Rebellion

CHAPTER 112

“Can Wil do it?” said Wil, swaying, for he was alkoyled to the eyeballs. “Can Wil undo Lyf’s work, and destroy the enemy too? Yes, yes he can. Wil can do anything.”

Three days had passed since Lyf had come after him, and only now was Wil game to creep out of his hiding place.

The great story of Cythe and Cython could not end this way. Something had to be done but the iron book was not ready. He had forged it for a third time, and thought the quality of the pages would do, but it would take months to etch the story into them. It could not be done in time because the story was racing off on its own, outside anyone’s control.

That could not be allowed.

Wil was going to make the Engine take charge.

Sobbing with terror, he lurched down the Hellish Conduit, going further than he had ever been before. He was carrying a platina bucket full of the purest form of alkoyl, a substance so rare and valuable that he could have bought half of Hightspall with it.

Wil went further than anyone had ever been. Right to the terror of the Engine he went, until his skin blistered like a roast chicken from the heat and the infernal radiance. But he felt no pain, only ecstasy.

He climbed up on top, his feet charring, and poured alkoyl in the one place where it should never go. Right into the works of the Engine at the heart of the world.