With the barred door hanging open, the final symbol of her captivity was gone. There was no longer a physical barrier between them.
"While we're at it," Cecilia said, "let's just leave this place, Gigi. Walk out with me."
Angela looked at her, a hum vibrating in her throat. "So, my dear, which is it you actually want? Me? Or a loyal alchemist?"
Cecilia didn't hesitate. "Everything. I want all of you. My allies. My resources. My friends. You."
"Greedy," Angela teased, a fond, sharp smile touching her lips. "Just as you've always been. You don't just want to save a village, you want to save the continent. You don't just want one ally, you want an army."
Yet, even with the door wide open, an invitation to freedom hanging in the dank air, Angela's feet remained firmly planted on the stone floor of her cell. The most powerful bars, it seemed, were not made of iron.
