“Of course, Lady Searus,” the first said as he nodded vigorously even as the second was pulling out a big key as he turned to the door.

As Magda started for the door, the first man held up a finger. “Ah, if I might inquire, Lady Searus? I can understand Prosecutor Lothain sending you to see the prisoner, but . . .” He gestured to Merritt. “. . . what would be the purpose of this fellow you have with you?”

Magda glared at the man as if she were having difficulty believing how stupid he was. “Do you really expect me to torture the prisoner for information myself?”

He straightened in relief at the explanation. “Oh, I see what you mean.” He glanced at Merritt’s stony expression and then bowed quickly. “Of course, Lady Searus. I mean, no, of course not.”

The man with the key in his beefy fingers fumbled at getting it into the keyhole. The first man backhanded the side of his meaty arm and told him to hurry. Once the man got the key into the lock, his mouth twisted with the effort of turning it. He strained to turn the key, and it finally threw the bolt back with a loud clang. Both men seized the iron handles. Together, they pulled and tugged. The door appeared to be too heavy to be opened by one man alone. Rusty hinges protested as, inch by inch, the door was jerked open.

When they finally had an opening wide enough to pass through, the first man gestured to the second and under his breath ordered him to get a torch and take the two visitors in to see the prisoner they were interested in. It was obvious that he was eager to be out of Magda’s sight and away from her sharp tongue.

The second man nodded at the instructions and snatched up a torch from a pile at the side against the wall. He bent over the table to quickly light a splinter in the lantern and then set flame to the torch. As soon as he had the torch lit, he gestured for Magda and Merritt to follow as he ducked under the low opening and stepped through the doorway.

Magda hiked up her skirts and stepped over the high threshold. She and Merritt followed the hunched guard into a twisting maze of narrow tunnels that in places were no more than what looked like cracks in the bedrock. They took the second passageway to the left, down a split in the rock that was so narrow they had to turn sideways to pass through it. In places they had to walk through ankle-deep, stinking, stagnant water. To the sides, at intervals, were small iron doors set into places carved out of the solid rock. The fist-sized openings in the doors were all dark.

“Here it is,” the guard said, lifting a finger to the door.