of some terrible danger about to descend on her?
Piergeiron glanced up into the black vault, unseeable above his bride. Were those leathery wings? Was that a lashing tail? No he thought, only shadow play, only particles swimming in my eyes.
Piergeiron steadied himself and looked back down, all the while wondering what invisible monsters of fate hovered above them, ready to descend.
The martial cadence of the bagpipes slowed. Eidola took two final steps and stood beside him. The roar of trumpets and drums ceased and echoed away.
Bride and groom turned to face the podium that held Sandrew, the Savant of Oghma. He gestured for the people to be seated. As the muffled sound of creaking benches settled into silence, he spoke:
'Friends, we are here to witness a union that will mean joy and peace for all of us, but especially for this man and this woman.'
I only hope he is right about that, thought Piergeiron. I could use a few lifetimes of peace just now…
Noph at last topped the ladder and gently lifted the trapdoor above him.
'found it,' he whispered to himself.
Beyond the trapdoor was a small, candlelit loft. Its farwall was the stained-glass Eye of Ao. Countless candles lined the base of the Eye, and fire gleamed in its edges.
Through the huge pupil came the murmurous sound of Sandrew's homily on marriage.
On this side of the pupil, though, was a cocked crossbow poised on a wooden stand. Its quarrel was trained downward, pointing to the spot where Eidola and Piergeiron stood.
Noph almost flung wide the trapdoor and rushed in, but he noticed a string tied to the door. It was threaded through an eyelet in the floor and then rose up to the trigger of the crossbow. He eased the door downward an inch, and watched as the quivering line loosened. The trigger settled back in its place.
Clever. Whoever had placed this crossbow here had rigged it to go off if the trapdoor was opened. Cleverer, still, there was another string attached to the trigger. It was tied to a clockwork mechanism. As Noph watched, the string wound slowly around the clock spindle, and the trigger tightened.
'… The crossbow is already in place…'
So, even now, the lizard-woman is conspicuously sitting in the crowd, thought Noph, with a solid alibi for the moment when the quarrel flies and the lady or the lord is slain…
He had another minute at most-a minute to cut the first string, climb into the loft, and cut the second.
He reached for his dagger and pulled it forth-or tried to. The peace strings held the damned thing in place. He yanked harder, but he didn't have the strength of a Piergeiron to snap them. Groaning in frustration, Noph fiddled for a moment more, trying to untie the tangle.
Thirty seconds… The clockwork string tightened…
Noph reached up past the trapdoor, feeling for where the first line was attached. His hand followed the string to another eyelet that was screwed into the top of the door. A yank on the eyelet told him this knot was secure.
Nineteen seconds… Noph gingerly rolled his fingertips across the string, his nails slowly fraying the fibers apart.
Eight seconds… A grunt and a yank. The frayed string broke loose of the eyelet. Noph flung back the trapdoor. It boomed loudly, but he did not care.
Two seconds… The crossbow trigger drew back, trembling.
Noph lunged for the clockwork mechanism. A crooked nail in the floorboards caught his toe, and he fell. One second… The trigger clicked…
Noph snatched the base of the crossbow stand and wrenched it. The quarrel shot away. It pinged off the edge of Ao's pupil and darted down into the crowd. A woman's scream came up to him, followed by the shout of a man. Noph leapt to his feet and peered out the pupil. Below, an old dowager clutched a bleeding arm.
The bolt had missed Lady Eidola and Piergeiron. They were safe.
'The whole of Waterdeep will owe you a debt of gratitude.” Except that Waterdeep had confused the details…
Someone pointed up toward the Eye of Ao and shouted: 'Assassin!'
Noph went white. As other faces turned toward him, he backed away into the dark chamber. He was no assassin.
He was the hero who stopped the murderers. Once the people saw the evidence… once they saw the stand and the strings and clockwork mechanism, they would understand the truth…
The cries of the congregation were interrupted by the I fuss of a line of smokepowder, lit by the candles beneath the eye.
Smokepowder?
Boom! Searing heat. Noph was thrown against a very hard wall. He groaned and crumpled amid orange flames. They died back as quickly as they had come. Bleeding, Noph struggled to smother the fire on his cape.
Numbly, he realized what had happened. The woman who had set up the crossbow had trapped it to explode once it had gone off, destroying the evidence other crime, destroying the evidence of Noph's innocence.
Crossbow, stand, and clockwork machine had been blasted apart. 'Assassin! Assassin!' came the cries from below.
Chapter 5
'Assassin!' 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.' Piergeiron said, bowing to kiss her hand.
Already, sounds of struggle came from the Eye of Ao; the guards had reached the would-be assassin. Kem and Miltiades rushed toward the sounds, swords unsheathed. Piergeiron looked the other way, where men carried away the wounded dowager.
He shrugged, 'Perhaps my aid won't be needed, after all.' 'Got him!' shouted someone in the Eye. 'We got him!'
During all this commotion, Sandrew, the Savant of Oghma, had remained unflappable. 'Shall I continue?'
Hushed flashes and muffled booms suddenly came from the crying room at the far end of the sanctuary. Screams answered, and more flares, and a man's angry voice shouting arcane words. Guests standing in the narthex shied back from the sounds.
A smouldering door barked open and spilled flames out into the rear of the sanctuary. A gasp ran through the chapel. Guests scrambled over each other to get out of the way. A tattered and smoky Khelben Arunsun staggered out through the opening and stopped to cough violently.
'Knelben looks to need some aid,' Piergeiron noted mildly to Eidola.
She was apparently in complete agreement, for she had already turned to dart down the aisle, dragging the groom after her. Piergeiron had to step lively to keep from getting tangled in her train.
