"Yes," it said. "I have it."
The light began to burst stronger from the staff, a swirling dangerous fury of it.
Ciaran was hardly breathing. The light-source, whatever it was, was part of the power of the Stone of Destiny. Wave lengths meant nothing to him, but it seemed the danger was to the Stone—and Bas carried it.
The android touched the staff. The light died, clipped off as the metal ball closed.
"If there's any power left in the Stone," it whispered, "our power-wave will blast its subatomic reserve—and Bas the Immortal with it!"
Silence. And then in the pitch darkness a coal began to glow.
It came closer. It grew brighter, and a smudged reflection behind and above it became the head and shoulders of Bas the Immortal.
The android whispered, "Stronger! Hurry!"
A yellowish hand made a quick adjustment. The Stone of Destiny burned brighter. It burst with light. It was like a sunball, stabbing its hot fury into the darkness.
The android whispered, "More!"