Luke stared down at the orb in his palm. He could give it to her, but what would be the use of destroying his entire plan? Instead, he remembered back to the way Madame Blunt had tried to attack him before: she had almost been flying.
“Hold on tight, little Lancelot,” Luke said, as he closed his eyes tightly and wished about freedom, crushing the smooth orb carefully into his palm. He prayed that it would work.