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furnished with a variety of what looked like commercial-grade chemistry apparatus. Glassware, a series of stills and burners, and an assortment of implements littered the surfaces of two collapsible stainless steel workbenches.
    Across the room there was another opening in the wall. She could see a portion of an antechamber.
    Giving the corridor another quick survey, she went past the workbenches to peer into the second room.
    A number of bulging burlap sacks were heaped inside. A strong, faintly medicinal aroma came from the sacks.She did not recognize the smell, but it made her think of some of the scents that greeted her whenever she walked into Elly St. Clair’s herb shop.
    Bertha went to the nearest sack and quickly untied it. Inside was a large quantity of dried plant leaves. She scooped up a handful of the brittle material and sniffed cautiously. The acrid tang hit her nostrils with unexpected force. An instant later she felt a disturbing tingle through her paranormal senses. The chamber started to change shape.
    Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she stepped back quickly and breathed deeply. The room returned to its former proportions.
    When her head cleared, she took another breath, held it, and went back to the sack. Reaching inside, she grasped a small handful of the dried leaves and dropped them into one of the several pockets that decorated her trousers.
    A strong sense of urgency enveloped her. Her years underground had taught her not to ignore that primal warning. Hastily she retied the sack.
    She had the evidence she needed, she thought, patting the pocket that contained the leaves. She would lock the coordinates of the room into the amber-rez locator of the sled. When she returned to the surface, she would turn over the strange herbs along with the location of the chamber to the Cadence City cops, anonymously, of course. They could take it from there. Maybe that good-looking flashy dresser, Detective DeWitt, who was getting all the media attention these days, would handle the raid.
    She sensed the presence in the doorway behind her and swung around, fighting a wave of raw panic.
    But her fear metamorphosed into fury when she recognized the person hovering there.
    â€œWell, shit,” she said. “Don’t tell me this is your lab?”
    â€œYou shouldn’t be here, Bertha.”
    She stalked across the still room, waving a hand at the apparatus on the workbenches. “You’re dealing drugs, aren’t you? Is this that new crap I’ve been reading about in the papers? Enchantment dust, or whatever the hell they call it?”
    â€œStay away from me.” The figure in the doorway edged back nervously. “This is none of your business, Bertha.”
    â€œPeople are dying from this stuff.”
    â€œIt’s not my fault if the users fail to take the drug responsibly.”
    â€œThere is no responsible way to take it. They say it’s hugely addictive.”
    The figure retreated farther into the hallway. “I’m warning you, don’t come any closer.”
    â€œYou’re scum. Murdering, drug-dealing scum.” Memories of how close she had come to losing Sandra flashed through her brain, inciting a kind of fever. “People like you deserve to rot in green hell.”
    With a low roar, she broke into a run, charging the rest of the way across the lab room. Hands made rough and powerful from years of tunnel work were outstretched in front of her.
    â€œNo.” The figure in the doorway yelped in fear, turned, and fled down the hall to the left.
    Bertha reached the opening and rushed out into the dimly glowing corridor. The drug maker had already vanished into the nearby six-way intersection.
    Still in the grip of her fury, she ran several more feet before common sense returned.
    She knew better than most just how futile it would be to search any farther without having a fix on the dealer’s personal amber. The corridors that branched off in all