XIIThe following morning, Master Owyn led them through another doorway off the Octagon. The bright light inside made Finn squint for a moment. Naphtha lamps, set in circles the size of cartwheels, hissed in the air just above his head, their acrid smell sharp as nails in his nose. He could see the metal chains holding them in the air stretching up into the shadows above him. The hall soared above him, its ceiling completely invisible. The stretching walls were windowless and grey, cut from large, regular blocks of bare stone.
The c******g and clanking of metal was clearer in there, the stifled roaring of machines a monotone hum in his ears. He breathed hot, muggy air that seemed to immediately sap him of his energy. He wanted to sleep but, of course, could not.
Most of the room was taken
