Текст книги "The Darkling Child"

Автор книги: Terry Brooks

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

TWENTY-TWO

REYN FROSCH ROSE FROM OUT OF A BLACK PIT, LIFTED BY THE rocking motion of the pallet on which he lay, summoned by the howling of a furious wind. He came from a long way down, a slow ascent back to wakefulness, his senses struggling to focus as his eyes blinked and his arms clutched protectively at his body. The world was gray, and there was a sense of not being anyplace he recognized or even anywhere solid but instead of being suspended in nothingness. He swallowed against the dryness in his throat, coughing hard as he did so, his body shaking.

“Hold on, hold on!” a voice muttered.

An aleskin was held to his lips and the pungent liquid slid between his lips and down his throat to loosen the tightness and waken him further. He drank greedily, hands lifting to clutch the skin so he could continue.

“There, that’s enough,” his benefactor announced, taking the skin away. “Let’s sit you up. Then I have to get back to flying.”

Hands pulled him from his slumped-over fetal position to one where he was sitting upright, and he found himself in a padded seat. Wind rushed against his exposed skin. He was flying in an airship below a sky thick with mist and gloom.

He fixed his gaze on the figure at the helm of the fast clipper.

Arcannen.

His memory came back in a rush. Slipping out from the sorcerer’s underground lair into the ruins of Arbrox to face the men who had come to kill them. Searching the shifting haze until suddenly Arcannen was no longer there, and he was alone. Facing a giant with a huge beast on a chain, then another man with smaller beasts. Summoning the wishsong to create images and in the end to fool the beasts into attacking one of their handlers. Watching both men die—one by his hand, one by Lariana’s …

Lariana!

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice a rough croak, almost lost in the wind’s rush. “What’s happened to her?”

Arcannen glanced over his shoulder. “If you are referring to Lariana, I imagine she’s with the Druid and her protector. She’ll be all right.”

“You left her?”

Reyn was incensed. He struggled to rise, to charge forward and take command of the controls, to turn this craft about and fly back to where she had been abandoned and rescue her. But without even looking at him, the sorcerer struck him hard across the face and shoved him back into his seat, where he collapsed once more.

“I went to a lot of trouble to save you. Kindly don’t undo my efforts. Lariana will be fine. She knew this might happen. We talked about it long before now. Give her some credit for being able to take care of herself.”

The blow still stung as Reyn shifted to a sitting position and rubbed his face. Blood dripped from his nose. He felt suddenly drained, robbed of strength and hope, despairing. “Why didn’t you bring her with us?”

“That would have been difficult.”

“You would say that, wouldn’t you?”

“I say it because it is true. Think back. You were caught in a standoff with Bael Etris. He had a knife at your throat. He was clearly mad—raving and unpredictable. The Druid and her protector were too far away to do anything. You were frozen in place. So I used magic to create a smoke screen that hid all of you while I freed you and dispatched Etris. Lariana must have woken and stumbled away, probably in shock. I didn’t know where she was. I could only save you. I did what I had to.”

Reyn was not satisfied with his explanation. The sorcerer’s calmness only served to make him angrier. He could explain all he wanted to but in the end the result was the same. He had left Lariana behind, something Reyn would never have done.

“You don’t know what they will do to her,” he said finally.

Arcannen chuckled. “Oh, you think they might hurt her, do you? Hardly. They want me. And quite possibly you, knowing you have magic. They don’t care about her. They will try to discover where I am once they’ve figured out I didn’t die in the attack. But she won’t tell them. She’s too clever for that. She’ll lead them on a bit and then free herself and come find me. She knows how to do that. I told you, we worked it out a while back.”

Reyn was confused. Worked it out? Arcannen couldn’t have known how the confrontation with those hunters was going to turn out. He couldn’t have known that the Druids would come searching for him in the ruins of Arbrox. So what was he talking about? Worked out what?

“Why didn’t you stay close to me when we went out to face those men? Why did you disappear? Where were you?”

“Searching for you the entire time. Trying to reach you. I managed to get myself turned around in the mist. When the attack came, I was too late reaching you to make a difference. That was clever of you, though—using one of your images to turn those animals on Mallich. What a surprise that must have been! I always knew they’d kill him one day. Those beasts were too dangerous for the amount of trust he put in himself as their handler.”

“Hunting animals?” Reyn asked. “I’ve never seen their like.”

“Fighting animals. Killers. Used in sporting contests and on fugitive hunts. Dangerous beasts just standing still. Impossible to control if there’s blood to be had. You saw for yourself.”

“You should have warned me. You should have been there to help me. You promised.”

Arcannen shrugged. “I told you I might not be available when you needed me and not to be overly dependent. You learned a valuable lesson today. And no harm done. Besides, Lariana was there when you needed help. Wasn’t that enough?”

No, Reyn thought, it wasn’t. He’d had to save his own life and been forced to kill someone yet again. And once again, he had gone catatonic in the process. So while there was no harm done to him physically, he’d suffered more than enough emotionally. Arcannen’s explanation for why he had left him on his own felt weak. Lost in the mist? Turned around? He was seething as he puzzled it through.

“What did you do to the man with the knife?”

“Etris? As I said, I disposed of him. How I did it doesn’t matter. Do you want something to eat? We still have a way to go.”

Reyn rubbed his face again. The sting of the blow was beginning to diminish. “You had time to kill him, but not to save Lariana?”

There was a long silence. “Yes, Reyn. I had time to kill him but not save Lariana. If I had tried, we would all be in the hands of the Druids. Now do you think you can let go of your anger and stop whining about things you can’t change?”

The boy lapsed into sullen silence, hardly appeased, barely able to restrain himself even now. What held him back was what the sorcerer had said about Lariana knowing what to do if they became separated. This bothered him in a way he couldn’t explain. At the very least, it suggested she was privy to information that had been deliberately kept from him. She was the sorcerer’s assistant, but he couldn’t help wondering suddenly if she was something more. She certainly knew things he didn’t, and she had demonstrated this on more than one occasion. He just hadn’t thought much about it before now.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Now, there’s the question you should have asked in the beginning.” Arcannen flashed him a smile. “We’re going to Sterne.”

Reyn blinked. “Why are we going there?”

The sorcerer turned away. “To finish what we started.”

Paxon and Avelene were shepherding Lariana toward their airship—keeping her between them, still conscious of the possibility she might attempt to flee. They had left their vessel moored out in the mists some distance back from the coast and the ruins of Arbrox, giving their Troll crew responsibility for keeping watch over it while they were away. They had taken time to bring Bael Etris down off the cliff face where he was hanging from that iron rod and bury him beneath a pile of heavy rocks. But the animals that had killed his companion were roaming around somewhere, and there was nothing they could do to prevent them from returning when they got hungry enough and digging up the dead man for food.

“Where are we going?” Avelene asked the girl for the second time, her patience clearly wearing thin. “We want to help you, but we won’t if you don’t tell us what you intend. Where are you taking us? How can you know where Arcannen is?”

Lariana’s young features tightened. “You don’t trust me?”

Avelene rolled her eyes. “Just tell me how you know where to find him.”

Lariana shrugged. “It’s simple enough. Arcannen wants revenge for what happened in Arbrox. He wants to get his hands on the Commander of the Red Slash. What did you say his name was? Usurient? He knew Usurient would send hunters to kill him, so he waited on them and dispatched them. If they failed in their efforts, he believed Usurient would bring the entire Red Slash to flush him out.”

Paxon stared. “All of them? That’s five hundred men and women. Why would he use a force that size?”

Lariana shrugged. “To demonstrate how powerful he is? To make certain that this time Arcannen doesn’t escape him? It doesn’t matter. All that’s changed. Usurient won’t come here now. Not after seeing you.” She paused. “So Arcannen will go after him.”

Avelene nodded. “To Sterne? Where the Red Slash is based?”

“Wouldn’t you, if you were him?” Lariana looked off into the mists. Ahead, the Druid airship came into view. “He told me he could never forgive the massacre of the people at Arbrox. He was there; he saw it all happen. They killed every man, woman, and child in the village. They made no effort to take prisoners. Those were his friends. Arcannen is an odd man. A man with his own idea of what constitutes right and wrong. He doesn’t think like we do. How others see him doesn’t matter. He will do whatever he feels is necessary to balance the scales. To avenge the dead at Arbrox, he will hunt down those he holds responsible. Since Usurient thinks him dead, he won’t be expecting him. So that’s exactly where he will go. He is on his way to Sterne.”

Paxon thought about it. Would Arcannen brave Usurient and the Red Slash in their own barracks? In the city where they had established their home base? There was a symmetry to doing so that would appeal to the sorcerer. They had destroyed his home; now he would destroy theirs. But how would he accomplish this?

“What does Reyn have to do with all this?” he asked Lariana.

“Arcannen says he wants to help Reyn. He says he knows all about his magic and understands how hard it is to have the use of something so dangerous. He calls it a wishsong; he claims it has a long history in Reyn’s family. Reyn doesn’t care about any of that; he just wants to find a way to stop hurting people. He doesn’t always have control of the magic; sometimes he can’t hold it back. When he gets angry or feels threatened it just breaks out of him. But he doesn’t want that. He isn’t like that.”

Paxon found himself thinking again of Chrysallin. His sister had experienced the same phenomenon, the magic exploding out of her unexpectedly in a moment of extreme stress and panic. Like this boy. And he wondered anew if what he had witnessed back there in the ruins when the boy seemed to lose focus entirely was a form of the catatonia that had claimed Chrys.

Yet he hesitated to make the leap. Reyn Frosch had to be an Ohmsford; no one else possessed the wishsong powers. And given there was only one Ohmsford still unaccounted for—his grandfather Railing’s twin brother—Reyn must be descended from Redden. Meaning he and Chrys shared the same bloodline, of twin brothers, but each born to a different one. Nothing about their lives was the same, yet there had to be a link somewhere that explained why the magic would affect each in the same way. Yet the secret behind that link might be found not in their lives but in the history of the magic itself.

“Why would Arcannen take Reyn with him to Sterne?” Avelene was asking.

“I think he wants his help against Usurient. I think that is what he has wanted all along. Arcannen has been teaching him how to manage his magic. He’s been doing this by having him practice with it. He has him create life-like images and then move them around. That’s what he was doing back at Arbrox when he was threatened by those men and their animals.” She hesitated. “But I’m not sure if he’s doing what he says.”

Paxon and Avelene exchanged a quick glance. “What do you mean?” the Druid asked.

Lariana sighed wearily. “Creating images is all he’s had Reyn do since he found him. That seems to be all that matters to him. But I don’t understand how it’s helping Reyn with his problem. What he needs to learn is control, and I don’t see how he’s learning that.”

“So you think maybe he wants to use Reyn for something bad, something that might harm him?”

The girl didn’t respond. Avelene scuffed her boot against the rocky terrain and signaled ahead to the Trolls aboard the airship to prepare to get under way. The Trolls immediately began attaching the radian draws to the light sheaths and winching them into place. The diapson crystals were engaged by an unhooding of the parse tubes, and a rope ladder was dropped over the side to allow for boarding.

“That’s what I think,” Lariana answered finally. She pulled her travel cloak more tightly about her, hunching her shoulders. “He’s not telling me everything, I know that much. Whatever he intends, I think he needs Reyn to make it happen. That’s why he took him to Sterne.”

Paxon thought about it. The wishsong was a powerful magic, capable of almost anything. It could easily be turned into a killing weapon if a magic wielder wanted to hurt others, if he was willing to go far enough.

Or, he amended, if the user lost control—as Reyn Frosch had been known to do. As Chrysallin had done.

But would he do so in this instance, facing the hardened soldiers of the Red Slash, men and women every bit as dangerous as he was, even without magic? Men and women against whom he, personally, held no grudge?

He glanced over at Avelene as they came up to the airship and began to climb aboard. She must be thinking about it, too, trying to decide what Arcannen intended to do with the boy. Whatever it was, they had to get to Sterne as quickly as possible and try to put a stop to it.

“Will you promise me something?” Lariana asked suddenly, turning to face them as they stood at the rope ladder. “I know I don’t have any right, but I’ll ask it anyway. Will you try not to hurt Reyn? Will try to help him? Will you at least let me help? He doesn’t have anybody but me. He seems strong because he has the wishsong, but he’s afraid of the magic and what it can do. He’s afraid to use it. I don’t think he understands the game that’s being played.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Avelene replied, giving Paxon a sideways glance. “But if we’re put in danger, we’ll have to defend ourselves.”

The girl nodded slowly. “I know this. I understand. But Reyn is very young. He’s been on his own for a long time, but he doesn’t understand the world that well. He can be misled. He can be made to do things he doesn’t intend to do. If you can help him …”

“You talk as if you’re older than he is, and I doubt you are. What are you? Sixteen? You barely know this boy, yet you worry for him as if he were …” She trailed off abruptly. “You love him, don’t you?”

Lariana hesitated. “Yes.” She said it in a way that dared them to contradict her. “More to the point, he loves me. He trusts me. He depends on me. I can’t abandon him. I won’t. That’s why I’m asking for your help. We both need it.”

Paxon went up the rope ladder, thinking about what she had just said. Something was wrong. Her admission sounded reasonable, but the fact that she had been recruited by Arcannen to help teach the boy control of the magic was troubling. Where exactly did her loyalties lie? If her chances in this world rested with the sorcerer, then why would she risk so much for the boy? Was she really in love with Reyn Frosch? She came from a place where young girls were bought and sold for very specific reasons, but never to act independently of their master’s wishes. Yet she seemed to be saying that this was what was happening here.

He could not help thinking that in his experience everyone who came in contact with Arcannen ended up damaged in some way. It made him wonder about Lariana.

And about Reyn Frosch.

The boy remained quiet for a time, thinking through what Arcannen had said. They were on their way to Sterne to find Usurient and the Red Slash. To finish what we started. But what exactly was that? They hadn’t actually started anything, had they? Usurient had sent those men to kill him—and likely all those with him—but had failed. It had cost them their lives. So now he intended to carry the fight to Usurient in Sterne. How would he do that? What did he intend?

He wanted to ask but at the same time he didn’t. He was afraid of the answer. He was frightened of what Arcannen wanted him to do. He had been promised he would be taught different uses for his magic while learning how to master its unstable power. He had been taught virtually nothing beyond how to create images of fighting men. He had been promised he would not be asked to hurt anyone when they were back in the ruins of Arbrox, but that hadn’t worked out at all. Why was there any reason to think things would be different this time?

He wished Lariana were there. He wished he could talk with her. She would find them, Arcannen had said.

“How is Lariana supposed to find us?” he asked the other, finally breaking the silence.

Arcannen glanced back. “I told her earlier what to do. She knows where we are going and what I intend. Once she gets free of the Druids, she will come looking. We won’t be hard to find. Her part in this is too important for her to fail.”

“What part? What do you mean?”

“Lariana is my student. She works for me. She does what I tell her to do, and she is very good at it. She knows what’s needed. Stop worrying.”

Reyn felt his heart sink. It was the truth, wasn’t it? Lariana wasn’t his. She was Arcannen’s, and the sorcerer was using her to persuade him. All along she had known so much about what was going to happen, about how to train him, about what he was supposed to do. She had guided him every step of the way. She had kissed him. Kissed him! She had made him feel good about himself for the first time in a long time. She was very clever and she had taken advantage of him.

He looked down at the planking of the decking at his feet and felt his heart break. He was a fool.

“What is it exactly that you intend?” he asked, no longer able to help himself from doing so. What was the point in pretending he wasn’t going to try? Fool or not, he could not abandon his hopes for Lariana and himself, for the possibility that he was mistaken.

“Well, in my experience, when someone tries to kill you and fails, they will probably try again. I’m not keen on that happening. Best I kill them first, don’t you think?”

“Usurient, you mean?”

“Yes, Dallen Usurient. Especially. He thinks me dead. He fled thinking he had killed me, and there is no one to tell him otherwise. We have plenty of time to reach him before he discovers the truth. We have time to set a trap and spring it.”

Reyn looked up. “We?”

“Yes. You’re to help me. It’s part of your debt to me for my aid in training you to control your magic. You can control it better than before, can’t you? You have been doing your exercises as Lariana instructed? Everything has gone just as it should?”

He did not want to give anything away. “Yes.”

“Then we have no problem, do we?”

“I don’t know. Why do I have to help at all? Can’t you do whatever you intend to Usurient without me? If you think you can catch him by surprise anyway—”

“No, no, no,” the other interrupted quickly. “Killing Usurient is only part of it. You still don’t understand, do you?”

He glanced back at Reyn and held his gaze. “Well, do you?”

The boy shook his head. “I guess not.”

“Then pay attention. We’re not going to stop with Usurient, boy. He’s only one of many responsible for what happened at Arbrox. We’re going to destroy the entire Red Slash command.”

TWENTY-THREE

THE DRUID AIRSHIP SLIPPED OUT OF THE NIGHT WITH ITS diapson-powered running lights dark and its Troll crew at the ready, descending into Sterne like a ghost. The public airfield lay below, empty of movement, its vessels moored and secured, its lights still on for late arrivals but their pilots and crews asleep save the night watch. Stripped of their black robes and reduced to ordinary garb, Paxon and Avelene stood at the bow with the girl Lariana and watched the earth rise to meet them.

The plan was simple. They had chosen the public airfield to avoid alerting Usurient and the Red Slash to their presence. They had shed their Druid robes to allow them to move about the city unnoticed. Once disembarked, Lariana could to lead them to Arcannen. She would not be required to reveal herself to him while doing so. Instead, Avelene and Paxon would subdue him and free Reyn Frosch, and then all of them would depart for Paranor aboard the airship.

None of them really believed things would work out that way, although each thought so for a different reason. Paxon and Avelene had discussed how to overcome the sorcerer at length while flying in from the coast, but it always came back to the same thing—the element of surprise. Ostensibly, Avelene possessed the training and skill with magic that would allow her to render Arcannen at least temporarily unconscious—although she had never made practical use of either in a dangerous situation, so Paxon was doubtful. His own belief was that Arcannen would never be taken down by anything but brute force, so he was expecting to have to use his blade to achieve what was needed. Even then, there was no reason to think the sorcerer would still be alive at the end. Or even that Paxon himself would. Avelene, on the other hand, was confident in her abilities. Enough so that she had already told him that in a direct confrontation with Arcannen, her magic would prove superior.

What Lariana thought was a mystery. She wasn’t saying much beyond asking that she be given a chance to save the boy.

“He doesn’t know what he’s doing,” she kept insisting. “He’s being led around by the nose. He thinks Arcannen is going to train him to control the magic. But what Arcannen is going to do is train Reyn to obey him. I can see it in the way he’s acting with Reyn, how he’s manipulating him, twisting his thinking. I have to get to him and let him know.”

Paxon wasn’t sure what Lariana did or didn’t have to do, but he was pretty sure by now that she was keeping something from them. Maybe she believed what she was telling them. Maybe she actually thought she was right about Arcannen and Reyn Frosch. But there was a secrecy about her that kept him wondering exactly where her loyalties lay. Whatever happened in the hours ahead, he was going to keep a close eye on her.

“You will let him go when I have him safely back again, won’t you?” she asked at one point. “You’ll let us both go? You won’t lock us up or give us over to the Federation?”

She said it just as they were preparing to climb down the rope ladder and set out into the city. She sounded so poignant that it gave the Highlander pause. But Avelene was quick to remind her why they were there in the first place.

“We are Druids, Lariana. We have a mission to fulfill. Our obligation is to the larger population of the Four Lands, and to any unauthorized use of magic. Surely you can see that Reyn is a danger not only to himself but also to others. He has to find a way to control his magic. Arcannen is not the one to teach him. We are. At Paranor, we can help him. He can receive the training he needs. Real training, not something like what he’s been getting. You can come, too, if you wish. Your visit will last only as long as it takes Reyn to master the skills he needs. Then you are both free to go wherever you wish.”

She spoke the right words. She made the situation as clear as she could. But Paxon saw the look of doubt in Lariana’s eyes, saw the reticence reflected on her features, and understood at once what concerned her about Avelene’s words. However you looked at it, she and the boy would become prisoners anew. The boy, at least, would not be allowed to leave Paranor until it was deemed safe to let him do so. That could take months. It could take years. It might never happen.

She turned away from them without comment, climbing quickly down the ladder to avoid their eyes. But Paxon had already seen all he needed to see to know what she was thinking.

They departed the airfield without passing by the manager’s office, leaving it to the Trolls to sort out the arrangements for their stay, moving off into the darkness that wrapped the outskirts of the city, silent shadows fading from view.

“Where is it that we’re going?” Avelene whispered after they had left the airship behind.

Lariana turned. “It’s not far from here. He’s hiding in the cellars of the old Federation army barracks out by the bluffs. He thought that would be the last place anyone would look for him, and there are several ways in and out of the cellars if anyone should come looking.”

“It doesn’t sound as if it’s going to be easy to trap him there,” Paxon observed.

But Lariana shook her head. “There are three ways in or out. We can lock down two of them from the outside before we go in. Then it’s up to you.”

The city lay off to the right now, their path taking them along its eastern borders toward their destination. Neither Paxon nor Avelene knew anything about the abandoned barracks, so they were watchful as they neared the low, squat buildings that appeared all at once as they topped a rise and started toward a chain-link fence. There were no lights in the windows of the buildings; the entire complex was dark and empty looking. The grounds were littered with debris and overgrown with scrub; there was no sign of life.

When they spied the gates, Paxon moved into the lead, his black sword drawn and ready. But no one appeared, no sounds or movement drew their attention, and they reached the fence gates without incident.

Even so, Paxon experienced a twinge of uneasiness. He looked down at the huge lock on the gate holding a heavy chain in place. “We’ll have to break it.”

Avelene moved him out of the way, placed her hands on the lock, squeezed firmly while whispering something the Highlander couldn’t hear, and the lock opened.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “There’s a trick to it. You have to speak softly.”

Pulling the chain free from where it bound the gates together, she pushed the right side open before stepping back. “Lead the way,” she said.

Paxon moved Lariana up beside him. “Show us the doors we need to secure.” He lifted a cautionary finger. “And careful you don’t give us away.”

She gave him a cold look and started ahead. They bypassed the main entrance and worked their way around the building to a side door with a heavy iron bar, and she locked it down. She did the same with a second door. After that, she was ready to turn back, but Paxon insisted they investigate the entire outside of the complex. In case, he said, she might have missed a way in or out.

But they found nothing else in their search and arrived back at the main entrance. “Won’t there be wards in place?” Avelene wanted to know.

Lariana shrugged. “Can’t you find out? You have magic, don’t you?”

Ignoring the taunt, Avelene spent several long minutes testing the entry. She used words and hands both, murmuring as she touched and rubbed the smooth surfaces, creating small streaks of blue light that burrowed through seams in the metal parts and disappeared inside. Her absorption in the effort was complete, and at one point her eyes were closed and she was holding herself completely still. It made Paxon wonder what was required of you even to know that creating magic was something you might be able to do.

When she was finished, she stepped back. “No wards seem to have been laid. I don’t think it’s even locked.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Paxon observed with a questioning glance at the Lariana.

“The wards will be laid farther in,” she said. “Traps, too. He never does anything the obvious way. Besides, he couldn’t come and go easily if the passageways were protected by magic. And he couldn’t abide that. He wants to be able to flee quickly if he needs to, not be slowed by having to spend time taking down wards and avoid traps.”

Paxon nodded slowly. “You seem to know him well.”

“I’ve had time to study him.” She hugged herself as if the idea of it made her uncomfortable. “I understand how he thinks.”

“Let’s just go in,” Avelene declared, yanking down on the iron handle. The door released and swung inward soundlessly. She looked at them, her lavender eyes bright. “There. That wasn’t so difficult.”

Maybe not, Paxon admitted wordlessly, but he was still uneasy. As they moved into the darkness, Avelene took the lead, using a pale white werelight balanced on the tips of her fingers to illuminate their way. The entrance led to a long, narrow corridor that branched in several directions. Without hesitating, the girl chose the one that continued straight ahead, and they followed it past numerous rooms, most with their doors closed, but a few left open to reveal dark windowless spaces. The corridor branched again and then again. They were in a maze, and Paxon quickly realized how easily they could become lost.

Finally, they reached a large open space that spread away into the darkness. A high ceiling rose into shadow, and the walls were stripped and windowless. Furniture had been piled against the walls so that the center of the room was left bare and empty.

Lariana started ahead once more, but Paxon took hold of her arm and pulled her around to face him. “Wait a minute,” he said, his instincts suddenly on edge.

“What is it?” Avelene hissed.

The Highlander shook his head. “I don’t know. Something.”

Lariana freed her arm from his grip. He glanced at her questioningly, but she said nothing, just glared at him. “Avelene,” he said. “Can you detect anything?”

The Druid placed her werelight on his fingertips, a cool flameless glow that tingled slightly but otherwise left no impression. He held it up for her as she began making small gestures that caused the air to stir and fresh light to appear and then illuminate the dark corners of the box-like chamber. The blue streaks reappeared, weaving their way along the surface of the walls and across the ceiling. She continued her search for a few minutes more and then shook her head.