Obsidian Prey

Chapter 35

LYRA WALKED INTO THE CHAMBER AHEAD OF QUINN. The three pyramids of amethyst amber glowed gently on the card table where she had left them.

Quinn stopped short in the entrance. Wonder, awe, and an unhealthy excitement battled for control of his features.

"It's true," he whispered. "You really did find the pyramid stones. And they are stones of rare power, just like the one my grandmother discovered. I can sense the energy in them."

Lyra stopped near one of the pyramids and rested a hand casually on the surface. The stone glowed a little brighter at her touch.

"Now what?" she asked softly.

"Now you will tune all three of the pyramids to my wavelengths so that I can access their power." Quinn walked to the card table and touched one of the pyramids with reverent fingers. "I will be the master of the stones."

"I should tell you that I agree with your grandmother. These stones are dangerous."

Rage flared again in Quinn's face. "Tune the stones, or you will die in this chamber."

"You know, I usually get paid extra for my special tuning services."

"Shut up and tune the stones."

Quinn was practically spitting with fury. The temperature inside the tunnels was always comfortable, but there was a greasy sheen of perspiration on his shaved skull.

"Okay, okay, take it easy," Lyra said. "I'll tune your amber for you. Just so you know, there won't be any refund if you're not satisfied with the service. Place the pyramids so that they are all touching. They must be in physical contact with each other."

She was winging it now, but Quinn did not appear to notice. He arranged the stones as she had instructed.

"Now what?" he demanded eagerly.

"Put your hands on the stones and concentrate, just as you do when you use your talent."

Again, he obeyed, splaying his fingertips on the sides of the pyramids.

She touched one of the stones with a forefinger. Energy pulsed.

"Focus," she commanded softly.

Currents shifted subtly in the pyramids as though some long-dormant power had been disturbed. The stones brightened. She identified Quinn's patterns almost immediately. Crazy, all right. A moment later she had the wavelengths that pulsed in the heart of each stone.

The latent power she sensed in the pyramids chilled her to the core. Energy shifted, writhed, and uncoiled. Whatever was happening was not meant for the human mind.

"Concentrate harder," she whispered. "Give it everything you have."

"Yes." Quinn was nothing short of enraptured now. He stared into the glowing pyramids. "I can see things, amazing things. It's music. Who ever thought you could literally see music? Energy is pouring through me, making me stronger. This is incredible."

She tweaked the patterns a little more so that the energy in the stones began to pulse in the same pattern as Quinn's natural psi currents. But the currents in the pyramids were far more powerful than his. They seethed and coiled and burned, seeking a channel.

"Now I can see colors in the music," Quinn whispered. "No, I can feel the colors. There are no names for the shades of purple and green and blue I am able to see. The music is everywhere. Can't you hear it?"

"No," she said. "Only you can hear it and see it and sense it, because I have tuned the stones to your personal wavelengths. The power of the pyramids is yours and yours alone, now."

"Mine to control," he gasped, ecstatic.

"If you can," she added very quietly.

Quinn did not hear her. He was enthralled, his face awash in waves of wildly fluctuating purple light.

"Enough," he said finally. He sounded suddenly exhausted. "This is too much to absorb in one session. It is clear that I must do this in stages."

She took her fingertip off the stone and stepped back. But the pyramids continued to glow hotter. The entire chamber was pulsing with amethyst light.

"Stop it," Quinn ordered.

But there was no stopping what she had unleashed. She could no longer bear to look directly at the pyramids. The purple fires were too intense. Every instinct she possessed urged her to run. She whirled, turning toward the door.

Cruz, Vincent, Jeff, and Nancy arrived in the opening at that moment. Cruz and Vincent rushed toward her. She reached down and scooped up the sleeked-out dust bunny.

"Let's get out of here," she said. "I think the curtain is about to come down on this performance."

Cruz caught her hand.

"Go," he said to Jeff.

"What's happening?" Quinn shouted. "I can't release the stones. I'm trapped in the currents. Make them stop. Make them stop."

Jeff seized Nancy's wrist.

They ran down the quartz corridor. Cruz halted them in front of a vaulted entrance.

"Inside," he said.

They ducked into the antechamber.

The explosion, when it came, was accompanied by an unearthly scream. The shriek of horror seemed to go on forever before it was cut off.

And then there was only the eternal silence of the catacombs.