"But how?"
"We could try to get our chains loose. Our fingers are free, at least. If we moved close enough together.... We've got to try."
Marc glanced without hope at the tangles of chain that imprisoned them. "I suppose so," he murmured. Slowly, careful lest he upset himself, he began working his chair toward Toffee. Slowly he inched forward.
It was nearly a half an hour before they were close enough. Marc strained his hand forward and began fumbling with the chains at Toffee's wrists. It was difficult work, but he kept at it. At the end of several minutes, however, his hands were stiff with pain, and he had to rest.
"I can't even see what I'm doing," he said.
"Let me try loosening yours while you rest," Toffee said with determination. "We'll take turns."
The hours wore on without result. There was no interruption from the Blemishes, however. The brothers were far too absorbed in their preparations for destruction to pay any attention to their captives. They did not bring food.
"I'm beginning to feel hungry." Marc said.
"This is no time to think of your stomach," Toffee said.