Darrow dropped the rope and turned around. The moment his back was turned, Ford had another fleeting impulse to flee, or to tackle him, or something — but that chances that that would work were only getting slimmer and more distant as time went on. Now he was without his wand, and his hands were tied together. His odds of overpowering Darrow like this weren't great, and there was no way he'd reached the door before the other man could react. So... he supposed there was nothing to do but follow him, with absolutely no idea what he was doing or where they were going. Like a duckling toddling after its mother — the analogy occurred to him and he immediately hated it, but that was how powerless he felt at the moment.

But Darrow said it wouldn't hurt him, so... that was something, anyway. He had no reason to believe him, but Darrow also didn't have a lot of reasons to lie about it, now that he had Ford entirely at his mercy.

"What does it do?" he asked, not because he really expected Darrow to tell him but rather because he thought if he could keep the other man talking, maybe he could pick up on a few clues here or there that would help him piece together a strategy to survive this. "What things are you looking for?"