Read Online The Way of the Soul by Stuart Jaffe - Free Book Online

smaller pipes fed into the main one. As she sped down the pipe, vibrations in the metal worked up her legs, but at these junctions, she sensed that large amounts of liquid rushed ahead of her. The longer she ran, the heavier the vibrations became and the more the liquid flowed.
    After a long time — she could not count minutes and hours under the shifting light and shadow of the swamp canopy — she heard metallic clanging ahead. Reon slowed her pace. She tried to soften her steps as she moved closer, but it wasn’t really necessary — the clanging covered most sounds. Pushing back several leaves, she discovered the source of the noise as well as the destination of the pipe — a factory.
    The interconnecting buildings that made up the factory rose behind a monumental iron wall like the old fortress-castles that housed the evil warlocks in the stories Reon read as a child. She had loved those stories. They transported her away from home. But as much as the factory resembled the old storybook castles, the smell of sweat and soot coupled with the incessant noise promised less of a happy ending. At several sections along the wall, pipes poked out, spewing water down the side and into the swamp. Black and gray smoke streamed up from deep within the buildings.
    As the sun set, harsh amber lights flickered on along the top of the wall. Muted red lights dotted the tops of buildings, and low to the ground, several blue lights blinked on and off. The red lights made sure aircraft did not hit the tall buildings, though Reon had not heard or seen any planes, jets, or other type of flying machine. The blue lights probably marked the doors.
    In the sky, Reon now noticed several circular objects flying by — automated surveillance. That’s why she missed them before — they only fly around the factory. They traveled a slow and obvious pattern, each one performing a lazy figure eight. It took only a few minutes of study for Reon to spot the gaps.
    She lowered to the ground and used the big pipe to hide her movement. She stepped closer. Timing would be easy. She could dash to the wall during the surveillance gaps before any of the flying craft spotted her. Then she simply had to find a way inside.
    As she watched the little discs curve away from her, she wondered why she had the urge to go in. But she knew the reason was the same for everything — Lord Harskill. He had put her here, in this situation — why else if not to follow through on these things?
    She shook off these thoughts. There would be another time for debate. She had to act. She stared at the flying surveillance cameras and counted: three ... two ... one
    She sprinted across the open swamp, moving in a straight line for the factory wall. She could hear the constant whirring of the flying machines. But with the sun down, the darkness hid her well. Unless they were equipped with infrared sensors. Lord Harskill, please don’t let them have infrared. She pushed away those thoughts and simply ran until she reached the wall.
    Pressing her back against the cool metal, she held still while the surveillance flew overhead. Her pulse throbbed in her neck. She struggled to control her breathing. She counted again — a languid, faux-calm pace this time. When she reached ten, the surveillance had moved on and she had calmed for real.
    Staying close to the wall, she scurried along the side until she found a door — at least, she thought it was a door. It only reached up to her waist. Probably tall enough for the little creatures she had seen arguing earlier. A blue light above the door pulsed on and off in a steady rhythm. On the door itself, she saw a metal square — a lock, perhaps. Though she had little experience picking locks, she had to give it a try. If for no other reason, she suspected Lord Harskill observed her every move.
    She placed her hand on the door to steady herself. The door opened.
    Remember that one, Reon. Try the door first.
    A hall stretched forward — a