Kimmie will set me free, thought Digme, extracting the vial of luminescent drops hidden beneath his cassock. He'd traded hard-earned quiffles on the sorcerer's promise of a life beyond reach of his cruel maester.
Liquid mercury—dropped upon Kimmie's iron-gall ink eyes—begat cavernous pools of light and the animator bowed his head.
Maester Mange eagerly stroked his matted beard; Kimmie's tempestuous eyes would make him rich.
Her image winked.
Mange gasped, pressing in for a closer look. Kimmie's eyes glowed—fiery orbs of destruction—consuming the maester. He reappeared in the frame’s desolate background, a writhing smudge of ink.
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