The enemy stronghold – this so-called factory – was quite possibly the ugliest building Alu had ever seen. Those transparent, rotating images that Zayne produced from her tiny machine didn’t do it justice.
A cube of rough stone with deep indentations along each wall, it stood under the glare of harsh lights on tall poles. He had been observing the building for nearly half an hour, waiting for the signal to attack. So far, it had been an uneventful evening. A ceiling of clouds had drifted in over the city, blotting out the stars.
Miri’s description of this place had left him with the impression that it housed a treasure more valuable than gold or jewels, but if that was true, you would never know it from the outside. He had expected a wall or a fence or something that would present a chal
