They waited until the night had died, before progressing with their plans. Thomas reached, in that way that the magicless never can, with a sense that was neither hear nor feel nor smell. It tasted like coming back, but not to home. It was the little gnome lady that he reached for, his mind floating like a feather on top of hers.

It was easy then, as the distance was short, and no walls stood between them for him to say "Hello" without opening his mouth.

The gnome who never slept flinched, and then nothing.

"It is I, the man with the bowl, from yesterday, you can speak back you know, as long as you whisper."

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Gnome girl lifted her head from where she lay, and looked at him in complete darkness, it was the dead of night, and all was pitch black, yet Thomas knew this as sure as if he could see.

"It is soon that I shall slip free, and slit through every guard I see, gnomes have clever little hands I think, would you join me?"

The reaching tired him, and Thomas knew that he had little left in him to whisper more, he already felt himself begin to shake, his whole being twisting like a wrapped cloth.

"Freedom" he spoke.

The gnome was very still, and only that, if Thomas had room in his mind, he would have imagined that the only reason she gave him this much was only in repayment of that bowl from yesterday, a payment of food.

"Death soon" he begged

Sweat from Thomas' brow began to drip onto the floor

"Revenge" he promised

Thomas did not hear shuffling, but he did hear the bowl roll back through the bars. It fell near his fist and clattered.

Archibald shifted, and Thomas relaxed into a heap.