Felix wakes-up a second time in the dungeon. He is in complete blackness; a silk mask covers his eyes. He’s stretched flat on his back but with some slack. He can touch the leather cuffs around his wrists but as his fingers try to figure out the buckles, he feels his arms being pulled. “What’s happening?” he demands, as the click-click-click of the winch continues, in little bursts every minute or so.
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