Chapter 27 · Untitled Chapter

"Stay with me." Rowan crouched beside Pip and pressed one hand against the storm-beast's shoulder. "No heroics unless I ask for them."

Pip gave him a small, offended growl.

"That wasn't a suggestion." The floor answered with one slow, immense thump. Crystal shelves shivered in their brass cradles, and dust jumped from the seams between the black tiles.

Across the archive, Lyra gripped the central console. Ash streaked her pale face. The royal seal she'd destroyed still burned in her palm, its broken channels glowing like cracks in a dying coal.

"They're opening the outer lock," she rasped.

Rowan looked toward the circular door. Red light pulsed through its seams. "How long?"

"Long enough for you to tell me you have a plan."

"I have several plans."

"Any of them good?"

"You keep asking unfair questions."

Another impact shook the archive. Somewhere beyond the door, ancient machinery groaned into motion. The root engine was waking.

Pip's antlers sparked weakly. Blue light crawled over the velvet tips, then died in a shower of harmless embers. The cub's injured wing hung low, and blood darkened the fur along its ribs.

A voice rolled from the archive speakers.

"You've done remarkably well, Lyra.