The Pool of Fire (The Tripods) by John Christopher Read Free Book Online

direction. We went toward it, and reached it as a figure, carrying a lamp, turned a corner in the corridor within. He held the lamp higher, shining it in our faces.
    “You’re a bit late,” he said. “We’d given you up for today.”
    I went forward with a laugh. I still could not see his face, but I knew well enough whose voice it was: Beanpole’s.
    •  •  •
    Certain rooms (those facing seaward, for the most part) and a section of the dungeons had been refurbished and made habitable. We were given a good hot supper, of rich stew, followed by home-baked bread and a French cheese, wheel-shaped, dusted white outside, creamy yellow within, strong-tasting and satisfying. There was hot water to wash ourselves, and beds had been made up in one of the spare rooms: there were even sheets. We slept well, lulled by the roar and rumble of the sea breaking on the rocks, and awoke refreshed. At breakfast, others were present; I recognized two or three faces. Someone else who was familiar came in while we were eating. Julius hobbled across the room toward us, smiling.
    “Welcome, Fritz. And Will. It’s good to see you back with us.”
    We had asked questions of Beanpole, and received evasive answers. All would be explained in the morning, he told us. And after breakfast we went, with Julius and Beanpole and half a dozen others, to a huge room on the castle’s first floor. There was a great gaping window looking out to sea, across which a frame of wood and glass had been fastened, and an enormous fireplace in which wood crackled and burned. We sat down on benches, behind a long, rough-hewn table, in no particular order. Julius spoke to us.
    “I shall satisfy the curiosity of Will and Fritz first,”he said. “The rest of you must bear with me.” He looked at us. “This is one of several places at which research into ways of defeating the Masters is being carried out. Many ideas have been put forward, some of them ingenious. But before considering any seriously we have to overcome our major problem, which is that we still, despite the report you two made, know so little about our enemy.”
    He paused for a moment. “A second group was sent north to the Games last summer. Only one qualified to be taken into the City. We have heard nothing more of him. He may yet escape but we cannot depend on that. In any case, it is doubtful that he would bring us the information we want. Because what we really need, we have decided, is one of the Masters in our hands, alive for preference, so that we can study him.”
    My face may have shown skepticism; I have always heard it shows too much. At any rate, Julius said, “Yes, Will, an impossible requirement, one would think. But perhaps not quite impossible. This is why you two have been called in to help us. You have actually seen the inside of a Tripod, when you were being taken to the City. You have, it is true, described it to us already, and fully. But if we are going to capture a Master, we must get him out from the metal stronghold in which he strides about our lands. And for that the smallest recollection which you may be able to dredge from your memories could be of help.”
    Fritz said, “You talk of taking one alive, sir. But how can that be done? Once he is out of the Tripod, he will choke, within seconds, in our atmosphere.”
    “A good point,” Julius said, “but we have an answer to it. You brought back samples from the City. We have learned how to reproduce the green air in which they live. A room has already been prepared here in the castle, sealed and with an airlock enabling us to pass in and out.”
    Fritz said, “But if you manage to lure a Tripod here, and wreck it . . . the others will come looking for it. They could destroy the castle easily enough.”
    “We also have a box big enough to hold one of them, and can seal that. If we make our capture further along the coast, we can bring him here by boat.”
    I said, “And the means of capturing, sir? I