But the caravan did not stop; the ferrymen merely marched on by, paying no note. He followed them with his gaze, trying to look through them as they passed, but found his view of Shekalane and Asmodeus hindered once again—at which point his attention was drawn up slightly and to the side, where he saw, in sporadic glimpses, the ignudi struggling in their cage. And he noted clearly, in the brief gap that opened between guards and prisoners, that the little door to the ignudi cage stood ajar—that they could have flown out easily had they’d only known it—and he noted this with such lucidity that when the slaves began filing past, all but blocking his view, he found himself staring at their crossed wrists once more.
Again, no chains gleamed in the lantern-light like bitter fire ... no crackin
