"I could scale the cell walls chimney style, seeing as they have carelessly been left so close together," he mused. The shackles were unfortunately fixed to a heavy bolt in the cell floor, preventing him from climbing anywhere near the trapdoor above.

"I see that my jailers thought of that already," Jack muttered after trying the scheme. "Then perhaps I shall work at dislodging the grate below. I am a small fellow and may be able to fit through the opening and discover where the cell's wastes are discharged. Given that this place is built upon an artificial island, they are almost certainly emptied into the sea. It is a foul path indeed, but I am desperate and cannot be fastidious in these matters."

The bars were as thick as spear shaft and evidently anchored deeply in the stone walls. With the strength of an ogre he could not have pulled them loose.

"Very well, then. I did not care for that scheme, anyway. Instead, I shall remove these enchanted shackles, thus making available magical abilities that must surely suffice to free me from this dismal place."

The shackles were enchanted quite well. Hours of experimentation convinced him that he'd have to break most of the bones in his hands to free himself of the irons on his wrists. Broken hands, of course, would drastically inhibit his ability to work magic, and there was no way that his feet could be crushed or pulped enough to slip out of his ankle irons.

"Even if I could free myself that way, I would have two broken hands and two broken legs," Jack mused. "Beginning my escape in such a condition would not be advisable."

Before Jack had determined which of the unattractive options promised the best chance for escape within the next decade, he was interrupted by the approach of booted feet, a number of them, in the corridor above. The procession stopped above his cell; a moment later, the trapdoor was pulled open. Lanterns bright enough to make Jack shield his eyes shone down on him.

"Jack Ravenwild," stated one of the guards above. "You have been summoned to appear before the Lord High Magistrate to answer to charges of treason, murder, arson, conspiracy, assault, and various other crimes and misdemeanors."

The guards lowered a narrow ladder into the cell. Two climbed down and freed his fetters from the bolt in the wall, then escorted him back up to the hall. There he was chained securely, blindfolded and hooded, and finally manhandled through the prison's labyrinthine passageways and out into the open sea air. He could hear a boat scraping against the stone quay, rocking up and down in the soft swell.

"The prisoner is ready for transport," said one guard aloud.

"Put him in the boat," another replied. "Chain him securely. The Lady Mayor herself wanted this one tried and condemned speedily."

"Are we going to see him again?" asked the first guard.

"That's up to the Magistrate," said the boatman. "I suspect that you'll hold him for a day or two, and then he'll be put to death." Someone prodded Jack with a cudgel and shoved him down into the damp bilge of an open boat. His chains rattled and clanked as they were secured to the boat in some unseen manner.

"It seems," Jack muttered to himself, "that attending my own trial is the only opportunity I will have to leave this place."

Jack was transferred from the boat to a small, shuttered wagon that trundled through the streets. The normal bustle and commerce of the city was missing altogether. Jack guessed that the hour was very late, but he'd thought that he had felt weak sunshine through the heavy hood during his short voyage across the harbor in the prison scow. If the sun was up, then the quiet of the city was very peculiar. He shrugged and set the issue aside; he had far more important things to worry about.

The wagon halted, and Jack was dragged out and hauled up a steep flight of stone stairs. Heavy doors creaked open ahead of him, only to boom shut when he and his captors passed. The quality of the sounds changed-footfalls echoed, the mail of his escorts jingled shrilly. They were inside a large building, which he guessed must be Ravendark Castle, seat of the city hall and location of the city's High Court. In all the years he'd lived in the city of Raven's Bluff, Jack had never once set foot in the place. Suspicious guardsmen and nosy bureaucrats made it a bad place to visit, if one's chosen vocation was not entirely sanctioned by the civic authorities.

He was ushered into another chamber, and his chains were fastened to a post or rail nearby. A soft murmur of voices sounded anxiously in the middle distance, the muted buzz of a hushed crowd or gathering.

"If the prisoner is secured, remove his hood," commanded a strong voice nearby.

"The shackles prevent the working of magic, my lord," responded someone very close to him. "He is helpless."

"Good. Unhood him, but maintain a careful watch. He is known to be quite elusive."

Jack was roughly handled for a moment as unseen hands worked at the bindings of his hood, and then the heavy leather mask was pulled away from his face. He stood in a prisoner's pulpit, his hands chained together, with the chain anchored to two heavy stone columns. Shafts of dim sunlight slanted across a small, high chamber of stone. Blinking to accustom himself to the light, he twisted around to look behind him. He was in a courtroom, the gallery filled with several dozen people, and in front of him behind a tall stand stood a very stern-looking man with a dour face and large, powerful hands clasping a rod of office. The judge looked over at a mailed guardsman standing by the prisoner's rail and nodded.

"Jack Ravenwild, you stand accused of high treason, murder, arson, assault, burglary, swindling, the malicious use of magic for sinister designs, and conspiracy to overthrow the rightful rulers of the city of Raven's Bluff," intoned the bailiff. "You stand before Lord High Magistrate Tordon Sureblade. What say you to these charges?"

"I believe there has been a terrible misunderstanding-" Jack began.

The bailiff cut him off. "You may plead guilty, not guilty, or no contest to the charges," the officer said.

"Not guilty then. I am innocent of every charge brought against me, and I warmly greet this opportunity to answer each one in due course." Jack cleared his throat and added, "If it please the court, may I be set free of these bonds? I confess that they distract me terribly from the grave matters at hand, and I fear that simply appearing in irons may unconsciously sway the court to view me in an unfavorable and undeservedly criminal light."

"Note the accused's plea as not guilty," said the Lord High Magistrate from his lofty vantage, "and leave him in his shackles." In another corner of the chamber, a court clerk hastily scribbled into a large leather-bound book, evidently recording the proceedings. Then the Magistrate turned his attention to Jack. "Understand, sir, that I am vested with the full and solitary power to hear your case, adjudicate your guilt or innocence, and pronounce sentence. As the High Magistrate for this city, I am the only appellate authority and the final arbiter of all matters of justice and order. You stand before me instead of a lesser magistrate because the charges laid against you are extraordinary in nature and capital in punishment. Do you understand?"

Jack managed a feeble nod. What little confidence he might have felt at regaining his sight and powers of speech was rapidly dwindling. He suspected he would have a hard time baffling Tordon Sureblade with a convoluted fabrication or warming his heart with charm and earnestness. In fact, he suspected that he would do very well to treat the Lord High Magistrate with the same caution he might give to an angry dragon.