The woman, even though she was only half conscious, still managed to level a black look at the two people entering her cell. She obviously expected more torture. Even though she was chained and helpless, Magda sensed that this was not a woman to be trifled with.

Magda reached out and gently touched the woman’s cheek. “We’re not here to hurt you. I promise.”

“She tells the truth,” Merritt said in a compassionate voice as he looked around, trying to see if there was a simple way to get her down.

The woman watched Magda’s eyes but didn’t answer.

Magda turned to Merritt. “Get her down, will you?”

“The chains are pinned into the rock. The key is the only way.” Merritt stretched up, fitting the key into the lock in the manacles. Despite how he tried, the key wouldn’t turn. “It doesn’t work,” he said.

“It’s probably rusty,” Magda said. “Try harder.”

“No, it’s the wrong key. I can feel that it doesn’t fit the lock properly. If I try any harder it will just break it off in the lock and then we’ll never be able to get them open.”

Magda started to turn away. “I’ll go get the right key from the guards.”

Merritt caught her arm, stopping her. “I have the right key.”

Magda frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

As the Sword of Truth came out of its scabbard, the blade sent a clear, distinctive ring through the small prison chamber that had been hollowed out of solid bedrock. The steel looked as menacing as the greenish light flared off it as it sounded.

The woman’s eyes widened, expecting the worst.

“They’re heavy iron,” Magda said. “You can’t cut iron with a sword.”

Merritt flashed her a private, one-sided smile before turning to the woman hanging before them. As he lifted her a bit by her forearm and held her steady, he carefully slid the blade of the sword under the iron manacle around her wrist.

“Don’t move,” he told the woman. “I’m going to get these off you. The blade won’t cut you. But just to be sure, don’t move.”

It appeared to be too much effort for the woman to turn her head to see what he was doing. Instead, only her eyes turned to look at his face as he cautiously worked the sword under the iron band. She seemed puzzled; her smooth brow twitched slightly.

“Hold still, now,” Merritt said.

With a mighty effort, the muscles in his neck straining, Merritt pulled the sword.

A loud crack rang out as the metal band shattered. As the blade of the Sword of Truth erupted from under the iron manacle, bits of metal ricocheted off the stone walls and clattered across the floor.