One hand continued to radiate, throwing a tiny circle of light upon her breast as Lyra held it raised in preparation. Preparation for what? Staring at her fingers, she concentrated. Now was the time for control, even a little of it. Gradually the glow spread and she saw beyond her feet. A shiny floor greeted her first step away from the doors. There was no dust. She expected dust in a space as old as this.
A lantern squatted on a square table directly before her, becoming visible as she took another step. As she closed in, an arc of yellow sparks hurtled from her fingers to the lantern, causing it to burst into brilliance.
A hefty tome rested beside the lantern. Was this the book of souls Sassen had referred to? The one containing the names of other supplicants?
Heaving, she jerked her hand in, closing it into a fist. Her fingers were cold, as if recently immersed in ice water. After the heat, it was beyond agony. There was no glow either.