw that he was right. The actual stone arch wasn’t really smooth—it was jagged. A wooden trestle, looking to be of polished hardwood, had been fitted into the opening for support. While it was snug, there were plenty of gaps around the edges where the bricks had been shattered in a nonuniform manner.
“Looks like something blasted that hole, and then whoever built this decided to leave the opening but make it safer.” Roz reached out, his fingers sliding along the polished beam. “That’s hornbeam. Also known as ironwood. It will hold up a lot of weight, and with the opening being only three feet wide, it should last a good long time. I’d surmise the wood has been treated, as well.”
“So it seems the actual hole may have been an accident, but the resulting arch keeping it open is deliberate.” I pondered this for a moment. “It makes me wonder just who blasted this open in the first place. Goblins are known for coming through these tunnels—remember the ones near Pioneer Square? Somehow they managed to find a rogue portal down in Underground Seattle, and I don’t know if that thing is still there or not.”
It occurred to me that, in all the chaos of the past couple years, a few things had slipped by the wayside and we really should attend to them. Like rogue portals and who was watching them, and other such little goodies. Knowing we were spacing on things wasn’t really conducive to feeling secure, and I wondered what else we’d forgotten along the way.
“Could be. Goblins like brute force; that’s for certain. The hole has been around far too long to ascertain what kind of explosives ripped it open. But we should get moving. The longer we loiter here, the more chance we have of being caught.” Roz’s jaw was set, and he looked unsettled. “There are bound to be bigger and badder things down here than the daeflier. And I’d rather take them by surprise than the other way around.”
“Good point.” I peeked through the opening.
Sure enough, it led into Underground Seattle; that much was obvious. The tunnel led to the right and left, although to the right was bricked up after about ten yards. To the left, faint lights were affixed to the sides of the walls. I wasn’t sure if they were electric, or battery operated. I doubted they were magical. Though down in the underground, it was hard to tell.
There was no one in sight, so I motioned for the others to join us, and Tanne retook the lead beside me, with Delilah and Roz next, then Camille and Morio, and lastly—Smoky. With a dragon holding our guard, we all felt more comfortable.
There was a special feel to Underground Seattle, no matter where you were in it. Passing what had been discarded shops, with their faded signs from the past, served as a stark reminder of how time put to rest all things. People who had lived here were dead, and many—forgotten.
While the city authorities had done their best to block off large portions of the area, both the humans and the Supes who inhabited the underground had opened them right back up, as well as adding new tunnels.
And, of course, the Demon Underground had its own niche beneath the city. I dreaded the thought of a major quake striking the area, which it could easily do, seeing how Seattle was built over a major fault zone. A lot of lives could be lost, as well as an entire subculture of the city.
The passage we were in was narrow. It might have been an alley for the way it looked. The floor here was brick, but there were signs that, once, there had been planking over the brick till somebody had gotten the idea to rip it up. I wasn’t sure why, but chances were the wood had eroded away in the dampness.
I looked over my shoulder at Delilah. “Which direction was Pete’s Barbershop? I hope it’s to the left or we’re going to have problems.”
She nodded. “Left, it is. About two blocks.”
We headed out, as quietly as we could. The bricks seemed to muffle the sounds of our footsteps, but coughs and words reverberated in the silence, and somewhere ahead, the echo of dripping water steadily beat out a cadence. Must have been either a leak in a pipe, or something of the sort.
Along the way, I examined the lights that were affixed to the walls in regular intervals. They were, indeed, electric. Power had been run down through the Underground for years. The soft glow of the forty-watt bulbs was enough to see by, but not so bright that they illuminated every nook and cranny.
“Do you notice something?” Delilah asked after a moment.
“What?”
She motioned to the sides. “No intersecting tunnels. This passage seems to be blocked off from the rest of Underground Seattle. First the brick wall back on the other side of the entrance, then no other exits.”
She was right. This did seem to be its own little corner of the world.
“I hadn’t noticed, but now that you mention it, you’re right. You say we have about another block to go? There should have been other tunnels leading off here—for the alleyways, etc. In fact, I thought we were already in an alleyway.”
She shook her head. “No. It just feels narrower than usual because it was a side street. However, again—yes. There should be tunnels branching off, with the amount of building and expansion that has gone on down here. But nothing.”
By the looks of the tunnel, there had been more than cosmetic work done down here in the past ten years.
“I’ll bet you anything, Lowestar had some renovation done down here to give him more privacy. It would make sense when you consider the scope of the operation that he’s running. It’s probably a multimillion-dollar business. He’s not going to jeopardize that—nor is he going to risk being found out. Even if the FBH courts wouldn’t know what to do with him, you can bet some angry Supe would do their best to take him out.”
Delilah laughed. “I know somebody who would probably love to get his hands on this knowledge. He could make book with it so big.”
Camille chimed in from behind. “Are you talking about Daniel?”
“Daniel? No. I’m talking about Alex—someone I met not long ago at the Supe-Urban Café. He owns the Fly by Night Investigations Agency. He and his crew are bounty hunters in a sense. They not only take on paranormal cases, but go after rogue Supes. I’m surprised you haven’t met the guy, Menolly. He’s a vampire and his IT guy is a werewolf.”
I frowned. The name of the agency sounded vaguely familiar. “They’re in Seattle?”
“Yeah. I thought of him because his last name is the same as our villain’s. Radcliffe. But without the e on the end. And there’s no connection; that much I can tell you. I checked into it. Alex was originally from Australia.” She let out a chuckle. “Not your usual vamp either.”
I wanted to ask what she meant by that, but just then, we reached the end of the road. Literally. The tunnel ended at another brick wall. But to the right, we saw a sign. PETE’S BARBERSHOP. And against the brick façade built over the mouth of the passageway were two sconces.
Tanne pointed. “That’s what I saw. We’re here.”
“Then we’re close to Lowestar’s cells. Did you notice any sort of trap, any other action he took when he came through here?” I gazed at the Fae, hoping to hell he was remembering correctly.