“Really? And you think you can stand in my way? An ax isn’t even a holy symbol!” “Oh.” Oats looked crestfallen. Agnes saw his shoulders sag as he lowered the blade. Then he looked up, smiled brightly and said, “Let’s make it so.” Agnes saw the blade leave a gold trail in the air as it swept around. There was a soft, almost silken sound. The ax dropped onto the flagstones. In the sudden silence, it clanged like a bell.
