411 rode the Mytro through station after station. He had sensed the children somewhere in Prague, but he couldn't pinpoint their location after they left the bridge. Perhaps they were at the hiding place. Whatever power the girl's father used to build the station was also invisible to him. Only the Mytro knew where the children were, and it wasn't telling.
Even so, the Mytro trusted him. 411 had been there when the first Conductor Keys were made. The men who made them hadn't seen him, but the Mytro had sent him to watch their progress. It was endearing to see the humans struggle and succeed. It was beautiful to see them begin to understand something so complex with their limited minds. When they nearly harnessed the Mytro, it looked as if they would leave the instincts of their Neanderthal forbears behind.
Sadly it never came to pass.
The rails sang for a moment. The children had found the keys. The children must close the Breach, sang the rails.
The Breach? asked 411, and then he realized what the Mytro
meant. For months there had been a strange background noise on the rails, as if something were slowly cracking. The Nayzuns had ignored it—there were plenty of strange things on the rails—but now 411 understood. The Breach, the great power. If the humans broke the Breach, the Mytro would change forever.
The rails sang, telling 411 where to go.
411 sang back. His voice rang through the darkness and the Mytro answered. In a moment he knew where the children had to go. He simply had to find them now before the gunmen did.
YOU ARE READING
Imagine if, right now, clattering underneath your feet was a secret train system that could take you anywhere in minutes. Imagine a trip full of mystery and excitement from New York to Barcelona to the wind-swept coast of Italy to the edge of space...