"What good will that do, Jarl Keith?" Freya asked puzzledly.
"The lock on the door of this cell is a crude one, made of soft copper," I answered. "I believe this substance can burn away enough of the lock to free us. I'm going to try it anyhow."
I stuffed the chemical powder into the large crevices of the clumsy lock. Then I took our jar of water and poured a little over the powder. The hissing and sizzling of the chemical reaction continued for several minutes. When it ceased, I gently tugged at the lock. It still held. I pulled harder, and with a rasp, it gave way.
"Follow me," I whispered tensely. "I think I know the direction to the court where the plane is. If we only can get through the corridors without meeting anyone!"
We emerged into the dusty stone passage. I led the way toward the right, taking the first cross-corridor that led northward. The cold chill of the night fog penetrated the marrow of our bones, and our nerves were harp-string taut as we pressed on through the dark corridors.
Suddenly I shrank back into the shadows. I had seen two Jotun warriors approaching from a cross-corridor ahead.
"Hurry!" one was urging the other fearfully. "Do you wish to meet the hideous one that now lurks in these passages?"
"Frey, we'll have to jump them," I whispered. "Be ready."
The two Jotuns came around the corner into our dusky corridor. Frey and I leaped on them, taking them utterly by surprise. What followed was not pretty. We had grabbed their throats, for it was essential that they should not give an alarm. There was a fierce, deadly scuffle in the misty, dark tunnel, until we throttled them.
The Jotuns lay limp when Frey and I straightened, panting. We took the swords the two warriors had not had a chance to draw.