“The three now faced the moving wall. Trapped, like the last fries in a box with a hungry kid ready to pounce. They had no way to escape.”

“I escaped onto the wall, a painted ghost trapped in a jar. I stood back to look at it and I knew the sad thing wasn't that the ghost was running out of air. the sad thing was that he had enough air in that small space to last him a lifetime. What were you thinking, little ghost? Letting yourself get trapped like that?”

“Hawk?"He gazed up at her, still crouched on the floor, ready to pounce if she so much as moved an inch.”

“Do you know how far the wall is from the mines?” He gave her blank look. She closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. “From my shaft, it was three hundred sixty-three feet. I had someone measure.”“So?” Dorian repeated.“Captain Westfall, how far do slaves make it from the mines when they try to escape?”“Three feet,” he muttered. “Endovier sentries usually shoot a man down before he's moved three feet.”The Crown Prince's silence was not her desired effect. “You knew it was suicide,” he said at last, the amusement gone. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to bring up the wall. “Yes.”...“I never intended to escape.”

“Her heart became a bird, trapped inside the glass box of her chest, flapping violently into wall after invisible wall, crumpling into a heap of broken hollow-bones on the transparent floor.”

“Until yesterday Mosca had been trapped between two rivers, desperate to get out before winter arrived. Toll had looked like her only means of escape. Now, however, she wondered if she had traded one prison for another, a smaller prison with high walls. If she was not out of it before her allotted time as a visitor ended, then the mysterious night town with its twilight cacophony would claim her.”