The blonde Darksider dropped the club and knelt before Flane, lowering his head. A great rustling was heard, as the other Darksiders knelt with him. Only the mekniks drew aside, muttering.
"You are him for whom the Darksiders have prayed, year in and year out," he said. "You are the saviour who is to come, to unite Darksider and Klarnvan. You bear the key!"
Flane heard Aevlyn sobbing behind him, as he lifted the sword and stared at it. He felt like weeping, too. For the diamond-shaped blade was only half a blade, now. The violet fire had eaten it up. The key to the Machine was in his hand at last, but it was a ruined key!
The Darksider was bowing and saying, "I swear fealty to the bearer of the sun-starred sword, for he shall be my Keeper."
Behind him the others roared out the ancient oath, their voices lifting triumphantly.
"By the grip that plunges home the blade, by the hand that is turned away to ward off evil, by the voice of the Machine, I swear my oath and pledge my faith. I am obedient. I am true. I am his who bears the sword!"
The rolling echo of the oath was swept into silence, but still Flane stared at the broken sword in his hand.
A ruined key!
There was no hope, now!
Flane stood with legs apart and flung his head to the blue sky and howled his laughter like a madman, until froth grew in the corners of his mouth, and tears rolled down his cheeks....