Piergeiron clutched Eidola protectively to him and looked up toward the Eye of Ao. The crossbow bolt had come from there. In the pupil of the Eye was the frightened, hopeful face of young Noph. The Open Lord’s heart sank. What treachery was this? Noph backed quickly away, turning to flee. “Guards!” called Piergeiron. ‘To the Eye of Ao!” His command was interrupted when the Eye flared brilliantly, as though it had ceased to be stained glass and bad become the very flesh and soul of a god. Fire shot out through the pupil, jetting twenty feet into the sanctuary. Piergeiron clutched his bride all the more tightly as the holocaust roared overhead. He saw their shadows, cast downward by the bright blast—an image malformed and monstrous. Then the blast, too, was gone. Piergeiron looked up to see a charred Eye of Ao, black smoke bleeding up into the caliginous vault above. He stepped away from his bride and drew Halcyon for the third time that day. “Forgive me. Eidola, but the duties of office call.”
