My eyes snap down to the shackle around my ankle—this thing that somehow dampens my magic. If I’m going to get out of here, I need this gone. And I saw what my ribbons did to Una. They’re strong. I send a group of them down to the cuff, and they slip beneath the polished gray surface. My ribbons wrap around it, again and again, going taut in four different directions. Then, they pull. The cuff snaps open with a crack, releasing a puff of gray dust in its wake. The pieces fall to the floor, spilling out dirt, and I instantly feel its absence.
Yeah right
