Croft closed the switch.
A click—a hiss—the crackling ignition of incandescent carbon—a rising glow in the darkness—then—light—clear, radiant light!
Light that flared up and wavered and steadied and shone on Naia of Aphur, sheathed in purple and gold.
A babble of sound, a cheer of acclaim.
The trumpets of the heralds rang out.
Jason stepped forward and took his place close by Naia's side.
Magur, the high priest, arose, robed in his vestments of azure, accompanied by two temple boys. Each bore a silver goblet on a tray of the same metal that sparkled under the light.
Magur lifted a silver stave crowned with the cross ansata. "Who cries to Magur?" his voice rang out.
"A maid who would pledge herself and her life to the man of her choosing, O Prince of Zitu," Robur replied.
"The man is present?" Magur went on in ritualistic form.