The Far Dawn by Kevin Emerson Page B

pointing to a round grate at the base of the structure.
    Lük shakes away the doubt and kneels. Together, he and Kael remove the grate. There is a row of glowing glass tubes that transport the energy from the turbines. Lük opens the heavy bag he’s carried and pulls out a polished block of metallic stone: magnetite. His fingers find a seam in the top and he pulls off a heavy lid, revealing a chamber full of bright yellow powder. He rummages through his bag for a small dagger and a leather satchel that is damp to the touch. He loosens the drawstring and removes a spool of twine, soaked in oil. This will be the fuse for the bomb. He unspools the twine, placing one end in the powder, then he closes the lid, and places the box atop the glass tubes.
    He scrambles back from the vent, heart racing, unrolling the twine for a few meters then cutting it. He rummages in the bag one more time and produces a flint.
    Kael joins him. “Ready?”
    â€œYeah,” says Lük. “This is will give us thirty seconds to get up that tunnel.”
    â€œSure wish we could fly,” says Kael, and the look he shares with Lük says he knows it’s not enough time.
    Lük sees that Rana is still over by the Paintbrush. She’s staring at the wall of wheels and levers and glass tubes. “Rana,” says Lük. “Come on.”
    â€œWait . . .” She peers closer, her brow furrowed.
    â€œLet’s go!” Kael hisses, checking over his shoulder.
    But Lük sees Rana’s eyes widening. “What is it?” he asks.
    â€œThere are handprints . . . ,” she says absently, gazing into the machinery.
    â€œWhat?” Lük asks.
    â€œOur names,” she adds. Rana’s eyes flash to Lük and Kael. She is deathly pale. “Look at this.”
    Lük steps cautiously over, his body humming with worry, the fuse shaking in his hand. Kael joins him. Rana points and Lük examines the wall of gadgetry. There in the center is a flat panel with three handprints. They are recessed in metal, and in the handprints, tiny white spikes stick up at regular intervals. I want to tell Lük that I know these all too well. Above each handprint is a name etched in copper: KAEL, RANA, LÜK .
    â€œWhy are those there?” Kael asks numbly.
    â€œBecause they’re for you!”
    The voice booms through the cavern. Lük whirls to see Master Solan sweeping out of the tunnel, flanked by soldiers. The one beside him holds Alara, her hands bound behind her back. The other masters follow right behind in a procession, hoods up.
    â€œThat’s right!” Master Solan calls, seeing their stunned faces. “The Paintbrush needs three people to operate it. And who better than you?”

11
    â€œLIGHT THE FUSE!” RANA SHOUTS, HER FACE WHITE. Lük is in shock, and I feel the spike of fear and panic but certainty. . . . Yes, light the fuse, we will die but it has to be now —
    Only just then he feels a terrible pain and staggers back, a short arrow sunk in his shoulder. The fuse slips from his numb fingers.
    And then the guards have reached them. Strong arms fold around Lük’s shoulders.
    â€œYes, well, here we are.” Master Solan strides toward them, hands clasped behind his back. He looks down at Lük’s explosive. “Magnet charge. That would definitely have caused some damage. Luckily, you all have reeked of treachery for months, and you”—he turns to Alara—“for years.”
    â€œAsk the Terra whose cause is more treacherous,” she says defiantly.
    Solan ignores this. “So, what do you think of my extra design feature? I thought it would be appropriate for you three to be the ones to save us, since you were so determined to ensure our destruction.”
    â€œWe’ll never help you,” Rana says bravely. “You’ll have to kill us.”
    Master Solan smiles. “I don’t have to