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fingers long and blunt, capable of wielding a sword or a knife with ease; hers small and pale in comparison, the fingers dainty, tapered, filled with the power to soothe, to heal.
    There was only one answer for both of them, and it was there, in their joined hands.
    Escape.

 
    Chapter Four
     
    “It’s the only way out for either of us,” Jarrett argued.
    “No.” She shook her head, afraid of what he was suggesting, afraid even to think of it.
    “She, listen to me. I’ll protect you once we get out of here, I swear it.”
    “No.”
    “Do you want to die?”
    “No.”
    “Then help me. I’ll take you back to Gweneth with me, or I’ll take you home, to Majeulla.”
    She tried to wrest her hand from his. “Please, let me go.”
    His hand tightened on hers. “She, it’s the only way. What other choice do you have?” He looked deep into her eyes and saw the fear there. “What if you can’t find the courage to take your own life?” he asked ruthlessly. “What then? Will you be able to endure the pain of watching them cut me up a hundred times, of healing me a hundred times? Would you rather endure that than risk freedom?”
    “No, no. I just want to go home.” She tried again to wrest her hand from his, but she was no match for his strength. She stared into his eyes, eyes that were as green as the leaves of a midnight flower. She saw the fear that lurked within their depths and mingled with that fear she saw desperation and a bright glimmer of hope.
    She lowered her head, unable to meet his searching gaze any longer. What if she helped him escape? What if she were caught?
    She shuddered to think of what would happen to her if the Fen decided they no longer needed her healing powers. It was her ability to ease pain and suffering that made her valuable in their eyes; it was the fear of destroying her powers that had kept her safe from their lust, for it was well known that to defile a Maje was to destroy her powers. It was a myth that had been spread for countless generations, a myth that had been perpetrated in hopes of protecting the women of Majeulla from the lust of outsiders. It had worked so far, but what if they caught her helping Jarrett to escape? What if, in their anger, they decided to humble her in the most elemental way? What if they defiled her? She would rather die than be subjected to such a fate.
    And what of Jarrett? Had she the courage, she would take her own life rather than cause him a single moment of needless suffering.
    She felt Jarrett’s fingers tighten over her own, felt the tremor that shook his body. How could she bear to see him hacked to pieces? How would she bear the agony of watching him suffer, of making him whole over and over again?
    The pain she had endured in healing him in the past would be as nothing compared to what lay ahead. She would have to be in the room while they used their knives on him to ensure that he did not bleed to death while they summoned her.
    She would hear his screams, feel the knife cut into his flesh as if it were her own…
    Slowly she raised her head and looked into his eyes. “Thee promises to take me home?”
    “I promise.”
    “How soon does thee wish to leave?”
    The sense of relief, the promise of freedom, left him weak. “As soon as possible. Can you find your way out of the dungeons?”
    “Yes.”
    He nodded, his thoughts racing. “The Giant?”
    “I can subdue him.”
    Assured by the confidence in her voice, he didn’t waste time asking how. “You must bring me his weapons.”
    “Yes.” Her gaze moved over Jarrett’s body. “And raiment.”
    Clothes, he thought. How long since he’d worn anything but a death shroud and a scrap of black cloth?
    “Don’t wait too long,” he said. “Promise me?”
    Her heart was pounding like a wild thing caught in the jaws of a trap. She wanted to say she’d changed her mind, that there had to be another way, but in the end she only nodded. “I promise.”
    He smiled at her then and she