Klara lay on her stomach in the snow, hood up and half-mask in place with a telescope to her eye. Half a mile away to the east, and a few hundred feet lower than her, lay the uzhas mine. Ruslan Adamov and Nika lay on either side of her, also with telescopes.

  The mine entrance sat on a plateau, maybe two hundred feet deep and five hundred wide. The entrance to the compound was built on the southern end of the plateau, tucked into the mountain. On the western side of the plateau sat the storehouse for the coal. The ver-train track entered the plateau on the east and swept right to run by the storehouse.

  They’d watched one train deposit the coal into the building, then reverse to the compound entrance to be loaded up with liquid uzhas. Slaves—under heavy guard—brought tanks of the liquid up by rail from inside the compound.

  It had taken forty-three minutes to unload the coal and load up with uzhas. The plateau lay empty now. Except…

  Twisting the lens to bring the plateau into sharper focus, Klara asked, “Are there always guards patrolling the edge of the plateau?”

  “Yes,” Adamov said. “two to three-hour long shifts—to minimise exposure to the cold. There are usually twenty guards out, and their rotation times are staggered. The plateau is never unguarded.”

  “How are we going to get on then?” Nika asked.

  “Good question,” Klara muttered, focusing on the train track. “How often does the train travel up?”

  “Every few hours,” Adamov said.

  Klara traced the track down the mountain. Every few hundred yards a short tower rose beside the track, each set on top of a blocky building. About half way down the mountain, the track disappeared into a tunnel. One tower sat at the top end of the tunnel, but the next wasn’t until the bottom end of the tunnel. No sooner did the track emerge from the tunnel than it twisted to run left behind a cliff. Klara lost sight of it until it flattened out far below by the tiny dot of the “storage depot.”

  “Are they light towers?” Klara asked.

  “Yes,” Nika said. “Though they look a more compact version of the Alchemist’s usual light towers. Shorter range so not such a powerful gas lamp needed.”

  Klara lowered her telescope, her lips pursed as she stared at the track and the towers. “What about hijacking the train to get into the mine?”

  “I think not,” Adamov said. “The towers are used to communicate between the mine and the factory, but they are also to monitor the ver-train—to make sure no one does something foolish. Like trying to hijack it.”

  “All right,” Klara said and sucked her teeth. “That rules out that idea.”

  Nika rolled to her side, so she faced Klara. “You know, I don’t think it does.”

  “Of course it does,” Adamov said. “There is no section of track that can’t be seen from at least one tower. They track it with spotlights, too.”

  “Yeah,” Nika said, “but look at that tower”—she pointed to the one at the bottom end of the tunnel—“see how the mountain rises between it and the one above? The base of the tower is hidden. The next tower down I can just see through a split in the cliff. It’s much further down… far enough away that it leaves the bottom tunnel tower vulnerable.”

  Klara gazed at the tower in question. As Nika said, it was isolated. “So we take the tower first?”

  “You might take the outpost,” Adamov said, “but the light tower is used all the time for communication, if they miss even one message, they’ll raise the alarm.”

  “I know,” Nika said. “And what’s worse is that every tower can see the message from at least the previous two, ensuring that the message is the same and that nothing has disrupted the signal. What’s more, at the start of every message there’s a code that’s on rotation based on message number of the day. Each tower has a different code. So the only way it’d work is if we took the tower between messages, and someone ran the light tower.”

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  “You know a disturbing amount about those towers,” Klara said.

  Nika shrugged. “It’s a fascinating system of communication. Despite what you might think, most of these towers over Serovnya aren’t run by Alchemists. The Service Guild runs them—I assume Alchemists have better things to do with their time than sitting in lonely towers staring at lights all day.”

  “These towers are run by Alchemists,” Adamov said.

  “I don’t doubt,” Nika said. “But the towers are the same aside from size.”

  “And I suppose you know how to run one?” Klara asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Actually, yes. My cousin is in the Service Guild. He got me in one down in South Serovnya.”

  “Why didn’t I know that?”

  Nika gave Klara a funny look. “Half your family are Alchemists. Did you really expect me to go bragging about knowing how their precious technology works?”

  Klara flushed. “Right.”

  “Even if we can take a tower between messages,” Adamov said, thoughtful, “we’ll need to abandon the tower at some point. Then an alarm will be raised. The towers take two people to run, one for up messages, one for down. Can you sacrifice that much of your crew for the entire mission?”

  Klara sucked her lower lip as she gazed down at the mine. They had a possible way onto the plateau, and if Yeger’s idea was possible, maybe a way into the lower level of the mine. What could they achieve with that, though? Klara turned to face Adamov. “What’s the emergency procedure if prisoners revolt?”

  He frowned, his grey eyes critical. “It depends on the damage they’re causing. Several boosted squads are usually deployed to stop anything serious happening. Too many would remain in the compound for us to get through to the depths.”

  “You said the lower level is filled with equipment and machinery, yes?”

  Adamov nodded.

  “What if,” Klara said, her mind racing through options. “What if all that machinery were to… explode?”

  “That much destruction and you might just get most of the battalion down there. There are nearly five hundred prisoners in the lower level. If the commander suspects they’re all involved in an uprising, he’d take heavy measures. But… I still doubt he’d send them all. If I were him, I’d prepare for an external attack too.”

  “All right…” Klara sank into silence for a minute. “How carefully do you think they’d be checking the identification of soldiers running around in battle gear—half-masks in place?”

  The corners of Adamov’s eyes creased ever so slightly in a smile. “Not at all, I’d think. You’d need Alchemist soldier coats though.”

  “After we just raided a tower with Alchemist soldiers in it? That should be possible.” Klara drummed her fingers against the snowy ledge. “What if we could take two towers, at both ends of the tunnel? We could control communication and cause more chaos. Perhaps word the Sentinels have struck the factory? How would the commander respond to that, do you think?”

  Adamov shook his head. “So far you require a team twice the size of what you have. Taking two towers? Each has a dozen men and women—that’s twenty-four people to subdue—then you need a crew to get down to the lower level. Probably a few to do the amount of damage you’re talking. And you need enough left to escort your mother to the depths to get the uzhas.”

  Klara deflated, hating to admit that Adamov was right.

  “Is there anyone else we can get?” Nika asked. “Surely there are enough people in Serovnya who would happily see the Alchemists fall?”

  “Yeah,” Klara said, “good luck convincing them that a raid on the depths is the way to go, though.”

  Nika leaned back, looking past Klara at Adamov. “What about the guildless?”

  Adamov's expression darkened. “Do not even consider it. You’re not dragging them into a war which would certainly get them killed.”

  “Fair. What about Koskov Keeper?” Nika asked Klara. “Your father seemed quite eager to help you.”

  The mention of her father sent a flash of guilt through Klara’s hearts. His broken blade still hung by her side. He’d had that knife as long as she could remember. According to Uncle Yuri, he even wore it the day he married Elana. Somehow she doubted he’d be impressed by her breaking it. Especially in an attempt to kill Voronina. How many times had he told her the blade had never tasted human blood?

  “I don’t doubt Father knows of Ledavsk by now. Their attention will be on fortifying Katavsk. They’re not going to spare anyone for a mission as suicidal as this.” Klara slid back away from the ledge and stood once out of sight of the mine. “Lying in the snow isn’t going to solve this. Come on.”

  Adamov and Nika joined her as she picked her way along the ridge to the far side of the peak that hid Vera’s Revenge from the Alchemists.

  There was nothing for it, she’d have to ask Yuri’s crew to join them. No one else was available. Klara glanced back at Adamov. Maybe she could convince him to stay and fight? No one knew the mine better than him. He’d be invaluable. But he’d been so firm on leaving after two days, and they were already over half a day through that time limit…