Page 8 of The Prophecy
“Into any living organism.”
“Before you came, I heard the sound of wings.”
“I entered the cell as a moth.”
Raven stared at him, trying to imagine something so huge turning into something so small. It seemed impossible, and she smiled. The smile felt strange, like some long-forgotten skill. She raised her hand and pushed her hair behind her ear. The chains clanked, and she remembered she was still a prisoner. She didn’t really know this man, what he wanted from her. He said he was here to release her, but she was still in chains. She looked at him.
“Can you release me?”
“Yes.”
Then something flickered behind his eyes, and desolation swamped her. She had lived through enough of Sorien’s games to learn that hope invariably led to despair. Whatever this man spoke of freeing her, aiding her, there would be a price to pay, and suddenly anger rose up inside her. It felt good.
“And will you release me?” she asked.
“Not just yet.”
