The Dark Remains - Mark Anthony [194]
The fairy nodded. He didn’t know how he knew, only that he did, that it was for this reason the fairy had let itself be captured by the Scirathi and had come to this world—to give him this, this Stone that it had concealed in the only place it would be safe.
“It’s Sinfathisar,” he said.
He reached out with his left hand and took the Stone of Twilight, still wet with the fairy’s blood. More blood oozed from the hole in the fairy’s chest, at once dark and glittering. The being turned toward Vani and spread its arms.
Vani stared—then leaped into action. She raised the artifact, catching the dark trickle of blood. In moments the small reservoir was filled. The fairy pressed its hand to its breast, stopping the flow of blood, and a pale radiance welled between its fingers.
“The blood of light,” Vani breathed.
“What does it mean?” Beltan croaked.
Travis gripped his hand. “It means we’re going home.”
64.
Minutes later they were ready.
Grace had retrieved the small backpack from the pickup and pulled out the things they bought at Marji’s shop. Marji, who was gone now because of them. But Travis would have to think that through later, when there was time. He wouldn’t let Marji’s death be for nothing.
They worked in the shelter by the rear of the truck. Vani had set the artifact on top of the box, and had placed four of the candles around them. They guttered in the wind but did not go out. She had mixed the herbs and oil together, making an incense, and she lit this with the fifth candle. A heavy, fragrant smoke coiled upward on the air. Travis breathed in the fragrance, his mind clearing.
He looked at Deirdre and Farr, then Mitchell and Davis. “So, how are you all getting out of here?”
Davis’s face crinkled in a grin; the greenness had left his face as he breathed in the incense. “Now, don’t you worry about us. Your friends’ limo may be so much tinfoil, but there’s still plenty of gas in the pickup.”
“We can still get out of here,” Mitchell said. He glanced at Farr. “If there’s time.”
Farr nodded. “I believe we’ll make it. We’ll need to pick up our driver. Crashing into a convoy of trucks wasn’t in his job description, so we dropped him off by the road a mile back.”
“Wait, there’s something you should know,” Grace said, moving to the Seeker.
Farr stared at her, his handsome face stunned.
“Electria,” Grace said. “I know why Duratek invented it. It’s for fairies, to keep them alive on Earth.”
Farr blinked. Whatever he had thought she was going to say, clearly this hadn’t been it. He started to lift a hand, then—slowly, as if by great force of will—he lowered it again. His expression was haggard, broken.
“Thank you, Dr. Beckett,” he said.
Deirdre looked down at her hand. “Fairies?”
The gray being moved close to her, lifted her hand, and touched what Deirdre had been gazing at: a silver ring. Gently, the fairy closed its fingers around her hand, then moved away. As it did, Travis saw there were tears in Deirdre’s eyes.
“The artifact is ready,” Vani said.
“Wait,” Deirdre said, fumbling in a pocket. “Grace, I almost forgot. Here—it’s the drawing I told you about. The one that shows the sword from Sarsin’s journal.”
Grace accepted the folded piece of paper. “Thank you.”
Deirdre smiled, nodded, then stepped back.
Vani knelt close to the artifact. Travis and Grace stood above her, Beltan gripped between them. The fairy drifted close. Vani hesitated, then placed the prism atop the artifact.
At once the air shimmered, and the gate sprang into being, its shining edges dancing and rippling like the Aurora Borealis. Beyond was swirling gray.
“You must help me envision our destination,” Vani said. “Hold the image in your mind. We must go find my brother, in Tarras. A city—”
“A city of gold by the sea,” Grace said.
Vani nodded, then stood. The gate shone before them. Through it, Travis could still see the two Seekers, and Mitchell and Davis, but they were dim, as if already fading.
“You all … you all take care of yourselves,” Mitchell said, and Davis nodded, still grinning.