Malcolm leaned forward, his eyes sharp and cold. "And if he doesn't believe? If he sees through you?"
Roland's voice dropped, hard and certain. "Then I'll die. But at least I'll die trying to free us, not rotting away under his shadow."
Theodore chuckled. "You've grown teeth, Roland. I didn't think you had it in you."
Malcolm finally stood, the old wood of his chair groaning under his weight. His gaze swept over both men, then toward the door. "Then it's decided."
Roland's lips pulled into a wide smile, his eyes burning with a strange mix of relief and madness. "Good. Then I know exactly who can help me slip back into that place and steal what I need without being caught by those monsters."
Theodore narrowed his eyes. "You mean… him?"
Roland nodded firmly. "Yes."
