Gallacian is possibly the most complicated language in Europe. Among its many quirks are different pronouns for men, women, children, soldiers, priests, rocks, and God. The one for rocks – sha and shan – don’t come up much, but thinking of Hollow Elk Mine, I had a grim feeling that I might have use for them sooner rather than later…
Alex Easton – Sworn Soldier of the Gallacian army but trying to be retired – seems to be cursed to run across supernatural shenanigans of one kind or another. In book one it was an otherworldly fungus that liked to make dead things get up and run around. In book two it was something harder to describe, possibly long dead and still angry about it. And in book three we have the horror trope that absolutely never fails to bring a chill…
…trouble in the mine.
BEGGING YOU TO COME WITH ALL HASTE STOP NEED YOUR HELP STOP BRING ANGUS STOP
The plea in the telegram from Alex’s friend Denton was impossible to ignore, even though it involved a trip to America. Alex doesn’t have a problem with Americans per se, they’re all just so terribly earnest and what is up with the constantly offering to shake hands when meeting? But Denton was with Alex when they dealt with the…unpleasantness at Usher Lake, and Alex knows he’s not the type of person to ask for help unless he really needs it. And what Denton really needs to do right now is find his cousin Oscar.
After sending Denton several enthusiastic letters hinting at something very strange going on in the old abandoned Hollow Elk Mine he was exploring, Oscar vanished. No one in the nearby town knows anything, and Denton’s only clue that he might still be alive is a mysterious telegram that basically translates to “Whoops, never mind. It was all a misunderstanding. Silly me, everything’s fine! Don’t come here!” Obviously the mine will need to be explored to see if Oscar is trapped and/or hurt somewhere, and Alex is most definitely not looking forward to any part of going underground in a place with such a variety of ways to die. (I believe I’ve heard of firedamp before, but the explanation for a squeeze creeped out both Alex and myself.)
“…they leave pillars of rock between excavations to hold up the ceiling. If the weight of the ceiling is too great, it bears down on the pillars and the floor rises toward the ceiling, so the passage becomes very narrow.”
“That is horrifying and I want to go home,” I said, although I pronounced it, “Ah, I see.”
I always enjoy getting to see things from Alex’s perspective. They’ve gone through enough war, and enough strange adventures after the war, to have built up a nice layer of trauma and coping mechanisms. They’re completely incapable of failing to help a friend, or someone who might become a friend, and they’re also incapable of admitting that they’re terrified by anything. So what you get is empathy that presents as a sardonic sense of humor that’s really appealing. I lost count of all the fun quotes where Alex very dryly sums up a situation that is scary and really starting to be bothersome. Which is a handy attitude to take when venturing into a place that is dark, unknowable, and may be actively trying to kill you.
“What the devil…?”
The sound rose in pitch to a dull whistle, then the wind began to slacken and it died away.
“Changes in atmospheric pressure,” said Denton. “Cave systems breathe the same way. It’ll calm down in a bit.”
Breathing. That was exactly what it felt like, as if the mine was inhaling, dragging air down a steep stone throat. A throat that had already swallowed one man alive.
There are quite a few different types of fear going on in this story Both Alex and Denton were already dealing with the aftereffects of war, and now they’re both trying to not think too much about what they saw in Usher Lake. The growing sense of claustrophobia starts putting Alex on edge, and the everyday perils of an abandoned mine don’t do anything to calm the situation when strange lights and noises appear, and the explorers start finding things that are impossible to explain. (That…thing that happens with reflections at one point is a perfect horror-movie touch.)
Kingfisher takes a sample of Lovecraft to create the mysteries of Hollow Elk mine, all happening beside complicated interpersonal relationships and attempts to communicate with something that doesn’t experience things like identity and time the way we do. And there’s at least one “oh Jesus it’s chasing me” moment that I’ll probably be thinking of the next time I go to Mammoth Cave. Or somebody’s basement. Or any place dark where I can’t tell if the walls are breathing.