That wouldn't be good, not where alkahest is involved.

They used it in the First Sorcerous War, but not in the Second. It's just too potent, even as a weapon. As it eats its way straight toward the center of the earth, it's liable to bring magma or ancient buried Powers through the channel: up iit cuts. Nobody even stockpiles it - how could you?

So, no alkahest under the Devonshire dump. Instead, the designers had put in the usual makeshifts: blessings and relics and holy texts from every faith known to mankind, and elaborate spells renewed twice a year to use the law of contagion to extend their effect to the places where they weren't actually buried.

"It looks like a good arrangement on parchment," I said grudgingly. "I presume you rigidly adhere to the resanctification schedule." I made it sound as if I assumed nothing of the sort.

Tony Sudakis set more parchments in front of me. "Certification under canon law, the ordnances of the Baron of Angels, and national secular law."

I examined them. They looked like what they were supposed to be. The dump management outfit might have forged the secular documents; the worst the Baron of Angels can do is send you to jail, the worst the secular power can do is leave you short a head. But you'd have to be pretty bold to forge a canon lawyer's hand or seal. The punishment for that land of offense could go on forever.

I shoved the pile of parchments back at Sudakis. Now my tone of voice was different "I have to admit I don't know what to tell you. This really does look good on parchment. But something's not right hereabouts; I know that too." I told him about the rest of the birth defects I'd spotted, the vampirism and lycanthropy.