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

still in one piece. Moreover, the dial on the top showed that it was fully charged.
    Atrus laughed, delighted. Reaching out, he smoothed its upper surface almost lovingly. At least he knew now that the principle was sound. If he could only find the right vent, if he could only get the pressure right, then it would work and they would have an unlimited supply of electricity. Their lives would be transformed. The cleft would shine like a cat’s eye in the desert night.
    Smiling, Atrus raised his head, looking directly ahead of him. For a moment a cloud of steam obscured his view. Then, as it cleared, he found himself staring into blackness.
    It was a cave. Or a tunnel of some kind.
    He stood, then took a step toward it.
    Strange. It seemed almost as though it had been carved from the surrounding rock.
    The steam swirled back, concealing it.
    “Atrus!”
    He turned, looking up at Anna, high above him, silhouetted against the crater’s lip.
    “Come up! Come up here now!”
    Atrus frowned. “But my battery …”
    “Now!”

     
    WALKING BACK, SHE WAS UNNATURALLY silent. Then, suddenly, she stopped and turned to face him.
    “Atrus, what did you see?”
    “I saw …” He hesitated, surprised by her question.
    “Atrus. Answer me. What did you
see?
”
    “My battery. My battery was charged.”
    She let out her breath. “And was that all?”
    “There was steam. Lots of steam.” He frowned, then. “My battery. I’ve got to get my battery.”
    He made to turn back, but she placed a hand gently on his arm. “Forget the battery. It’s too dangerous. Now come, let’s clean you up.”

 4 
     
    T HE MOON WAS BARELY UP WHEN, MAKING sure not to wake his grandmother, Atrus crept out. Taking a rope and the large piece of sack from the storeroom, he ventured out onto the volcano’s slope.
    Halfway up the slope he paused, feeling a renewed sense of shock at the altered shape of the caldera’s rim. That physical change seemed somehow linked to another, deeper change within himself.
    Atrus stood at the rim, looking down the loose path that hugged the volcano’s inner slope. Staring down into that darkness he experienced a sense of threat he’d not felt before.
    He climbed over the rim, moving down into the darkness, disconcerted by the unfamiliar rumbling that emanated from the depths below. A tiny shiver ran up his spine, stirring the hairs at the back of his neck.
    Out on the volcano’s floor it was strangely warm and humid. Atrus looked about him, then slowly made his way across, his heart pounding, his eyes searching the nearest outcrops of rock. Steam swirled and hissed, wreathing those shapes, transforming them in the moon’s fine, silvered light.
    The battery was where he left it. For a moment he crouched over it, his left hand resting loosely on its familiar casing. But his eyes were drawn to the tunnel’s mouth. Compelled, he walked across.
    Then, taking the tinderbox from his inner pocket, he pressed the catch and stepped inside.
    In the glowing light from the tinder he could see how the tunnel stretched away into the darkness, sloping gradually, like a giant wormhole cutting through the solid rock. It was cool there. Surprisingly so. As if a breeze was blowing from within the tunnel.
    He walked on, counting his steps. At fifty paces he stopped and turned, looking back at the way he’d come. From where he stood he could not see the entrance. The curve of the tunnel obscured it from sight.
    He walked on, as if in some kind of spell, compelled to see where this led.
    The smell of sulfur was far less strong than it had been. Other, stranger smells filled the air. Musty, unfamiliar smells.
    Atrus turned and went over to the wall, placing his palm against it. It was cool and smooth and dry. He was about to move away when some irregularity farther down the wall drew his attention. He walked over to it, holding up the tinder, then stopped. Facing him a single word had been cut into the wall—a huge thing half his own