The witch stood back, placing a hand on the arm of the other woman, urging her to do the same as the two lads approached the door like a sieging army with a battering ram. Were it not for the sensation of being trapped well and truly now gnawing at her, Eury might have felt a pang of guilt at any sort of damage—vandalism, really—to the space; she did not, however, see any other option.

Splintering was not enough, but a hole in the door flooded them with sound once again—that of the boards cleaving to the lads' efforts, that of the sounds of the library outside the quiet room. Eury even emitted a whoop of glee, a sound that reached her ears. She gestured for the boys to do the honours, to reach through the hole they had created and open the door from the other side.

To set them free.