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... t with all those dozens of floating eyes in jars, he’d be caught instantly.
There were at least twenty of them circling lazily in the dim glow—drifting near the ceiling, hovering over piles of parchment, even tucked between open law tomes.
’Surely...’ He thought. ’...the moment I walk in, they’ll all swivel and stare at me.’
But nothing happened.
Not a single eye turned. Not one hand paused in its scribbling.
Anya was so absorbed in her work that the entir ...
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