Douglas raised his wand.
This time, no light shone at its tip, nor did he recite any complicated incantation.
He simply closed his eyes and used his magic to guide the intent born of sorrow from the first story he had just told, pouring it slowly into the corresponding earthenware jar like a gentle stream.
Bill understood at once.
He immediately raised his wand and followed Douglas's movements, conveying the same emotional resonance.
The first jar lit up.
It was neither an aggressive red light nor an eerie green glow, but a soft blue halo tinged with moisture.
Hunger.
Anger.
Deception.
Fear.
Forgetfulness.
Like a silent duet, the two of them poured the emotions of Ankh-Ka's life into the corresponding jars, following the order of the stories.
With each emotion they infused, a jar lit up with its corresponding light.
A withered yellow for hunger.
A blazing red for anger.
A beguiling purple for deception.
A dark gray for fear.
A pure white for forgetfulness.
Once the sixth intent, forgetfulness, had been infused, the lights of the six jars reflected off one another while remaining clearly distinct.
Finally, both men aimed their wands at the largest jar in the center.
They poured into it, without reservation, their purest reverence for life and their understanding of Ankh.
"Humm-"
The central jar emitted no colored light.
It merely gave a long, resonant hum, as though it came from the end of time.
Then all seven jars erupted with dazzling white light at once.
The light soared upward, gathering beneath the burial chamber's dome and weaving itself into a huge, slowly rotating ankh symbol.
Its sacred radiance lit the burial chamber as brightly as day, sweeping away every trace of darkness on the murals.
Under the light of the ankh symbol, the smooth