Lori stepped onto the platform and pulled the gate down behind her, then pulled the lever. The bell clanged twice, signaling Devin to start their descent. Nothing happened. She cracked open her shotgun, double-checked that it was loaded, and snapped it shut. She draped her duster back over her revolver, making sure it was accessible for a quickdraw.

  Lori held her hand out and felt a steady flow of cold air blowing up the shaft through the floorboards of the elevator platform. The chill air tugged at her coat and whispered ghostly secrets through her hair. It was an eerie sensation, like the long, drawn-out breath of some ancient beast lurking in the depths. She wiggled her fingers in the wind and felt- as much as smelled-the briny decay, sending a shiver down her spine. The long, mournful sigh of the mine made Lori feel as if they were on the brink of an abyss, ready to be swallowed by the lurking darkness below.

  Unease charged the air between her and Ebeneezer as they waited in the dim light reflected from the bright sunlight outside, the silence broken by the occasional creak and groan of the shifting platform and the deep moaning wind. Ebeneezer absently tapped his cane on the floorboards, each tap echoing into the depths below.

  Lori squatted and set the candle lantern on the ground before searching through her pocket for a box of matches. She struck a match and lit the candle inside the lantern, watching the small flame flicker and grow stronger as she closed the glass door to protect it from the draft. Ebeneezer watched her with growing impatience, feeling the weight of the forced silence between them. He needed to say something that might ease the tension. As the lantern’s warm glow illuminated their surroundings, he took a deep breath.

  “I can conjure light for us,” he blurted out.

  “We might get separated,” Lori said in a flat tone. She unrolled the mine diagram, carefully smoothing out the curl as she placed the corners down with the canteen, her shotgun, and the flickering lantern.

  Ebeneezer suppressed a sigh and looked over Lori’s shoulder at the map. The prolonged quiet between him and Lori felt almost unbearable, and he found himself wishing for the platform to start moving downward, anything to break the oppressive stillness.

  Finally, Ebeneezer could stand it no more. "Your father is a stubborn man," he began, immediately regretting his choice of words but unable to take them back. He pressed on, hoping to convey his point. "We offered to move him to Craterton Forge ten years ago," he continued, glancing at Lori for a reaction. "He wouldn't leave. He insisted he was needed out there, and to be fair, he was. He believed his presence was crucial to the hunters' success, that his knowledge could mean the difference between life and death. He has taught hundreds of hunters about tactics and methods of dispatching the supernatural. His knowledge and experience are invaluable. But despite all our offers of help and relocation, he would not leave that blasted barn," Ebeneezer said, shaking his head with a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration as he remembered the countless discussions and futile attempts to sway her father.

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  Lori remained silent, her attention fixed on the diagram of the mine as her finger traced the markings and annotations. She refused to meet Ebeneezer's gaze, obstinately focusing on the it. Ebeneezer, growing increasingly agitated, tapped his cane on the wooden floor in a sharp, relentless rhythm that displayed his impatience. "We tried to pay him, too," Ebeneezer exclaimed, his voice rising with frustration, "but the stubborn bugger wouldn’t accept any money!"

  Just then, the platform lurched into motion, beginning its slow, creaking descent into the depths below. The cable pulleys above groaned and whined as they turned, and the platform swayed gently side to side. Yet, despite the sudden noise, the quiet Lori imposed on Ebeneezer gnawed at his already frayed nerves.

  “I want him in Craterton Forge. I need him there. We need him there, and I can only imagine how difficult it is for you to take care of him. Alone. But remember, it was his stubborn choice to stay there. He refused our money and our help. Don’t blame us for the situation.”

  Lori quietly drew her pistol, checked that the cylinder was loaded, and then holstered it again. As the elevator descended further into the shaft, the intense white light from the salty landscape shining into the shaft building faded. The walls of the shaft rose up around them, and Lori's gaze fixed on the diminishing square of light above until it became a mere sliver before disappearing entirely, immersing them in the flickering glow of the lantern.

  “You should have just handed me the money,” she muttered bitterly.

  Ebeneezer scoffed in exasperation. “When, Lass? When would you have accepted the money? You avoid us like we’re carrying the plague. You’re cold as ice to anyone who tries to approach you!” He turned away from her, rubbing his furry temples wearily. “We would have tried to help, we would have done anything to support you and your father, but you turned away from us long ago.” He sighed and searched her eyes, hoping to see some glimmer of understanding, however faint.

  Lori continued her icy silence, anger boiling in her gut. She clenched her fists to dam the emotions from spilling over, her body rigid and tense. The heat between them seemed to grow with each passing level, the weight of unspoken grievances pressing down on her. Despite her best efforts to maintain control, her jaw clenched harder with each passing second with barely contained rage. She felt Ebeneezer's gaze on her, but refused to meet his gaze, knowing that doing so might unleash the torrent she struggled to suppress.

  Ebeneezer conjured a ball of bright green light from the end of his cane and cast it into the air. It hovered above, shedding an eerie luminescence on their surroundings. Lori glanced through the cage, away from Ebeneezer, and watched as the dimly lit walls of the shaft passed by.

  “I got home from my last trip, and he had no water, no coffee, and no way of getting it himself,” Lori said, her voice trembling with barely restrained anger. She fixed Ebeneezer with a piercing glare, her eyes ablaze. “None of your hunters help,” she continued, her tone laced with bitterness. “He bends over backward to teach your adventurers how to defeat the monsters, yet not a single one of them can fetch a pail of water or grind a single coffee bean.” She turned her focus back on the map, her vision blurred by unshed tears.