Sandra''s eyes darted around in terror. The room had no windows, and the damp walls were covered in moss. There wasn''t even a whisper of a breeze; it felt like a sealed tomb.


    "Hey! Is anyone there? Where the hell am I?"


    "Owen! Where are you?"


    "Quennel, what is this? You promised you''d take me to Mixa! Why did you bring me here?"


    "You broke your promise! What do you want? Let me go!"


    But no matter how hoarsely she screamed, only silence answered.


    Furious, Sandra scrambled to her feet and lurched toward the tightly shut iron door. After just two steps, she heard the clinking drag of a chain behind her. Looking down, she saw that a shackle had been locked around her ankle.


    "What the "


    Looking at the chain, as thick as her arm and covered in rust.


    A knot of dread tightened in her stomach, and a wave of foreboding washed over her.


    She swallowed hard, hesitated for a few seconds, then continued toward the door.


    When she was about six feet from the door, she was yanked to a halt. The length of the chain restricted her movement.


    "Damn it, what is this ce?"


    Sandra strained against it, trying to get just a little closer, but the chain wouldn''t give. It was anchored firmly to the wall, set in a b of concrete.


    The heavy iron door had a small slot, and through it, she could see a sliver of light, but nothing clearly.


    All she could make out was another wall just like the one in her room. This ce was probably a dungeon, or maybe a converted basement.


    And she had no idea where she was. Was she still in Kiron? Or had they taken her back to Sova?


    "Quennel! Are you out there? Answer me! Is anyone there? Say something! What are you going to do to me?"


    Meanwhile, Owen was also slowlying to.


    His situation, however, waspletely different from Sandra''s.


    He was sitting on a stool, his hands and feet bound.


    Two massive tamps sted light directly into his face, making it impossible for him to open his eyes. The heat from themps felt like the sun, baking his skin. A powerful sense of unease overwhelmed him, and swallowing hard, he cried out.


    "Where am I? Who are you? Why did you bring me here? I was just Sandra''s aplice! It was all her idea it had nothing to do with me! Please let me go swear won''t say a word when I get out. I promise! Please, just let me go! If you want someone, go after her! Spare me,


    please, spare me! I''m begging you!"


    If he weren''t tied up, he would have been on his knees, desperately begging for his life.


    But despite his loud cries, no one paid him any mind.


    After about a minute, two figures dressed all in ck walked in. They wore dark sunsses and hats, but


    he


    from their build He could vaguel


    make out that they


    were men:


    "You''re Owen?" one of the men asked. An electronic device worn around his throat


    altered his voice, making itpletely unrecognizable.