Leaving Pella and Eren to monitor the hot rock face, Inspector Korr Var and Sergeant Kray climbed back through the air-flow back gate into the academy compound. Armed with their town warrant and Ada’s exact map points, they marched directly to the upper tracking data gallery.
Two academy clerks tried to bar their way to the white-painted wheel. It shouted that Valve Twenty-Two-B was part of the consecrated ringing circuit. Sergeant Kray shoved them aside with the butt of his axe-spear. Meanwhile, Korr Var stepped to the pipe, threw his iron staff through the spokes of the wheel for extra leverage. Then he cranked the bronze spindle clockwise.
The valve groaned, its threads stiff with dried paint and stone scale. Then it turned with a sharp, echoing snap. One turn... Two turns... Three full turns.
Deep below in the dark karst passage, Pella held her stethoscope to the wall. For thirty seconds, the violent hissing continued. Then, with a long, gurgling wheeze that sounded like an iron boiler running cold, the steam died. The sound roar faded into total silence, replaced only by the gentle dripping of water in the limestone pool.
Pella touched the rock face. The blistering heat was receding, the stone cooling rapidly under the influence of the mountain draft. ‘The leak is isolated,’ Pella reported into the slate. ‘The steam is dead. Eren, bring the mortar bag.’
