The Myst Reader by Robyn Miller Read Free Book Online Page A

tinderbox.
    Leaning over, one hand supporting him against the rock arm, he held the flame beneath the end of the twine fuse on the dangling box, then, when it had caught, released the catch and stepped back.
    For a moment he thought it had gone out, then, with a fizz, it began to burn fiercely.
    Atrus turned and, half-running up the slope, scrambled over the rim, making for the winch.
    This was the most crucial part. If the fuse burned too quickly, or if for some reason the winch jammed, things would go wrong.
    Kneeling beside the brake wheel, he slowly began to turn it, listening to it click and click and click, all the while tensed against a sudden detonation, all the while counting in his head.
    When he’d counted twenty, he threw himself down, stretched out flat behind the pile of stones, his hands over his ears.
    … twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six …
    The explosion rocked the side of the volcano. It had been four seconds early, even so that didn’t matter, the box would have been in the correct place, opposite the fault.
    Atrus laughed, then, dusting himself off, stood. As the echoes died, he could hear, through the ringing in his ears, the sound he’d hoped to hear—the strong hiss of steam forcing its way through the cap and an accompanying high-pitched mechanical whine.
    Still laughing, he climbed up onto the lip and looked down. The winch-arm had gone, as had a large chunk of the ledge, but the vent—protected by the huge rock—was fine. Steam hissed from the cap in a steady, forceful stream.
    Turning, looking down at Anna where she stood on the cleftwall, he raised his arms and waved to her eagerly, grinning with triumph.
    “It works!” he yelled, pulling the mask down from his nose and mouth. “It works!”
    From below Anna waved back to him, then, cupping her hands before her mouth, she shouted something, but it was difficult to make out what she was saying, his ears were ringing so much. Besides, the furious hissing of the steam, that high-pitched whine, seemed to grow by the moment.
Go back
, she’d said, or something like it. Grinning, he nodded, then, waving to her again, turned back to watch the hissing cap.
    “It worked,” he said quietly, noting how the cap was trembling now, rattling against the four restraining pins. “It really worked.”
    Climbing down, he went across and, taking care not to get
too
close, edged around until he could see the gauges.
    Yes!
A thrill of excitement went through him, seeing how both arrows were deep in the red.
It was passing a charge!
    He stood back, grinning, then felt himself go cold. Even as he watched, one of the metal pins began to move, easing itself slowly from its berth within the rock, as though some invisible but mighty hand were pulling it from the stone.
    Slowly he began to edge away. As he did, the noise from the cap changed, rising a full octave, as if that same invisible hand had pressed down on the key of an organ.
    Atrus turned and, scrambling up the slope and over the rim, began to run, ignoring the impact of the heat, fighting it … but it was like running through some thick, glutinous substance. He had gone barely ten paces when he tumbled forward, coming up facing the way he’d come. And as he did, the whole of the rim behind him seemed to lift into the air.

     
    COMING TO, ATRUS LOOKED UP, SURPRISED by the sight that met his eyes. On every side, the great walls of the volcano stretched up, forming a jagged circle where they met the startling blueness of the sky.
    He was in the crater—the rim must have given way.
    Slowly he got to his feet. Steam billowed across the rock-cluttered floor of the volcano, concealing its far edges. From time to time a figure would form from the clouds, the crystalline shapes strangely beautiful.
    He saw the battery at once. Going over to it, he crouched, then shook his head, amazed by its condition. It was virtually untouched. The polished stone exterior had a few buffs and scratches, but it was