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cells and Damien’s manacles fell from his wrists and both cell doors flew open. Alex fell back…the wind died and she collapsed to the ground.
    Tristan knelt down to her and lifted her up. “Alex. Open your eyes, look at me, look at me…”
    She moaned. Damien knelt down on one knee and bowed his head. “I am but her humble servant.”
    “Let’s take our swords. I’ll carry her out. I’ll do my best to distract the guards at the Inquisition Quarters. Get Lucilla, and meet us at the mouth of the slaves’ entrance.”
    “How will we get past the Military Gunships?”
    “By swimming across the trenches.”
    “But if they see us, we’re fish in a barrel.”
    “It’s the only way out. And you can always go back in your cell, chain yourself back up, and listen to your wife’s death. It’s up to you.”
    “If she is the Healer there is no more sacred place to be than wherever she is. Very well. I’m in.”
    Tristan lifted Alex over his shoulder and took his sword from Damien. Her chanting started again and Tristan quickly lowered Alex to her feet. She began to hover above the ground as wind whirled throughout the entire prison. Her eyes burned amber fire and her body took on an unearthly glow.
    “Go get your wife. Now!”
    Prison cell doors swung open behind them and Gladiators poured out, racing for the only exit available to them. Damien ran away from the scrambling men and toward the sound of advancing guards. But when the guards came upon them they fell upon their knees and pressed their faces to the ground.
    Damien picked his way through them and vanished. As Alex continued to chant the guards began to weep like children, begging for forgiveness. It was unlike anything Tristan had ever seen. But he knew when the display was over Alex’s energy would be depleted. It seemed the only thing which gave her the energy to go on was his carnal touch. Not that he minded providing her with it; but was just that now was not the most appropriate time for it.
    The wind continued to howl as he waited for Damien and Lucilla’s return, and tried to figure out a way to get away from the guards now under Alexandra’s spell. Damien returned with a severely beaten Lucilla in his arms, a look of desolation on his face.
    Alex descended to just a few inches above the ground and said in an ethereal voice, “Bring her to me.”
    Damien came forward as Tristan and the guards looked on. Tristan could feel the power of Alex’s otherworldly gifts coursing through his veins as she laid her hands at Lucilla’s forehead and chest. She began to chant again and the favored Gladiator’s face and torso lit up with an eerie glow. Her body began to heal before everyone’s eyes.
    Tristan instinctively slipped up behind Alex as Lucilla began to stir and his lover’s hand came away. The wind died down and she crumpled into his arms. Her vitality was utterly depleted.
    “Damien…” Lucilla stirred as she looked up into her husband’s eyes.
    “Lucilla,” he said, setting her to her feet and holding her close.
    Tristan did the only thing he could do. He took charge, even in the face of the intense fear that perhaps Alex had given too much of herself this time. The guards were still on their knees when the one who had shown them sympathy from the very beginning rose to his feet said, “We can only ask that the Healer forgive us, and in return we swear our lives in allegiance to her.”
    Tristan gazed at the woman who had so quickly worked her way into his heart and had triggered undying loyalty on the Guards. He was her Protector, and proud of it.
    “What is your name?”
    “Isaiah.”
    “Then, Isaiah, your men will help make sure we make it across the moat without casualty. Do you think you can do that?”
    “Yes, sir… Tristan, do you think the Healer will be okay?”
    Tristan touched Alexandra’s face and kissed her forehead. Her body flushed with a pink glow and relief flooded him. “She’ll be okay. I just need to find