Duncaan struggled in vain against his bonds. No matter how he tried he could not break free. The recent experiments performed on him didn’t help matters either. Duncaan sagged down against the wall; he was bordering on despair. Faith’s scream still rang in his ears, though it had come from many leagues away and several days past.

What am I supposed to do now? I can’t even help myself out of this mess, much less my friends. And what could they have done to Jakar to make him turn back to PSI so quickly? Well, I guess it has been a while...a month or two? Duncaan cursed softly and tried once more to break free before calling it a night.

The air hardly moved as a youthful silhouette dropped silently out of the air duct system to the floor below. The boy (at sixteen years, he could not quite be called a man) glanced furtively around him, his green eyes flashing in the moonlight that streamed through a tiny niche in the right wall. He carefully checked the katana concealed in the folds of his soft, dark cloak and fingered the points of several shurikens that were tucked into his belt.

The youth mentally unfolded a map of the building that he had memorized earlier. After thinking for a moment, he turned to his left and followed the corridor until he came to a "T" junction. He made another left, then a right turn.

At last! The prison complex! Now, let me see if I can remember which cell he is in. The young ninja scanned his mental map once again and dashed to the fourth door on the right side of the hall. He reminded himself to be careful since he was in the high security prison area. He pulled out a self-fashioned lock-pick and went to work on the door.

In moments, the door swung open to reveal the battered martial artist. The boy crouch-walked over to him, put his hand near Duncaan’s mouth as a safety precaution, and shook his arm. Duncaan started awake and would have yelled out, but the youth’s hand was ready. "Shh! You idiot, do you want to wake the whole complex? I’m here to get you and your pals out of here," the boy whispered.

Duncaan’s eyes clearly showed his mistrust, but he nodded that he would not give them away, and the ninja took his hand away. "All right, I’ll cooperate, but tell me who you are and what a... kid like you is doing in this type of place," Duncaan said none too gently.

"Yeah, I guess I do sort of look out of place, but can we get to the other people’s cells first and I’ll explain on the way? I don’t know about you, but I intend to live a little longer. Oh, and my name’s Riley." Duncaan nodded his silent consent and the two crept back out to the hall.

Since Duncaan had no idea where Jakar was and Riley only had a vague one, Lyta was the next one on the list of people to liberate. Lyta’s cell was exactly between the high and medium security areas. Since she hadn’t taken up the hobby of electrocuting people, she wasn’t considered as high of a risk.

Duncaan and Riley found the cell without much difficulty, and broke into it with much more ease than Duncaan’s. They found a very alert Lyta whose eyes, despite her valiant efforts, began to well up with tears of relief.

"You came! Someone actually came! I thought I would just sit in this cell for the rest of my life! Where is everyone else? And who is with you, Duncaan?"

"Jakar is the only other one here, as far as we know. I’m not sure where the others are. Maybe they... didn’t make it through the shipwreck. The kid with me says his name is Riley. I don’t know much else about him. To change the subject, do you have any idea where they might be keeping Jakar?"

Lyta cocked her head and thought. "He may be back in high security. I heard they injected something into him that is controlling his actions, but I doubt that they feel safe enough to put him in medium or low security."

Duncaan let out a sigh of relief. "I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that he didn’t rejoin PSI willingly. That just didn’t seem like him."

Riley took a turn sighing, but in frustration. He ran his fingers through his slightly shaggy, dark hair. "All right, I think I may know where we can find him. It is way beyond the high sec. area. I heard a prisoner call it Hades’ Maw. Not a place we want to spend much time in."

Duncaan nodded. "Right, PSI’s security may not be very good, but it’s not so bad that they’ll give us more than one shot at finding Jakar. Let’s see what we can do; I’m dying to punch someone’s gut for keeping me chained up like some wild animal."

Riley motioned them out and took the lead down the corridor to...

Hades’ Maw, is it? Well, that old man out in the city said that would be my best chance of finding my parents, Mystryl thought. More like my last and only chance. The halls here were dusty and some of the paint on the walls was beginning to chip, revealing cracked bricks beneath. She went about two hundred yards further before being startled by a huge rodent that scuttled across the floor.

"What a horrible place," she whispered under her breath. The passage grew older and darker as she went down it. A stench of old and rotting things made her feel as though she would suffocate. It looked as though most of the modern part of the prison had been built over an ancient castle-like building.

Mystryl concentrated for a moment and a tiny point of light formed in her hand. That’s a little better. Maybe now I can avoid tripping over the vermin crawling around here. She walked by cells that had no traditional door, only iron bars to keep the prisoners in. Not that the prisoners could do much to escape, most of the ones she saw had passed away years ago.

After going by many mostly empty rooms, Mystryl thought she saw a slight movement in one of the cells ahead of her. She edged closer and held her illuminated hand up so she could see more easily. There was an ancient looking, emaciated man seated in the back corner of his prison. He seemed to be saner than the other prisoners she had seen. There was something different in his eyes.

Seeing light in the middle of the darkness he was accustomed to caused the man look up. His gaze was only half-interested until he saw Mysty’s face. "Merlyne? No, it can’t be you," the old man whispered.

Mystryl stepped closer. "Excuse me, sir but how did you know my moth..." She looked more closely at him and her eyes widened. "Oh my...!"

"Well, if I remember the map right and made a good guess, Jakar is probably in one of these rooms," Riley said, looking around him as he walked.

Lyta shuddered. "If you can call these horrible places rooms."

"Everyone take a direction, let’s split up. Hopefully that will give us a better chance of finding him." Duncaan heard a step behind him. He spun around to come face to face with a now dark-haired and very angry Jakar.

"Let me spare you the trouble, fools! You should have tried to escape while you had the chance. Oh well, too late for that now. Now there is only time to die!" While he had been speaking, Jakar’s eyes had begun to glow.

Duncaan noticed almost too late as he barely avoided a pillar of rock that shot up from the ground.

Lyta came back to see what the noise was about. She didn’t take long to realize that conflict was inevitable. "Be careful, you two! Who knows what he can do now that those people messed with him!"

"Jakar, we are going to get you out of here whether you like it or not," Duncaan said as he dodged a shower of rocks and delivered a high kick to Jakar’s ribcage. Jakar stumbled; the wind had been knocked out of him. Riley stepped forward as if to help, but Duncaan motioned him back. "Too dangerous for you, kid."

Riley made a face but stayed where he was.

Jakar recovered and began to fight back using conventional methods. When Duncaan threw a right punch, Jakar deflected it with a hand and countered with a palm strike to Duncaan's face. Duncaan wiped blood from his nose and stepped back a pace or two.

They both circled around for a while until Duncaan feinted to the left and attacked Jakar with a spinning roundhouse followed by a crescent kick to Jakar's head. Jakar was stunned for a moment and Duncaan reached over, trying to pin him to the ground, but Jakar grabbed his arm and flung Duncaan over his shoulder. Duncaan swiped his leg into the back of Jakar's knees and leaped on top of him wrestling for all he was worth. After a fierce struggle, and getting a broken rib, Jakar managed to get up and the two fought on.

They battled for several minutes, but it seemed as though a stalemate had been reached. Duncaan was stronger, but Jakar had the greater stamina of the two. Jakar’s eyes flared up again, and the fight looked like it was about over, when Jakar’s head rolled forward and he collapsed to the floor.

Duncaan looked around, puzzled.

Riley held up a small device that had been stuck onto the skin on Jakar’s neck and smiled crookedly. "I saw this thing on him when he put his back towards me. It looked important, so I figured I should pull it off. It must have controlled whatever device the scientists injected into him."

"Thanks Riley, I guess I owe you."

Riley waved a dismissive hand. Jakar was beginning to revive by now. He sat up and shook his head to clear it. A small moan escaped his lips. With a pitying expression, Lyta came over and gave him a quick hug.

"Ohh... Duncaan? Where... are we? Ah, did you have to break my rib?" Jakar asked.

Duncaan laughed, "Sorry Jakar, but look at my face! You got it all bloody! You better not have broken my nose! I guess we’re even, right? As to where we are, the prisoners call it Hades’ Maw."

"Ooh, poor Duncaan," Jakar teased, "What would the world think if he had an... imperfection on his face?"

"Shut up Jakar! I don’t have that much ego and you know it! I guess I can get a little carried away sometimes, but I'm not that bad!" he snorted. "Well... I guess it’s good to have you back to normal, but we have to get out of here. Do you remember anything about this place? Any routes besides the one we came from?" Duncaan pointed back the way they had come.

"Yeah, I think so. Follow me."

"HE WHAT!?" President Gorran shouted.

"...He escaped, Your Imminence. I am deeply sorry. I can assure you that my men are pursuing him as we speak." Mikol Tauner, the captain of the guard did not look thrilled to deliver the news, but as the commanding officer, the duty and responsibility fell to him alone.

"You idiot! You incompetent, worthless imbecile! You worthless mass of...of..." The president used a few colorful words to describe the captain. "Has it penetrated your tiny mind yet that that was Project Mage you just let escape? It was hardly just some worthless prisoner," President Gorran snarled. "...At least he still has the slave device on him," the president said after a moment.

Capt. Tauner’s commLink beeped. "What is it now?" he snapped, "I ordered you not to interrupt me!"

The security guard stuttered nervously. "Y-yes, s-sir. I know what you said, and I wasn't going to contact you, but the...Project Mage has..." he stopped, afraid to say what he knew he must.

"Speak up, man! That’s an order!"

"Right... Sir, Project Mage has somehow managed to remove the control device. He’s no longer under our command. Also, we have discovered that two other prisoners are missing." The guard paused again. "Duncaan Keriador and Lyta Cabarel."

"That will be all, soldier. Get them back into our custody at any cost." The captain turned off the commLink and swore before he could check his frustration. "I am truly sorry about this turn of events, Mr. President."

President Gorran slammed his fist down on the desk beside him and a few veins on his forehead began to swell. "Not as sorry as I’ll make you if you don’t get those prisoners back, Captain, I assure you!" he roared, spit flying as he did so. "Now get out of my face before I do something rash that I may or may not regret later!"

Capt. Tauner bowed and backed quickly out of the room. The president began pacing the floor, waiting for the bad news that was sure to come, and devising grotesque punishments for whoever was unlucky enough to deliver the news.

Mystryl brought her light-filled hand up to the old man’s face and stared incredulously. "...Daddy? It IS you, isn’t it!"

"And you are?" he asked, obviously puzzled. The paper thin, translucent skin on his face became even more craggy as he searched her face for something recognizable with which to identify this unexpected visitor.

"It’s me Dad, Mystryl. Has it been so long that you’ve forgotten me? I know I've grown up some, but still..." She shook her head sadly, "You look so... different than I remember you."

The man called Trynion, who was Mystryl’s father, studied her even more closely. Then a new light sprang into his eyes and he reached his hands around the bars to take her hands in his with a surprisingly strong touch. "Little Mysty! Can it be so...? I see in your eyes that it is. I told myself years ago that I would never see you or your brother again, yet here you are! You aren't so little though, are you? Please tell me, how are my two children?"

"I...I guess I’m doing well. I've... been traveling and I haven’t seen Lyrion for a year or so, but I got a letter or two. He seems to be doing fine. I guess he's becoming quite the farmer, although his personal preference seems to be leaning more towards ranching and husbandry than planting and harvesting."

In keeping with tradition, all the Nightshades from the farm town of Meadows had been named with the regional preference of the letter "Y" in them.

His hands tightened around hers. "Mysty, we may not have much time to talk so I’ll tell you my story quickly. A group called SIGS captured your mother and me. I don’t know anything about them except that they work with PSI. ...And that they have a better covert operations division. They wanted us both of us for our abilities but they wouldn’t accept that your mother had none of the sort they were after. They took us both and tried to talk us over to their cause. When that didn’t work, they tried torture.

"Somehow we managed to resist, but your mother had a harder time of it. They caught me tying to heal her wounds one night and they took her away from me. They gave her injuries that they knew only the magic could heal. I gave in to their wishes for a short time, but after I did so and they allowed me to heal your mother somewhat, the guards took her away from me. I never saw her again.

"That was three years ago. They gave up on me after I killed two guards with my magic, and they have left me here to die...hungry, cold and alone. I have had to eat some horrible creatures, let me tell you. I suppose I could have given up long ago, but something kept me from losing hope. Then you came. So, tell me about you."

"Our uncles raised Lyrion and me after you disappeared. They taught us basic fighting skills, which I carefully honed until I was pretty good with knife throwing. I left home to find you, picking up money along the way to pay for all the transportation."

Trynion's hands dropped to his sides, and he gently interrupted his daughter, "Mystryl, I assume you don’t mean finding loose change along the roadside. You became a thief didn’t you?"

Mysty looked away for a moment, but then looked back and raised her chin defiantly. "I may have been a bit impatient to get to you, that's all. I don't regret what I've done. It was the fastest way."

"But that didn’t make it the best way. I suppose it was also easier than earning wages, wasn’t it? And more fun perhaps?" her father queried with a knowing look.

"Hey, I almost never take things from people. Not live ones anyway."

Trynion rolled his eyes. "Wonderful, my daughter became a grave raider."

Mystryl’s voice got louder as she tried to defend herself. She did a very poor job of it. "I found you, didn’t I? I’m here aren’t I? What right do you have to criticize me?"

The frail old man stood up as straight as he could anymore and replied, "I may be old and haggard AND the one behind the bars, but I am now and always your father, young lady. Now, give me your word that after you leave this place you will never steal again. Not from anyone, alive or dead."

"But..."

Trynion gave her "the look".

"...Fine, unless someone’s life depends on it... I promise...never to steal again."

"I suppose that’s good enough. Is there more to your story?"

"Not much, although on the last ship I was on there were some people with the ability to use magic, but not like mine. Theirs seemed to have more...power behind it. Like it was more offensive or something. Maybe it was just different though, and only seemed stronger. I wish I knew more about my own abilities... Recently I was able to do something with my magic that I'd certainly never done before. I worked with another similarly gifted person and my magic changed, became stronger."

Trynion shook his head in wonder. "It truly is amazing, isn't it? I do wish I could have told you more, but I know little besides what you yourself likely do now." He mused for a moment. "Hmm, I’m surprised that PSI hasn’t tried to catch the others you spoke of too..."

They stood in silence a moment, both pondering the new information they had received. Then Trynion's brow furrowed a bit as though as a new thought occured to him. He discreetly glanced at Mystryl's hands and then cleared his throat, speaking hesitantly. "Mysty, this may sound a bit...nosy, but humor an old man. I can see you don’t have a... well... wedding band on, which is good; I think you’re still far too young for that... But is there anyone... special to you? I would think that a pretty young thing like you would have several admirers. I certainly hope you've behaved yourself in that arena at least!"

Mystryl blushed a little, "I have... mostly. I mean, I had to get pretty friendly with some of my informants before they would talk, but I always evaded, intoxicated or drugged them before things got too serious. And yeah...maybe there is someone. His name is Tristan...Nightshade. He’s a very distant relation. I’ve only known him for a little while though..."

Trynion gave Mystryl a sidelong look. "He’s not a thief too, is he?"

Mysty smiled, a bit dreamy-eyed, "No, as far as I know the only thing he stole from me was a kiss." She glanced at her frowning father and cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Uh, he is...he was a lighthouse keeper," she explained hurriedly when she saw her father’s disapproving look.

"What do you suppose my opinion of him would be?" he asked.

"As high a one as you would have towards any man who might possibly have a chance of taking your little girl from you. I assure you, he is a truly honorable man. And fine to look at, which always helps!" she said with a wink.

"I see. Well, fine...I guess. Merlyne would be thrilled. Do you..." He stopped.

The pair could hear distant footsteps coming towards them.

"Oh no, they’ve found us! Dad, I’ve got to get you out of here!"

"Don’t bother with trying to get me out, the lock is melted anyway. They really seem to hate me! Just go and do your best to save yourself!"

"Are you telling me...you knew I couldn’t get you out?! And you didn't tell me that to begin with?" she demanded, doubly furious because there was nothing she could do, and because tears had sprung into her violet eyes despite her best efforts to restrain them.

"Yes, you would have just wasted our precious time trying in vain to get me out. I wouldn't have given up the conversation we just had for anything." He reached out to stroke her face lovingly and he wiped away a hot tear that was trickling down her face. He took her hand again. "Look at me, the soldiers are almost here. This is your only chance to save yourself. Now go!"

The footsteps came closer until they were at Trynion’s cell. It was two battered men, a young woman, and a boy ninja. Lyta Cabarel stopped in her tracks, astonished. "Mystryl? Hurry and come with us if you value your life!"

"No, I won’t leave without my father!"

"Leave me, Mystryl. Now that I have seen you again, I can finally be at peace. I will love you always." He embraced and kissed her as well as he could through the bars.

"I love you too, Daddy. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you." She released her father from her arms and gripped the bars.

Duncaan shook his head. "Aw, this is ridiculous. Those guards are going to catch us any minute now! And think of what they will do to us then! Sorry to do this Mystryl, but..." He stepped forward, pried Mysty’s hands off of the bars, grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder.

"Put me down, you big galoto! I can walk on my own!"

"Not good enough Mystryl, you have to run and now!" said Jakar.

Mysty gave up and the five people ran down the passage as fast as they could go. A short way after they had left, they heard distant voices yelling and a weaker one answering them. Yet, there was defiance in the old man’s words, enough to anger the guards. A shot rang out as a pistol was fired. Mystryl turned as if to go back, but Lyta grabbed her arm and dragged her on.

"Come on, there’s nothing you can do for him now! Save yourself!" she said between gasps.

Yes, I’ll save myself, but I will never forgive PSI. Never! The group escaped into the darkened city, unharmed.

Mikol Tauner, former Captain of the guard, watched with hatred and anguish such as he had never felt before while President Gorran walked calmly out of the torture room. His mind looked back an hour to the time when Tauner had delivered the news of the prisoner’s escape in person, knowing that there would be consequences. He never dreamed that the president could stoop as low as this, though. He was truly a master at inflicting pain on a man.

President Gorran had ordered him down here. Mikol was told that since the prisoners had escaped and there was a torture session scheduled, someone would have to take their place so that all of the effort that had been put into setting up things would not be wasted. Mikol had steeled himself, wishing he had been given time to say goodbye to his wife and only son, knowing better than to ask for any favors.

The torture didn’t take long. When it was over, Mikol Tauner was escorted, or rather, dragged out of the chamber to be thrown out on the streets, his face mottled and haggard from stress and weeping.

No one seemed to pay any attention to the remains of his son, his only child, still strapped to the instrument of death.