Satisfied both women were unharmed, Malik turned away, his gaze sweeping over Vic and Cathal. They were covered in dust and grime, but neither of them had been injured in the blast. Likewise, Obsidian still had all its limbs intact.
A hissing sound filled the landing bay then.
All gazes swiveled to the armored door: the center of it glowed red-hot. They hadn’t been able to breach the locks, but they were going to burn through it.
“Time to go,” Malik announced.
He set off toward the stairs leading up to the walkway, but his step faltered when Cathal called out behind him, “Wait!”
Swiveling around, Malik saw the clan-lord striding toward the central core. The wide golden column dominated the landing bay. “My Lord,” he called out. “We have to go … now.”
The entrance door was starting to smoke; time was running out.
The clan-lord ignored him. Instead, Cathal ripped off the covering of one of the panels and plunged his hand into the core.
Pain rippled across his face, yet he held tight.
“Cathal! What are you doing?” Isla rushed down from the walkway and clambered over the rubble to reach her husband. Jenna followed close at her heels.
“We don’t have time for this,” Vic muttered, stepping up next to Malik.
Malik’s pulse quickened. He didn’t know what the clan-lord was up to—but he was close to wrecking this rescue attempt.
“My Lord,” he barked, moving close. Cathal had just punched something into a digital display. “You can’t—”
His voice cut off as his gaze alighted upon the panel. The numbers ‘15:00’ glowed up at him.
The fine hair on the back of Malik’s neck prickled.
“It’s all right,” Cathal replied, pressing a button. The display started to count down. “I’m done here.”
The clan-lord stepped back then and tried to pull his hand from the opening.
He grunted, pain rippling over his face. He then cursed.
Isla’s brow furrowed. “What’s happening?”
“Have you just activated a DNA lock?” Jenna demanded, her tone brittle.
He nodded.
“On what exactly?”
Cathal’s jaw bunched as he struggled to pull his hand free. “I set a pyro-detonator to go off in fifteen minutes,” he muttered. “Why the fuck won’t this thing release me?”
Jenna gasped. “Why would you put a bomb in the central core?”
Cathal met her gaze, his dark eyes wild, sweat beading on his brow. “I didn’t … this was our grandfather’s idea.” His throat bobbed then. “Father told you aboutThe Passage… but he didn’t telleitherof us about the detonator. He left instructions behind that I could only read after his death. No one but the incumbent ruler of our clan can know about it.” He tore his gaze from hers and looked at where his hand had been swallowed up by the column. “It’s driven three spikes into my palm … but they’re supposed to retract once the timer’s been set.”
Silence fell in the landing bay, broken only by muffled, angry shouts and the hiss of blowtorches behind the armored door.
Cathal’s face had drained of blood as his gaze swept over the small crowd that had gathered about him. When he spoke, his voice came out in a rasp. “Any ideas?”
Malik glanced over at where the battle-droid observed the unfolding scene. “Obsidian … can you take a look? Be careful though.”
With a nod, the droid moved up to the central core. Gently, it inserted a finger into the console next to the display. Obsidian emitted a low hum while it ran diagnostics.
Moments slid past, and sweat trickled down Malik’s neck. He glanced over at the door. Lazda steel was hard to breach, although the red center was spreading now.
