Mirabelle stood in the center of the cell, turning slowly in a circle. Her lantern cast long, swinging shadows against the damp stone walls. Every instinct she had was screaming that this was impossible. She held the only key. The guards below had been asleep, yes, but the door had been locked.
"He didn't fly out," Mirabelle murmured, mostly to herself. "And he didn't walk through the wall. So how does a sixty-year-old man vanish from the highest security cell in the kingdom?"
Revas was busy with the window. He was running his long, pale fingers over the iron bars that gridded the opening, staring out at the sheer drop to the ocean below.
"He didn't vanish," Revas said, his voice distracted.
He tapped one of the bars with his fingernail. Clink.
"Come here, Mistress."
Mirabelle walked over to him. "The bars are intact, Revas. I checked them."
"You checked them with your eyes," Revas corrected. "Eyes are easily fooled. Light is a liar. Touch them."
