“Fossilized tree sap. But that’s beside the point. The centuries have turned it to stone.”
“So closed-minded, Elswyth, really. I thought you were a scientist. Where is your spirit of experimentation?”
She turned away, cradling the amulet in the palm of her hand. The depths within seemed to move, shifting in the moonlight and shadow as though it held its own interior light.
She pushed vitæ into the amber. And to her surprise, it responded. It sent a wave of vitæ back, more than she’d put in it initially. A wave of warm light filled her.
She gasped. “How is that possible?”
“Haven’t the slightest. It seems to be some kind of floromantic battery. Reach into it again, then pull the vitæ out. I assure you, you’ll find plenty.”
Elswyth turned the amulet over in her hands, searching for some kind of trick, some contraption hidden within. But there was only the stone. She paused and then reached into the stone again—only this time she pulled the vitæ out.
A steady stream of it washed through her, filling her veins with light. Her fatigue lessened and her mind cleared—the consequences from all the night’s floromancy vanishing in an instant.
“It’s marvelous,” Elswyth said, “and you said this is… Sumerian. How old does that make it?”
Silas considered. “If my estimates are correct, and it is indeed from the Uruk period, that amulet is perhaps five thousand years old.”
Elswyth blinked. “And the vitæ was inside the stone when you found it?”
Silas nodded.
“You mean to tell me that this vitæ is fivethousandyears old?”
“And it hasn’t decayed a day,” Silas said. “That energy is still as usable as the day it was captured.”
“But how did they capture it at all?”
Silas frowned. “That I don’t know. Nor do I know how to putvitæ back into it. One day the vitæ in that stone will run out, although it has shown no signs of slowing since it has been in our possession. But if we can unlock the secrets of its use… This is the future, Elswyth. Imagine it—a world where energy can be captured and stored for centuries, never lost, never diminished. With unlimited vitæ, we could feed the world. End hunger. Mass produce medicine, solve problems we haven’t even faced yet. Coal is useless compared to this technology, and it was created by floromancers at the dawn of civilization. It’s… it’s…”
“It’s the greatest archeological discovery in human history.”
Silas’s brow furrowed. “The greatesttechnologicaldiscovery in human history. And it’smine. Damn what the government says. I’m not letting them take this from me. I’m not letting them give the credit to someone else, someone with a better name. A more preferable complexion.”
Elswyth frowned. She understood. If it were her discovery, she would stop at nothing to ensure that her name went down in the history books, not someone else’s. “I understand, Silas. I only wish—”
Elswyth stopped. She looked down at the stone.
“What is it? Elswyth?”
The amberheart glinted in the moonlight. She turned it slightly, watching the imperfections shimmer. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Voices,” she said.
From the stone, something whispered. It sounded like wind moving through the branches of a forest.
“Elswyth? Are you all right?”
The whispers grew louder. Elswyth stared at the stone. Her awareness slipped from her body, to her hands, flowing throughher veins like water. It pooled in the stone, circling a drain, once, twice—
Suddenly, Silas moved. He dove toward her and grabbed her, clamping his hand over her mouth, dragging her into the shadows.
Once the shock wore off, she began to struggle, screaming against his hand. He shushed her, eyes wide, and then pointed over her shoulder.
They stood pressed against a Sumerian column, hidden from the moonlight that poured through the window. A lantern flashed, illuminating the room. A man in a black uniform stepped inside, holding the lamp high above his head, searching.
