“Stay calm and let me do the talking.” Her savior mumbled, stepping in front of her to face her tormentor. “Let the girl go.” He called across the chasm.

“No need to shout,” the deadly voice said. “I can hear you clearly.”

“It’s me you want, not her. Let her go and you can have me.”

“Really? You would give in that easily? She means that much to you?”

Grace’s tormentor was clearly enjoying himself. “You’ve got it all wrong, you know. It’s not you I want. Grace is mine. I discovered her long before you, which gives me prior claim.”

Once again, something about the way the madman spoke sounded familiar to Grace. He must have been familiar to her helper, too, because he stared at the lunatic for a moment as if putting the pieces of an intricate puzzle together.

“You were after Grace all along. Why? She’s innocent. What can she possibly offer you? Unless…”

“You don’t even understand her true value, do you?” He let out a sinister laugh, pacing on the other side of the pit. “I’ve had the chance to poke around in her mind a bit. She’s strong like your Meg. I’m not letting her go. Which means you must.”

His arm flew out from his side, stretching like a giant rope across the gap in the earth and pulling her to his side.