He understood what was happening.
The chains were preventing the souls from departing. They were holding the essences of the dead in the chamber.
They were binding something that should have been freed by death itself. The souls were trapped. They could not move beyond the boundaries of the chamber. They could not journey toward whatever resting place their deaths should have granted them.
They were imprisoned in death just as they had been imprisoned in life.
"By the gods," Maelor whispered, his voice barely audible even in the silence of the chamber.
Jack's head turned slightly. His eyes met Maelor's across the distance that separated them. His expression remained unchanged.
