They shimmered magically inside the blue stuff, glowing and pulsating with white fire.
Aevlyn cried out, a hand lifted, pointing. The lights were going on, all over Klarn.
One by one they came into being, glimmering fitfully as long-unused filaments surged with flooded power. Whitely they shone, then grew bright and still brighter. A pale halo of reflection lifted from street and house and rooftop, bathing the city in its dim aura.
From the houses came the cries and screams of men and women. The screams deepened, grew into a roar, a bellow of sheer, unbelievable joy, of incredulous happiness. Flane and Aevlyn heard the triumphal peal of it, the hope become reality in its tones. They shivered in delight, laughing.
Flane drew her, an arm about her lissome waist, out with him onto the balcony. Beneath them the city was aflame with brilliance.
Aevlyn whispered, "You turned another failure into your biggest success, Flane. You made the Machine work. If you hadn't--" she shuddered and crept closer in his arms. Her voice was dreamy as she went on, "Now your word will be law on all Klarn. The Darksiders under Besl will see to that. You are their champion. The _dulars_ will be so happy to have their lights and heat again that they will acknowledge you, too. And the _mekniks_--well, they are heavily outnumbered, and when they see what the machine will do for them, they'll agree. Their power will fade as night when the lights went on."