You hurried down the stone hallway, silently taking out the guards as you passed cell after cell.

"Where is he?"

A soft groan came from a cell ahead, and you hurried there, skidding to a stop and gripping the bars.

There he was. Mace kneeled in his own blood, wrists bound behind his back, manacled in iron shackles. His body was a wreck, and his head hung between his shoulders as if he were unconscious.