Islinda sat cross-legged, deep in meditation, her breath steady and controlled. Her eyes suddenly snapped open with a piercing glint in them.
It was time.
Rising to her feet, she moved through the darkness with a motive, approaching the heavy cell door. Islinda took a few steps back, steeling herself, and then, with a fierce battle cry, charged at the door.
Her body collided with the door, and to her astonishment, it gave way, ripping from its hinges as if struck by a battering ram. She stumbled slightly, staring down at her hands in bewilderment. Impossible! How was she this strong yet felt so weak?
There was no time for Islinda to ponder over the strange paradox. Her escape was all that mattered now. She stepped over the remnants of the door and into the dimly lit corridor. Islinda knew the crash of the cell door should have drawn attention, the guards would be on their way here and every second counted. She had to get away from here, and fast.
