A Chance To Say Goodbye: PART II

Marla F. Fair

Chapter Five: Ruin "Do you love him?"

Nightstar leaned on her mother's shoulder. Side by side they sat on the rough straw pallet their captors had provided them with. Koriand'r's arm was about her daughter's shoulders and the girl snuggled in close. A minute passed and then two. Just about the time her mother began to wonder if she had fallen asleep, she drew a breath and sighed, "I don't think I know what love is."

Koriand'r looked down at the top of her child's dark head and wondered what she had seen and heard all of these years that she herself had been deaf and blind. What had wounded her so, at such a young age? Surely more than her own supposed death? But then, thinking of her grandfather and his lifelong quest to make fair what his child's heart had declared unfair, she reconsidered. Then again, Bruce had been left totally alone. Nightstar had had Dick, hadn't she?

She sighed, wondering what scars were on his soul.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"How did you know you loved Dad?"

Koriand'r resisted the urge to laugh. That was a loaded question if ever she had heard one.

"Did you know right away?"

The Tamaranean paused, uncertain of what to say - not because she didn't know the answer to the question, but because of who had asked it. What sort of an example would she set when she said yes? And why had she loved him so swiftly and so totally? Before she even knew him and the kind of man he was? It was as if in that moment two halves of one soul came together... at least for her. A joining far more powerful than anything she had shared with Karras or Ph'yzzon.

"I had just escaped from years of torture and abuse. Your Dad...." She was going to say he reached out to her, but that wasn't the truth. He had been a friend, a good friend, but it took much introspection on his part to realize that he loved her too. "Oh Sweetie, I don't know. I just knew. First we were friends and then... It just grew. I wanted to be with him, to be loved by him. I knew I would have died for him."

Nightstar nodded. She was very quiet.

"Is it that way with Ibn, was it?"

Her daughter shrugged, and then nodded again.

Silence fell between them, punctuated only by the sound of a small troop of men passing just without their window. At last Kory asked, "Ibn al Xu'ffasch? That's an unusual name. What does it mean?"

The girl's eyebrows arched and she swallowed. "Son of the Bat," she said finally.

Her mother's brows echoed her own, brushing henna-colored bangs. The edges of her full lips turned down in an expression her child read as disapproval.

"Really."

* * * * * * "You do realize what you are contemplating is incredibly dangerous? There's no way to calculate the variables."

Dick met the dark stare of the young man who sat nearby him. Bruce was grabbing a little sleep before they landed in the Sudan and he and Ibn had fallen into conversation, talking quietly about their respective childhoods, about love and loss.

Stretching his arms back behind his head so the yellow bird on his chest seemed to sigh, the older of the two answered flatly, "Yes."

Ibn pursed his lips and steepled his long fingers. He looked over them, his eyes seeing something in the distant past. A sight not soon forgotten by a young child. The last time his grandfather had entered and emerged from the Pit before going irretrievably mad. "I would not choose to go into the Pit."

Not sharing the vision, that statement surprised the man he spoke to. "No? You are the natural heir."

Cautiously, Dick took a sip of the hot drink at hand, wrinkling his nose at its perfumey taste. Then as he sat it down he asked, "You don't want to live forever? So to speak."

Smiling at his reaction, Ibn answered, "To have the privilege to outlive all that I love? Or to force them to endure death and then arise with the promise of madness in order to remain with me?" The young man shook his head, the memory still fresh. "I think not."

"Yes. I understand. I wouldn't chose it either. Nor want someone else to choose it for me."

"You don't want to live forever?" Ibn asked, echoing Dick's own question.

"No. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Still..." Dick fell silent for a moment, fingering the china cup. "... would your choice - could it - be the same if it was the only way to save the one you loved? Could you let them die when you knew you could do something about it?"

"Ah," straight lips saw the echo of a smile, "there you have me."

Once again silence fell between them as Ibn sipped the jasmine tea and Dick tried to decide whether or not he wanted to hear the answer to his next question. He glanced back at the bunk Bruce occupied and then at Bruce's son. They were very alike, and yet so unalike. Curiously, Ibn seemed better balanced, less fanatical and driven. Given his parentage it was hard to understand.

"Do you love my daughter?"

Dark brows furrowed and white fingers shifted on the steaming cup. He took a deep breath and answered without preamble, "Yes. I believe I do."

Dick nodded. "I thought so."

Still again they fell silent. Ibn put the cup down and toyed with the crust of a small finger-sandwich. He stared at Nightstar's father, a man he admired very much, even more so since he had seen him fight back from the edge of the grave. "And what, sir, will you do about it?"

"Kill you." Ibn's brows rose. He started to speak, but Dick held his hand up and laughed softly. "If you ever do anything to hurt her. Other than that, I am afraid there is very little I can do. She is over eighteen and I think the feeling is mutual." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Of course, now, once we find her mother - there might be a little bit of a problem..."

"Oh?"

"Well, you are Ra's al Ghuls' grandson, and she knows how many times he tried to kill Bruce, as well as me. And...," he hesitated, unsure of how to proceed, "...well, I'll spare you her opinion of your mother. Suffice it to say it was not favorable."

"I see."

"And beyond that... Well, you are Bruce's son." Dick shrugged. "They were never the ideal in-laws."

Ibn smiled. "Then I shall undertake the task to prove I am not my parents. I consider it a challenge well worth the effort, and I thank you for the privilege of having a hand in restoring her to you and your child." He took a bite of the sandwich and chewed for a moment before adding, "I only hope it can be done without benefit of the Lazarus Pit. Her alien physiology is an unknown The mix of chemicals and poisons are meant for a human host..."

Dick grimaced, clenching his fist. "I know. Still, if it is the only way..."

"If it is, then I will lead you there."

* * * * * * "Bruce's son!"

Nightstar winced. "He's very nice..." She protested meekly.

"I'll bet." Koriand'r shifted and stood, bracing herself with a hand on the wall as her head spun. Standing tall, she crossed with all the grace she could muster to the narrow barred window and stared at steel posts anchored in concrete block. "Have you tried to bend or break these yet?"

The girl glanced up. She hadn't even thought of it. Slender as she was, she knew she couldn't wriggle through the less than a foot wide opening. Her mother certainly couldn't with her over six foot frame. "The opening's too small to get through."

Koriand'r looked back at her. "Concrete shatters."

Nightstar stood and walked to her side. "Yes... But I have no strength. These stupid bracelets," she held her hands up, the narrow bands still pulsing a pale purple, "they're sapping all of it." She inspected her mother as the starlight streamed through the window illuminating her handsome face, noticing the dark circles beneath her eyes and the tight set of her jaw. "You don't look so hot yourself."

Koriand'r closed her eyes for a second and then fixed her eyes on the window. She wasn't feeling so 'hot' either. Or in another way, she was. She could tell her temperature had risen and she was beginning to feel off-balance, disoriented, like she didn't quite belong to the body she was in. That - in and of itself - made escape from tthese madmen paramount. She would not lapse into a coma and leave her child alone with them to do X'Hal knew what with her.

"I am not as strong as I should be," she said at last, "but together we might be able to accomplish something. Can you concentrate your starbolts so they are a narrow line, much like a laser?"

Nightstar nodded. "I remember my training."

Koriand'r smiled at her. A broad proud smile. "Good girl. Then let's get at it."

* * * * * * Sometime later mother and daughter returned to their bed of straw exhausted. To the naked eye in the dim light of the cell it seemed they had accomplished nothing. But the weary pair knew, two hours steady work had weakened the mortar between the stones and begun to wear away the edges of the metal bars that framed the small bit of the outside world they were privy too. While they had worked, wary of discovery, Koriand'r had constantly surveyed the distant land, and as she did, had calculated just how far they would have to fly before finding shelter from hostile eyes.

Unfortunately, it was all too far.

Beyond their window the compound itself stretched some two hundred yards, its perimeter surrounded by a mesh fence and electronic devices that winked in the night like the eyes of a predatory cat. Just within this enclosure, a small ugly building housed the dozen or so white-robed men who seemed to be always on the move, constant as drones. Normally, the fence would have meant nothing to them with their ability to fly, but so long as they wore these bracelets, they would be forced to move on two feet, losing any advantage they had over their captor's watchdogs. Weak as they both were, it was not likely they would get far before being recaptured.

Still they had to try. If Koriand'r had learned anything through the long years of torture and slavery she had endured, it was never to give up. If she had, she would never have escaped from the Warlords, never made it to Earth, never met Richard Grayson or had this beautiful child who lay so still within the circle of her arms.

Twenty years old!

She still could not believe it. More than ten years of her life lost. Her child grown. Her husband left alone to be both mother and father. And then to have slept through this terrible conflict that Nightstar had only hinted at. One that had apparently changed everything forever. One that had almost ended her husband's as well as her child's life. She shuddered as she felt the reality of waking to a world without them strike her almost physically. There was obviously much her daughter was omitting. Information she was not willing to share here, in this place. Laying her hand on her child's, she decided she would have to be content with that for now. Dick was alive. Nightstar was alive.

That was all that really mattered. The rest could wait for another day.

That was, if she made it another day. Even sitting still, her head was buzzing and her throat felt sore. She could tell her fever was mounting and she was beginning to have to fight the urge to shiver. Glancing at the window, she knew their next attempt would have to be their last, else she would never get her child out of here.

With a sigh, she lay her head back against the stone wall and thought of her husband, aching to feel his arms about her. "X'Hal, please, let me see him again. Just once. That's all I ask."

"What Mom?"

Startled, Kory looked down to find her daughter awake. She hadn't realize she had spoken out loud. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I was just thinking about your father."

Nightstar murmured and pulled her mother's arm closer about her. "He's great, Mom. You'll see him. He'll come for us, I know he will."

Koriand'r smiled. "Yes. I know he will too." If he's just in time. She paused, listening to her child's heart as it beat evenly against her breast. "Nightstar?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Months ago, when your dad was injured... Did he almost die?"

The girl's head came up and she shifted into a sitting position a little apart from the Tamaranean princess. She stretched and yawned and then met her mother's eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

Kory's tone was firm. "Answer me."

Jade green eyes blinked. This wasn't the soft-spoken Mommy she remembered. Shortly, she answered.

"Yes. It was really close."

Koriand'r laughed, a sort of small gentle huff that surprised her child.

"What could you possibly find funny about that?"

Her mother lifted her hand and waved that thought away. "I'm sorry, that must have seemed heartless. I don't find it funny at all... just odd. I think I knew already."

Nightstar squinted trying to make out her Mom's face in the dim light. Maybe she was becoming delirious. "Mom, you couldn't have. Grandpa said you didn't even have any brain waves."

"And Grandpa is always right? I see he's trained you well in the years I have been gone." Koriand'r fixed her daughter with her great green eyes. "Bruce doesn't know everything. All of these years that have passed have not been totally blank for me. When I think about it, there were times..." She paused and took a deep breath. "Times when I have been aware of life going on about me and without me, even in that tank. I don't think your 'Grandpa' understands much about the soul..."

"Were you ever out of the tank? I know Grandpa tried to 'cure' you...?"

"I remember..." She frowned and shifted so she hugged her long legs with both arms. "Yes. At times I was released. I think I thought them dreams and my dreams, reality. Maybe that explains it." She sighed and took a deep breath before continuing. "Not long ago - or so it seems - who knows when it was... I thought I saw... Well, at the time I just thought it was a man, but now that you say your Dad has... Well, this." Releasing one of her hands she touched the pale yellow-white streak that ran the length of her Tuscan tresses. "I think I saw him."

"How? Where?" The girl shifted onto her knees. "What was he doing?"

Koriand'r's eyes grew distant. "Dying."

Nightstar's eyes narrowed and she frowned. "What did you see?"

"A great battle, the likes of which have decided the fate of many a world. Fire and light, flame and sword. Everything was a blur and it seemed as though I looked through another set of eyes. There was a man on the field of battle, dressed in black and red and yellow. His head was shattered. It looked like your Dad, but the hair was gray... here," she raised her hand to her temples, golden fingers flying back towards her ears, "and here. For a moment I seemed to see him standing above himself, staring straight at me and then he was gone. That's all I remember.

"I wonder if I was out of the containment unit about that time."

Nightstar ducked her head and avoided her mother's eyes. "I don't think so..."

Koriand'r ignored what she knew to be a sore subject with her child, remembering the brief vision. "Then perhaps we met on some other plain, one we shared for only a fleeting moment. From that time on I seemed to sense someone near me, even as I slept. I remember trying to call out, thinking it might have been your father. I even thought I saw you once."

The girl bolted upright, her eyes wide. "Dad's been having nightmares about you too!"

Kory's winged brows rose. "Nightmares?"

"Uh, well, dreams. I guess I call them nightmares because they scared me. You were always calling out to him, trying to reach him. I think it's what got this whole thing started. Why Grandpa told him you were alive."

"Oh." The golden woman was only half-listening when suddenly the meaning of her daughter's words got through. "You mean he didn't know I was still alive? Bruce didn't tell him?"

"Grandpa said he didn't want him to become like...Mr. Freeze... I think it was. You know, obsessed." The girl paused, remembering too. "No, we didn't know. Not until two days ago."

Without warning, the full impact of what had befallen her husband and child slammed into her with the physical power of a Gordanian battleship. To the ones she loved, she had not been asleep for ten years, but dead! A bone-deep ache filled her being as though she had experienced the loss instead of them. X'Hal! How had Dick survived? When they met again, would he even be the man she had known? Suddenly, fatigued or not, she knew it was time to go.

If she waited, she might never see him again. Just one kiss, she prayed, and a chance to say goodbye. That was all she asked.

"Nightstar," she inquired abruptly, "Are you rested?"

"Yes. At least I think so."

Koriand'r helped the girl to stand and pointed to the narrow window where the first pale streaks of sunlight were beginning to thread their way through the thin cracks they had made in the mortar.

"Then let's go."

* * * * * * Several miles from the camp, beyond the lush greenery of the oasis it nested in and behind a steep ridge of barren rock, the Batwing silently glided to the ground. Ibn had provided the coordinates, bringing them in close to the ground, well below the sophisticated net of radar and motion detectors bequeathed their adversary by his grandfather's demise. This had been one of Ra's favorite places in his last years, a simple, small and yet well-defended base deep in the heart of the land he loved so well. Here he had spent much time with his daughter Talia - and once he had allowed her to reclaim her child by the Bat - with their son. Ibn was well familiar with it, with the sound of the hot wind sighing through thick palm fronds and the whisper of wild four-footed sureness on the sand. So when the traces of what had been left by the kidnapper's shoes turned out to be that particular variety of sand, he had decided this special place would be the one Ahmuhd would retreat to, hoping to establish himself as the true successor to the Demon's Head.

Nightwing stood in silence watching the rising sun color the sand, the shadows moving from a deep blue to a velvety purple and finally to a golden-red as the sun rose on the other side of the ridge. Somewhere out there his family was waiting for him to find them. If God and luck, as well as skill and determination were with them, they might be reunited before the sun set on that evening. If not, by sundown, there might be nothing left.

Nothing at all.

A hand fell on his shoulder and he turned, expecting to find Bruce. It was instead Ibn, and for just a moment with the dawn light striking him just so, the resemblance between the father and son almost overpowered him. This must have been how Bruce had looked when he first donned the cowl: Young and inexperienced, but on fire to see that all that was wrong was made right.

"We will find them. I will not rest until we do."

Dick smiled and briefly touched the young man's hand. "That's my plan too."

"Are you two ready?"

Dick pivoted and even though he had seen the sight a thousand thousand times, still stepped back when confronted with the Batman incarnate. Bruce had donned his heavily-armored black suit complete with working wings and was just pulling on the solid gloves made of Kevlar III, the strongest and most impervious fiber known to man. Beside him he felt Ibn suppress the impulse to bow. It was the right response. They were in the presence of royalty. The Batman was indeed a king among men.

Finding their voices, Dick and Ibn acknowledged they were ready to move on, but the mouth beneath the Batman's cowl turned down at the corners as he surveyed his first partner's attire. "Is that your old costume, Dick?"

Dick glanced down at his Nightwing suit, blue and black as always. "Yeah. Why?"

"Perhaps you should wear one of mine. That fabric is well past its time. Anyone here could have bullets or blades that would slice it like soft butter. And you -" he turned on Ibn who fell back a foot before his father's strong presence. "You should stay with the plane. You look like you're ready for a night at the opera. Not a fight to the death."

"Bruce... Father," the dark-haired young man insisted politely, "you need me."

The Batman met his eyes and countered without missing a heartbeat. "I need you alive."

It was the closest he had ever come to admitting his feelings.

Ibn inclined his head, understanding , and then white teeth flashed in a somewhat feral grin. "I am not so without defense as it seems. This," he indicated his deep gray cape, "is made of the same stuff as your gloves, perhaps better. It is an invention of Grandfather's. And this," here he tapped the delicately embroidered brocade vest he wore, "is bullet proof as well." The young man then lifted the silver-headed cane he was wont to carry. Caressing a piece of the elegant metal-work he triggered a hidden latch. The end of the long stick opened and a slender rapier slid from its ebon interior. "I have this and ... other weapons which are not so easy to discern. I have also been trained in most forms of the martial arts from the age of eight. I imagine I could sweep the floor with you if I so desired."

The Batman simply continued to stare at him, impressed but not showing it.

"Or maybe not." The young man grinned and bowed, resheathing his elegant weapon. "Needless to say, I am not incapable of defending myself. You do not think I made it to this age without surviving at least five or six attempts on my life?"

His father nodded. "No killing." His eyes were on the rapier.

Ibn inclined his head. He hesitated imperceptibly, "As you say, Father."

Not entirely satisfied with that answer, but accepting it for the moment he turned back to the former Boy Wonder. "Nightwing, I am still uneasy about you. If there are weapons, move back. Let me take them out first."

"Gladly," the other man grinned, "I'm just along to find my wife and child. You two can have the fun of breaking open the heads this time."

The Batman glared at him for a split-second and then nodded. "Agreed. Ready, gentlemen?"

Nightwing and Ibn looked at each other and then at the legend who awaited their answer.

"Lead on."

* * * * * * Near the outskirts of the fenced-in compound two slender figures made their way from building to building, clinging to what shadows the early morning sun cast. When they were about ten yards from the mesh barricade, Koriand'r stopped her daughter's progress with a hand to her chest, keeping her from stepping into the waxing light.

"Mom, what is it? There's no one here. Now's the time to go!"

"Nightstar, are you always so impulsive? One would think you were sixteen! Use your head." When the girl continued to stare at her, no comprehension in her eyes, and opened her mouth to protest again, the Tamaranean princess sighed and held up her hands. "What do you think these are?"

"I told you, they're power 'zappers'."

"And what else do you suppose they might be?"

Nightstar shrugged. "The next wave in electronic jewelry?"

Her mother rolled her eyes. " I do hope that was a joke."

The girl tossed her black mane. "A lame one, yeah."

Koriand'r laid her hand alongside her child's cheek. "Think like your father taught you to. What would you use something like this for?"

The girl wrinkled her nose and thought about it a minute. "Well... It kind of looks like the collar we used to keep on Commander."

"That's right." Commander had been Nightstar's dog when she was a little girl, not so affectionately named after her late Aunt, Koriand'r's sister. As a puppy the animal had been particularly fierce and hard to bring to heel. Dick had made the comparison without thinking one day and the name had stuck. "And what was it for?"

"So we always knew where she was," the girl answered without hesitation, the light only then dawning.

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh."

"I guess I should have thought of that."

Koriand'r smiled softly. "You have been a bit distracted... with reason."

The girl returned her smile. "But Mom, if they know where we are..." Nightstar peered carefully around the side of the building, scanning the length of the fenced-in area that was visible from their current position. "Then why aren't they here?"

Her mother nodded. "Precisely. Something isn't right here."

The dark-haired girl continued to stare. "Maybe they're busy with something else."

Koriand'r looked at her daughter, her mind suddenly whirling. "Maybe..."

Nightstar drew a breath and turned to confront her mother. "Maybe Dad's here, and Grandpa."

Kory smiled. "Maybe. But I don't think we better hang around to make certain of that. We need to get you out of here."

"Me? What... me? What about you!"

The older woman sighed. "Think about it. It took the two of us just to loosen the bars on the window and to push out a five foot section of the wall. Neither of us can fly. Really fly. Maybe if I propel you, you can leap over the fence."

"Mom, no! I won't leave you. Never!"

"Both of us won't make it, Honey. Think!" Koriand'r took her daughter's narrow determined chin in her hands. "They have to know we're here, but I think they believe you are as weak as I am. They've made a mistake. Most of what we accomplished with the window and the wall was because of you. You have more power than you think. And they have made the same mistake. You aren't alien, not really. You are something more. They haven't counted on your human side and the strength you have naturally from your Dad."

Her daughter frowned. "You make it sound like its something special."

"What?" the princess demanded.

"Being human."

Kory was startled. The young girl before her was in deadly earnest. "Nightstar," she said quickly, glancing behind them, "I'm not sure I believe what I am hearing, but we really haven't time for this now. If your Dad has arrived, this may be the only chance we have, while everyone is distracted. I want you out of here. But understand me," she looked her daughter straight in the eye, scolding her, "some of the finest beings I have ever known are human. And it is special. The human spirit is indomitable. Humans have the ability to rise far above what might be reasonably expected of them. They have no super strength or extraordinary powers, and yet men like your father and your grandfather are on an equal with the likes of Superman. I have never met a braver man than your father for the very fact that he is human."

Nightstar ducked her head. "I always thought we were better than they were."

The corners of her mother's mouth turned down sharply. "If you were ten years old again..." She hesitated, curbing her anger. Now was not the time. "Where did you ever get an idea like that?"

The cowed girl opened her mouth to answer, but just then an alarm sounded. Whether or not the bracelets were tracking devices, they had been missed. Kory met twin jade eyes, much like her own and said quickly, "Now or never. Get away. Bring help."

"Mom, I -"

She kissed her child on the head. "I love you, Nightstar and I promise I'll be here when you return. Now, give me your foot and fly!"

Nightstar took one last look at this woman she had thought she would never see again and placing her foot in the her cupped hands, gathered all of her strength into one tremendous jump, flying straight into the air, riding the air currents over the fence toward freedom.

"I love you, Mom."

Koriand'r watched her land and waved her on. She could hear the tramp of feet behind her. With one last lingering look, the girl disappeared into the shadows of the trees.

"Royal to the end, I see, Tamaranean. Sacrificing yourself for your half-breed whelp."

The princess turned to find a tall well-muscled man standing behind her, a curious tube-like device attached to his gloved hand. His dark blue clothing was mostly covered by a long flowing cloak the color of blood, and on his head he wore a mask fashioned of ebony. Like the Egyptian God Anubus it bore some resemblance to a jackal, but so stylized was it with eyes of ruby red and gold inlays that defined feature and bone, that it gave him the appearance of a demon from some nightmare vision of Hell. Koriand'r stood and dusted off her knees, straightening the soft silvery gown she wore. The burst of energy needed to lift Nightstar over the barricade had left her winded and light-headed, but she refused to give in to it. Gravely ill, burning with fever and weak from lack of food, her dignity was still intact.

"I will go with you," she said simply, offering no resistance.

"There was never any choice."

The man pointed the odd device at her and released some sort of trigger. Momentarily an electrical charge jumped from its end, striking her. White light danced through her hair, over her lips and ran down her legs. With a gasp, she fell to the ground. Her body twitched once and then she lay still.

* * * * * * From the topmost part of one of the trees that lined the edge of the compound Nightstar watched her mother fall. About her the monkeys that lived in the branches screeched and howled, frightened by the electrical display. She shrank back behind them and continued to stare in horror as soldiers cloaked all in white from head to toe turned toward the sound. Within minutes she knew the search for her would begin. She had to go. Her mother had just given everything she had to give her this chance. She couldn't waste it.

With small fists clenched she watched the man in the black walk away as one of his men lay a boot to the princess' side thrusting her over on her back so her bloodied face pointed toward the morning sky. Then the soldiers lifted her and bore her away. Infuriated, Nightstar tasted blood as pure white teeth punctured her pale full lips.

"Mom," she whispered, shifting so she could leap to the next tree as the white guard began to head toward the stand where she waited, "I know you won't approve, but I'm not going to leave you.

"Ever."

* * * * * * Koriand'r awoke in a dark humid place. It was not the same cell she had shared with her child but something worse, somewhere even farther from the light. Three walls of solid rock formed a kind of horseshoe about her, and the fourth - comprised of nothing but six inch bars of steel set less than four inches apart - made her feel like a caged animal. She drew a deep breath and instantly regretted it. The air was noxious. It choked her, filling her nose and throat, making her cough spasmodically. Weakened as she was by lack of food and her recurring illness, it almost made her pass out. Sheer willpower alone kept her conscious. That and the need to see her child and her husband again.

She sat up and realized as she did so that she was chained to the floor. Heavy links of a dark galvanized metal fell from locked cuffs which surrounded her hands and feet, binding her to the spot. She lifted both arms and reached towards the bars, but her grasp fell short by two or three feet. Glancing at her golden hands, she saw the bracelets were still there as well, and glowing brighter than ever.

"It seems I underestimated you. You and your whelp. I will not make that mistake again."

Closing her eyes, Koriand'r sighed and steeled herself for what was to come. When she opened them and looked at her captor, would her child be in his arms? Had they caught her already or had she managed to escape? Was she free? Perhaps already with her father or Bruce?

Afraid, but not willing to show it, she uttered a brief prayer to her goddess asking for strength and then lifted her head, turning to face her unseen persecutor, and as she did, she filled her mind with vivid images of his broken and scorched corpse at her feet. Dick would not have approved, but then... he was not here. She had survived more than a decade of torture long before she had met him and she knew what it took. Later, she would be generous if she could.

"It is not wise to underestimate one's enemy. A pity so many make that mistake."

Koriand'r froze in place, her eyes fixing him, the stare bold and unafraid.

"See that you do not."

"A threat. From a dying alien. I am terrified."

"Unleash me and I will show you how ill I am," she countered, straining against her chains. "I have enough strength to tear you apart."

The man with the demon's head gazed at her for a moment and then nodded, the ruby eyes flashing, seemingly on their own. "Most likely you do. That is why you are restrained. I am not finished with you yet, alien, but be assured when I am, you will die."

The princess shifted, bringing her feet up under her and standing. She could just about stretch to her full height. Tightly clasping the chains, she drew upon what meager energy she felt pulsing in her veins and without warning lunged straight at him. The chains groaned, the rivets in the floor protesting, but they held. The tall man backed away, startled. Less than a foot short of the bars she stopped and panting, fell back and onto her knees.

"Impressive but pointless," the man said, obviously shaken.

She grinned, white teeth shining against golden skin several shades too pale. "I had to know."

He laughed, briefly. Nervously. "I would save my strength if I were you, alien. You are dying. What little time you have left is precious."

Her eyes narrowed. Precious? To him? "Why precious? You care nothing for me..."

"True. Not for you, but for what will come of you." There was a pause as he clicked a small device in his hand and a wide screen, nearly four by four, flickered on behind him to show the vast desert that lay beyond Ra's al Ghul's small green oasis. At the moment the view was empty. "Before I desired only the death of your mongrel child and counted on your inability to control your rage at her death. I hoped to lay the evils of your alien kind at your feet, to destroy those who have power and wield it as they see fit - as though they were gods and we who are merely human, ants beneath their feet. In this way the conflict between man and superman would have escalated until your kind - those who have invaded, infested and devastated this world - were no more. But now... Now I have better plans for you and your child ..."

The Tamaranean strained at her bonds, fire raging in her veins, aching to burst free. "Nightstar is free! You can't use her."

The demon turned his head to look at her. "Is she?"

Two words. Only two. But she would never know. Koriand'r took another breath, coughing less this time. "You are a liar," she whispered, weakness overpowering her will, "I refuse to believe you."

"Believe what you want, but know this. From your blood - and from your child's - will come a plague such as this world has never known. Any who are not human... those whose genes have betrayed their species and those who come from worlds far away ...will fall prey. There will be no more 'super' men, only men."

"You aren't a man," she whispered, surrendering at last to the fatigue that rolled over her with tsunami force. "You are an animal." She fell to the ground, her breath coming in harsh gasps, "An animal." "Better that than an alien, bitch."

* * * * * * Nightstar hesitated outside of the cell she and her mother had been confined in earlier. Having played a brief game of hide and seek with the men who had poured out of the compound shortly after her mother had been taken away, she had returned to the treetop to wait, guessing they would first look far afield for her, not suspecting she had doubled-back toward the place of her captivity. Half an hour later she swung to the ground, using a passing herd of gazelle as a living shield. After that, she had reentered the compound by squirming her way under the fence, careful not to touch it. Her mother most likely would be furious with her, but she just couldn't abandon her, not on some vague hope that somehow her father had managed to track them down. What was she supposed to do? Wait until the Batwing swooped out of the sky like some dark savior, lifting them from the dirt and the pain, miraculously reuniting their family? No. Things only happened if you made them happen.

She looked in through the hole in the concrete block wall and frowned. Somewhere, somehow the inner hallway their guards had used had to connect with the place they had taken them for examination. She was betting that was where her mother was now. But something about the darkened room and empty pallet bothered her, as though the ghost of something really extraordinary haunted the place - something she had lost and might never find again. Ill at ease, she skirted the broken stones and moved on in search of another way in.

* * * * * * Two shadows black against the advancing morning light landed with catlike sureness on the corrugated roof of one of the outbuildings that hugged the electrified fence. In tight formation Nightwing and the Batman had breached the compound, counting on Bruce's robotic aid back in the Batwing to run interference with it's electronic eye. Retracting the batline, the Batman silently signaled his former partner as the two began the familiar game of leaping from one rooftop to the next, hastening toward their ultimate destination: The large warehouse-like building at its' center.

As had been decided on the three mile trek to the oasis, Ibn waited outside the mesh barricade, ironically leaning on the very tree Nightstar had only recently vacated. Impatient, he nevertheless stood very still, passing the time as best he could, trying not to think of the young woman he had come to know and to care about deeply who was a prisoner here. Five minutes later he moved towards the fence, careful to check for any guards. Thirty seconds later, the scrambling device in place, he used a small handheld acetylene torch to cut the metal and stepped through. Once inside, he moved to another spot where he could avoid the rays of the rising sun and settled in. Rolling back the silk cuff that covered his Rolex he checked the time. Eight more minutes... Seven. Six.

Time seemed to stand still. The Batman had told him to maintain radio silence for a full fifteen minutes during which time he and Nightstar's father would make their way to the roof of the warehouse and get their equipment into place. They were trying to confirm the presence of Koriand'r and her child within the vast complex. If indeed they were there, then he was to make his way in on the ground floor and attempt to find them. Though well trained, combat did not come first nature to him and he was quite content to leave it to the other two to battle their way in, giving cover to his more covert activities.

Minutes before while standing beneath the whispering palm trees, he had watched as their shadowy forms had flown overhead, passing swiftly and without a sound. A wary guard walking directly beneath their path had seen and heard nothing, and even now paraded back and forth before the fence as though his great vigilance deserved some sort of a reward. He had been told of these two as a child. His mother had often spoken of the Bat with longing and affection, and though his grandfather had been their enemy, he too had respected them as no other. But now that he had met them, been in their presence and come to know their hearts, he realized what he knew was but the beginning of the tale.

One he hoped he would be permitted to learn in greater detail.

Glancing at his watch again he drew a breath and began to move forward. Thirty seconds late. Four and a half minutes remained. His father had told him to be on the other side of the main building at precisely five fifty-five. He had to hasten his pace. Moving swiftly, he found his mind returning to the fate of the young woman he had known only briefly. She was here somewhere. And she was in grave danger. Ahmuhd was a madman, one the fates should never have allowed to live. If not for his grandfather's final vanity, it would not have happened. Ahmuhd had been left to die, but there was the remaining Pit. Ra's had not been able to bring himself to destroy them all, even when it seemed his long immortal life must end at last and he knew neither his child nor his grandson desired eternity on earth. Someone had placed Ahmuhd in it and he had found life again. Life and an even deeper deadlier madness.

Ibn sighed. He had known all of this and had said nothing and now Nightstar was here - perhaps dying - as if by his hand. Still, he had thought the man's continued existence only a myth. A mistake many had made with his own grandsire and had not lived to regret.

He drew a breath and shook off the guilt. At the moment, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that he find her. Then he could determine what words he would speak to her - whether he would apologize or propose. Or simply hold her and never let go. Setting his jaw, he hurried around the corner of the next to last building before the main structure, ready for whatever might happen.

"Look out!"

Ibn al Xu'ffasch raised his eyes a split-second too late to keep from colliding with the rapidly moving object that was heading his way flying about four feet above the ground in a rather erratic course. Unexpectedly he found himself knocked to the ground, his arms and legs entangled with those of a very angry, but very much alive Nightstar.

"You idiot!" she screamed as she freed her arm from beneath the long tail of his dark suit coat, "what do you think you're - Ibn?"

His clothing rumpled, his black hair tousled and in his eyes, the young man nevertheless still managed to appear dignified. "Uhh, Nightstar? We have come to rescue you."

The dark-haired girl laughed, dusting herself off and hauling him to his feet. She held him at arm's length gazing at him a moment and then embraced him impulsively, "Ibn!"

Relieved beyond what he thought possible, he returned her hug saying, "Nightstar, you're free! Thank God, I - we were afraid -"

Abruptly she released him and glanced behind her. A frown marred her beautiful face. Quickly rising up on her toes, she planted an unexpected kiss on his lips and grabbing his hand began to pull him in the opposite direction. "Come on!"

"What? Why?" Dust flew from his Italian shoes as they drug the ground. "Nightstar?"

She pointed.

Looking back he saw a group of five or six armed men pointing rather nasty looking weapons at them. Trained Dobermans accompanied them, straining at their leashes, hungry for blood.

"That's why!" Nightstar took a deep breath and then moving behind him wrapped her arms about his narrow waist. "Have you ever flown?"

He looked startled. "Me?" He nodded. "Of course."

"Without a plane?"

"What? I..." He felt his feet leave the ground and realized the girl was carrying them into the air,

"Nightstar, I'm not -"

She grinned wickedly. "Consider this the first of our 'firsts'." And then close to his ear, she whispered, "Just don't tell my Dad."

* * * * * * Nightwing and his partner had arrived at the central structure having met little resistance. Somewhere along their path three guards lay unconscious. Several others were bound and gagged, and all security devices were now registering internal errors or playing back a prepared loop that showed the roof of the main building quiet and unoccupied as ever.

As Nightwing finished installing the last of the listening devices, he set the headphones on his shoulders and gently touched Bruce's arm.

"What's that?"

Somewhere to their left a commotion had broken out. Voices were raised in anger and dogs were barking as if eager for the hunt.

"Ignore it," the Batman ordered turning to his own work.

Nightwing frowned unable to. "I hope it isn't Ibn," he said at last, casting a glance in the direction of the noise.

"The boy can take care of himself. Concentrate on the task before you." The man in black opened a small compartment in the sleeve of his suit and sent a fine filament through the hole he had made in the roof of the building. A second later he depressed an elliptical button activating the miniature fiberoptic camera. As they became screens, the white eye-slits in his cowl glowed, giving him a demonic appearance. "I don't see either of them."

Nightwing shook his head. He was listening to other voices, those of the guards and others who were in communication over the vast network that linked the compound. Suddenly his skin went white. "She's in there. Not near though." He listened again, somewhat frantic. "Somewhere farther inside. A cavern beneath the building, I think."

"She?" The Batman asked, his voice infuriatingly even. "Only one?"

Nightwing nodded, his face unreadable. "Koriand'r."

"So she is alive. No word of Nightstar?"

"Wait!" Dick's hand came up and suddenly he pivoted toward the area where they had heard the commotion. "That noise. That was Nightstar and Ibn. We have to - "

The Batman's gloved hand closed about his shoulder. "She can take care of herself too, son. They're both well trained adults. Your wife has to be your first concern." He paused, weighing his words. "She has very little time left."

Nightwing stared at him, torn. "Bruce, she's my child - "

"It's your wife's life. Nightstar is with Ibn. I'm beginning to realize there is more to that boy that I thought. She'll be safe."

His partner dew a deep breath looking longingly toward the area which had now grown quiet, and then nodded slowly. "What next?" he asked, accepting the priorities fate had set for him. "How do we find Kory?"

"We get inside first. Now that we've lost Ibn, we will have to - "

As he spoke his cape suddenly lifted off of the roof and began to flap in the wind. Nightwing almost lost his footing as a blast of air struck him unexpectedly and as they watched a dark green helicopter rose above the corrugated roof, its props whirling madly against a blood red sky. The Batman pointed and his partner noted that the open door held several men, one of which had some sort of weapon in his hand. A big weapon.

Nightwing yelled, "Duck!"

The man in the helicopter fired a small missile which sailed just past them to strike the ground with shuddering force. The Batman grabbed his former ward's arm as he drew a small gun-shaped device of his own from his utility belt. Aiming it at the roof he shouted, "Then we go in the hard way!" Seconds later, amidst shards of white hot metal two dark figures rained down on the scene below. They landed in the middle of a vast lab. Rolling with the impact, Nightwing rose and shifted so he stood back to back with his mentor. About them several dozen men in white robes and hoods turned from their various tasks, taking note. Soon anything that could be employed as a weapon was in their hands.

"Now what?" he shouted.

"Get away however you can!" the Batman answered as he drew himself into a ball and then flew through the air towards the closest group of men. "Find Koriand'r!"

Nightwing pivoted, preparing to follow his partner when he saw one of the men - one who had a sigil of some nature on his white sleeve as opposed to all of the others whose robes were pure - grab a small metal box and head for a yawning doorway on the opposite side of the vast room. He hesitated for a split second glancing at Bruce who seemed to be holding his own, and then following some instinct he didn't fully understand, bounded off after him. Seconds later he found himself somersaulting beneath the foot-thick metal door as it clanged shut, sealing him off from the lab and his partner who was prevailing against overwhelming odds.

Aware of what had happened, the Batman drew fresh strength from his Nightwing's escape. At least one of them would be free to carry on. Revealing white teeth, he bit back pain as yet another adherent of Ahmuhd's slammed into him. In spite of the robotic nature of the suit he wore, his aging body felt the impact. He was growing weary. Without warning, a large man raised a metal cart over his head and brought it crashing down against his skull. Almost blacking out, he fell to his knees. Hot blood run down his cheekbone toward his chin. This was it. There were simply too many of them.

Just then as oblivion beckoned, he heard a familiar voice and looked up to see his granddaughter drop through the hole in the ceiling like an avenging angel. Ibn was in her arms.

"Hold on, Grandpa! I'm coming!"

Renewed, the Batman found strength to regain his footing. Since twenty years of compiled injuries had taken their toll, his robot army had done the fighting for him. He was out of practice. Still, he had always held on to the fact that his will was stronger than the body which housed it. Waving at Nightstar he slammed his fist into the closest thing he could find, which just happened to be the nose of his nearest attacker. "Where's Dad?" the girl yelled as she came alongside him.

"Gone to find your mother."

Several minutes passed as the two of them fought back to back. Nightstar still wore the power dampeners, but since her mother had reminded her to call on her human strength and power, they were only minor annoyances. She still couldn't fly, but could leap great distances and she could hold her own with the strongest of men. Still, she stood in awe of her grandfather's might and tenacity. The man wouldn't give up, even though blood was flowing from his nose and the lights on his suit were blinking wildly. Finally as yet another wave of men began to attack them the girl asked, amazed. "Grandpa, where are they all coming from?"

"I don't... know. There seems to be no end," he panted, fatigue threatening to overcome even his indomitable will. "I think it's the same group, over and over. Look there are no bodies on the floor."

Black hair flew as she glanced from one side to the other. He was right.

"But how? Grandpa!"

One of Ahmuhd's men had snuck up behind the Dark Knight and landed a blow with a lead pipe to the his shoulder. The older man crumbled and lay still. As she bent to help him, Nightstar heard a familiar voice raised in a cry.. Looking up she saw Ibn being lifted high above the crowd and borne away.

"Ibn!" she screamed. "Grandpa, they've hurt him! Ibn!"

"Forget him," he whispered, battling the darkness that threatened to overwhelm him, "Nightstar, get away. If you don't - "

"Grandpa, I - "

A moment later there was nothing left in the room to see but a milling, winding wave of white.

Chapter Six: The Pit Nightwing stumbled, his booted foot catching on a rough uneven patch of rock. This was not at all what he had expected when he followed the man with the arm band out of Ahmuhd's high-tech lab. Apparently he was in a tunnel. Beneath his gloved hand he could feel cold hard stone. There were no lights. The air was stale and it stank of rotten eggs. Thousands of rotten eggs baked in cinnamon sugar. Sweet and sickening. Holding his hand over his nose, he hastily engaged the night-vision goggles in his black mask and scanned the area ahead for the one he had followed.

Curiously his prey seemed to have disappeared. Taking a moment he crouched down at the bottom of the rough wall - hoping the air would be cleaner nearer the floor - and closing his eyes, sought to fine-tune his other senses. Within seconds he became aware of the intake and output of breath nearby. The other man was waiting for him. Most likely armed and laying in ambush.

Grinning, the crimefighter crept stealthily forward, alert but relaxed. This man was a scientist, not a hunter and he could smell him sweat. Two seconds before his finger would have closed on the trigger, a flat silver disk flew through the air to disarming him. Three seconds later he was pinned to the tunnel wall, panting heavily, facing what must have seemed to him a black demon from hell.

Nightwing was not happy.

"All right, where is it?" he demanded, breathing deeply in spite of the rotten air.

"W-what?' the man stammered, faceless behind his all-concealing hood.

"What you were so determined to get out of the lab back there. The refrigerated box I saw you grab before you ran."

"I - I don't know what you mean." The man's voice shook. Obviously confrontation was not in his job profile...

Nightwing moved in closer, narrowing his eyes and dropping his voice, utilizing all of the intimidation techniques he had been taught by the best. "Look, I don't have a lot of time and I am not a patient man. You tell me what I want to know or together we'll move on down this tunnel and I will give you a personal tour of what is at it's end.." He had a pretty good idea of what lay at the bottom of the long narrow passageway, but even if he had guessed wrong, it was obviously not somewhere this man wanted to go. "It's just you and me and a long dark tunnel with Hell at the end. Is whoever you are protecting worth it?"

"He'll kill me."

Nightwing's brows arched demonically behind his mask. "And what makes you think I won't?

The man laughed, a guttural insulting sound. Still, he squirmed in his hand. "You hero types. You don't kill. You're bluffing."

Beneath the hero's mask the man, Dick Grayson, who had been torn from his wife and child, was not so certain what he was or was not capable of. Allowing a portion of that anger and fear to bleed into his rasping voice, he whispered, "There may have been a time when that was true. But in case you haven't noticed, pal, things have changed. The world isn't the place it was and I am not the man I was. I have lost friend after friend. Seen hundreds of good men and women die for the likes of scum like you. Somewhere in this stinking place are my wife and child and you better believe I will do whatever it takes to get them back." He slammed the white-robed figure into the wall and lifted the man's stocky form several feet from the ground, allowing his feet to dangle as he slowly began to choke. "What is your measly life to me compared to theirs? What are you to me but an obstacle? Or - if you choose to - you could become a means to an end. Your choice."

The man shifted, clawing at his throat. "Can't breathe. Let me... go."

"Are you ready to talk?"

The white head bobbed up and down and Nightwing slowly lowered him so his feet were just touching the cold wet floor of the tunnel. "I hid it, back the way we came. Let me go and I'll take you there."

Nightwing snorted. "No tricks."

The voice behind the mask assured him. "No tricks."

He let him go. A second or two later trailing close behind him, he became aware of the fact that he had been betrayed. They were not alone. Swiftly dropping and kicking out with his left leg, he felt it connect as a feathered dart sped over his head. The man behind him went down without a sound, but in the time it had taken him to fell the newcomer, his original attacker had regained both his courage and his gun. The latter was pointed at Nightwing's chest.

Chagrined, the former Titan raised his hand. "I guess you've got me."

"I most certainly do, traitor." At Nightwing's look he added, "That's right. We all know who you are. You should be happy to know that all you and others like you have done will be redeemed by my master's plans. Humanity may yet forgive you for your sins."

"My sins?" Dick gauged the distance between them, calculating the jump. "And what would those be?"

"Intermarriage with an alien. Willful pollution of the species. When Siddig al Ahmuhd, the Demon's Hand has accomplished all he desires, those such as you will be his willful slaves."

The Demon's Hand? That was a presumptive title. Nightwing paused and then asked suddenly, leading him on, "So now that you have me, why don't you tell me what's in the box..."

The man shifted as though listening to some inner voice, though Nightwing suspected it was really an internal relay system. "The others are coming. They are close to opening the door." He leveled the gun at the crimefighter's mask, adding, " Your other friends are taken. Soon you will all be dead."

Bruce and Ibn? Had they really been caught? He swallowed hard and then countered, "I thought I was going to be a slave."

The barrel of the man's gun struck his face, splitting the skin on his cheek. Nightwing yelped and made the decision to fall to his knees, pretending it had disoriented him.

"Infidel!" his attacker screamed, "You will learn. Do you want to know why the master has your wife and child?"

"Yes," he answered, tensing as the tell-tale sounds of a heavy door being breached echoed down the walls of the tunnel. He had a couple of minutes at best. "Tell me."

"In your wife and your child's veins runs the stuff of legends. A virus more potent than anything we could have imagined, more than that which my master sought to create all those years ago. And even more, they hold the key to opening the door to world domination. Their sacrifice will allow us to fulfill the desires of our original master. With what we learn, we will free this world of all infestation."

This was bigger than Dick thought. Ra's al Ghul's plans had led to the death of hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions over the span of his centuries long life. "So what was in the box?" he prompted.

"The beginning and the end."

Blue eyes narrowed, "The curse and the cure?"

"Yes, and you will never possess it." The white-garbed man lifted his foot to slam Nightwing in the chest, but at that moment his intended victim shifted, throwing the attacker off-balance. He could hear the other men shouting as they sought their colleague in the tunnels. He had little time. Locking an arm about the man's throat, he hauled him back into one of the narrow crevices that lined the rock wall. Applying pressure, he threatened him.

"Last chance," he said, squeezing tighter. "Where is it!"

"I choose to die."

"Then welcome to Hell." Nightwing pressed even harder and the man passed out, falling limp in his arms. He then lowered the body to the ground, propping him against the uneven wall. He had only seconds to fly. As he turned to toss the man's weapon farther along the hallway, one of the lights which had begun to stab the darkness seeking him fell across a small neat metal package tucked against the opposite wall not six feet from where he stood. Diving for it, he cradled the box against his body and somersaulted on down the tunnel, running headlong towards the flickering firelight and sulfurous unknown.

* * * * * * Ibn awoke to darkness. He sat up and shifted, surprised to find he was unfettered. Obviously, their captors didn't consider him much of a threat. He had gone down easy enough, struck from behind while his eyes were on Nightstar and her grandfather. He felt ashamed. He had been so easily distracted, and after all he had said to the Batman about being able to protect himself. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he realized he was being held in a small square cell cut from the earth and that he was not alone. At his feet, shattered and broken, lay the remnants of the armored suit of the Bat.

"Batman?" he pivoted quickly, narrowing his eyes as he tried to pierce the black night of the cell. In the far corner, a shadow within shadows shifted and he saw him, a battered broken figure. Crossing the cell quickly, he knelt beside him, feeling like a squire at his conquered knight's side. "Father?"

Bruce's breathing was shallow. Blood had crusted on his lips and in his white hair, but as his face turned towards him, he saw the fire in his eyes had not dimmed. Obviously he had been roughly treated, stripped of his suit and his dignity, but he was alive and unbowed. His son laid his hand on his shoulder and simply remained silent for a moment. Then he thought to glance about the cell for the other members of their party.

"They aren't here."

Ibn turned to him. "You are aware." He lifted his hand, rocking back on his heels and then asked, "They?"

"Nightstar or her father. They took her away." Bruce bit his lip against the pain as he shifted to straighten up against the cell wall. "I tried to stop them. I failed."

His son knew what that admission had cost the older man. "And Nightwing?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Bruce laughed and then coughed. "He got away."

That brought a smile to his son's lips. "Then there is hope." Ibn al Xu'ffasch stood and began to prowl the cell, walking from one side to the other. At the bottom of one wall he found a small grate that allowed air to flow from the next room into this one. Kneeling down he pressed his head against the opening and gasped. "What? What is it?"

"The Pit," the young man whispered, his voice shaking. "It is the Pit."

"The Lazarus Pit. One of your grandfather's?"

Ibn nodded. "The last."

"How can you be certain?'

"I know," the young man asserted. "I remember well the scent of Hell."

Bruce fell silent for a moment and then he began to shift his feet under him. "Ibn, help me up."

His son regained his feet and turned to fasten dark eyes on the older man. His breathing was ragged and his color pasty. "No. You must rest. We are trapped. There is nothing we can do. These are the holding cells beneath the compound. They are inescapable. Grandfather saw to that."

Bruce continued to struggle, righting himself and pulling his battered frame off the ground. Ibn ran to his side and supported him, awed by his resolve.

"I don't believe in negatives. Is there enough of the suit to wear? Will it offer any protection?"

"Very little. Perhaps as much as my vest. But what can you do, broken and bloodied? You can barely stand."

Grim determination fired his answer. "I can fight...and I can win."

* * * * * * Twenty yards away, through several feet of solid rock and even heavier metal doors, Nightwing advanced warily, drawing closer to the source of the pulsing light and noxious smells. By this time he had disengaged his night vision appliances as they were no longer necessary and had slowed his pace. He seemed at last to have thrown off the men who had broken through the door and raced to follow him. Curiously, once he had moved beyond the tunnel and entered the cavernous world below, they had pulled back as though afraid - or unwilling - to follow. Now he found himself quite alone.

Quickly surveying his surroundings, he decided to duck into one of the many rooms that branched off of the main chamber, intent on checking out the contents of the box he had taken from Ahmuhd's goon. It was cold against his skin and his pounding heart. He genuinely hoped the man had not been lying to him. If he had been telling the truth, he now held Kory's life in his hands.

Moving on cat's feet he swiftly covered the open area watching for monitors and guards. There didn't seem to be any at this level. Wary, he entered one of the narrow gaps in the rock wall, placing the container between his feet as a precaution before glancing about. A dimly lit area lay before him, secured with bars on one side. Turning quickly, he made certain he had not stumbled into a trap. Then he realized he was on the outside of a jail cell looking in, not the other way around.

A limp figure lay on the floor in the center of the cell, heavy chains binding its hands and feet. Turning on the night vision once again, he took a step forward only to have his heart skip a beat.

Now two beats.

"My God. Kory?"

Stunned, he fell to his knees just without the bars, reaching one of his hands towards the red-headed form that lay motionless on the cold hard ground. Was she alive? Had he come too late? "Kory, Honey. It's me. God... Kory..."

The figure shifted slightly, one hand stretching out towards his. Her head lifted slowly, as though with great effort, and finally a pair of beloved eyes - eyes he thought never to see again - looked at him, but they were wide with fever and showed no sign of recognition.

"Hello. Is... someone there...? I thought I heard...."

Dick couldn't speak. It was her. Alive. After ten years... Tears filled his eyes and he began to tremble. "Kory...?"

There was a sudden intake of breath. Her voice shook as well. "Dick? Dick?"

"It's me, Hon." He stretched his hand farther, his fingers almost finding hers. "Kory, it's me. I've come to take you home..." The tears were running down his cheeks freely now. "You and our child..."

Her head came up and saw him, really saw him, her wide green eyes wet and wild. "He has her! Dick, he has her below! He paraded her past me, I don't know how long ago. The fever..." she sighed and laid her other hand alongside her head, "I'm afraid I can't stay awake for long. It's happening again, just like the last time."

Suddenly he remembered the box. Blessed salvation in a box not ten feet away. "Hold on," he said, as though she could do anything else. Quickly he retrieved the metal container bringing it near the bars. "This holds the cure, Kory. I got it from one of Ahmuhd's men when he tried to take it to safety."

"Ahmuhd?" She shifted onto her knees, balancing her hand against the floor. "Who..."

"It doesn't matter," he answered, breaking the lock on the box. 'We have to... Oh no."

"What?" Her eyes lit with fear. To be so near... "What is it?"

"There are ten vials, marked two different ways. Five of one, five of the other. The virus and the cure."

He looked at her, his face ashen, "I didn't find out which was which. God, Kory, I've failed you." "No, you haven't. Dick..." She stretched as far forward as she could, the metal chains that held her keeping him just out of reach. She longed to touch his soft hair, his pale face, to hold him in her arms and make everything all right. "Give them to me. Then go get our child."

"Kory, I can't leave you. Not when I've just found you." He glanced at the intricate lock located on the nearby wall, his mind racing. "I can have you out of here in a few minutes."

She fixed him with her emerald eyes, a sad smile on her lips. Her voice was firm. "No, Dick. There is no time. You have to save our child first. Who knows what Ahmuhd might be planning? Nightstar is young, at the beginning of her life. I have had a wonderful life, already. If the goddess sees fit to give me another chance, I will survive." She reached towards him again, her hand open. "I will wait and then I will choose." Dick's face lost what little color it had left. It was almost more than he could bear, to leave her like this. He swallowed hard and made his decision. "Will you wait till I come back?"

"If I can."

They stared at each other for a moment and then he handed her one of each of the vials. As her fingers found them in the dim light, they brushed his and closed around both his warm flesh and the cold glass. "I love you, Dick. I didn't get a chance to tell you the last time ...a chance to say goodbye."

"Kory, I - "

"Don't say anything, just go. Go now! One way or the other I will be here when you get back."

He hesitated, holding her hand, afraid to let go. Afraid it would be forever this time. And then he pulled away. Steeling himself he whispered quietly, "I will love you, Kory, until the end of time," and then he was gone.

"Until the end," she echoed, "and beyond."

* * * * * * Some distance away, down a long winding corridor, their child lay bound and gagged. The bracelets which had encircled her delicate wrists were finally gone but in their place were straps of a shining metal that held her fast to some sort of examination table. There were more on her naked feet. When she awoke, she had tried them with no success. Even with her full strength they appeared to be unbreakable. She was trapped. Infuriated, she lifted her head from the shining metal bed and growled, shifting it from side to side to no avail.

"Ah. I see you are awake. Then we can begin."

Nightstar stopped, fighting back tears of frustration and fear. She blinked and for the first time since she had regained consciousness looked at her surroundings. She was in some sort of cave, like her grandpa's, but instead of the comfortable darkness she was accustomed to full of screeching bats and other night creatures, the walls of this gigantic cavern were ablaze with light. All around her red, gold and orange light flickered, licking at the stalactites on the ceiling, casting bizarre shadows that seemed to move with a will of their own. And it stank. Once when she was a really little girl her Dad had taken her to Gotham. It had been extremely hot and they had had to wait near the wharf for a boat to come in. On the river, great barges full of refuse had passed by, odorous and rank. It reminded her of that, only worse. Here it smelled like somebody had unsuccessfully tried to mask the odor with something sweet, only making matters worse.

The figure who had spoken put down whatever it had had in its hands and turned, walking to her side. Her green eyes went wide as she saw who it was, not only the man who had stunned her mother outside in the compound, but the demon from her childhood dreams come to life.

His ruby eyes fastened on her and she could hear the wicked smile behind the false face. "Yes, little one. You remember me. That is, the person I was ten years ago when you were just a child."

She wanted to speak, to scream, but the gag prevented it. "In time," he said, laying his hand on her exposed arm, "in time.

"The very first time we met, I did not wear this face." His fingers indicated the ebon mask. "I was a valued worker, lost in the vast maze that was Wayne Enterprises. I saw you when your father brought you to tour the research facility where I worked, just after I had been contacted by the Demon's Head and asked to work for him. Ra's promised much: wealth, favor... Things which meant little to your adopted family, but much to me." He paused, as though lost in thought and then continued. "He spoke to me, Ra's al Ghul did, and explained about Mr. Wayne's other life and the sins of his surrogate son. At the time I remember thinking what an abomination you were. Then and there I determined that something had to be done. "Sometime later, as ancient languages and viral research were my specialties, I was asked by your grandfather's greatest enemy to decipher the plague wheel. I argued at the time that he was intent on destroying the wrong enemy, but finally kept silent for fear of my life. Ra's cared not who he killed to bring about his green Utopia. That was wrong. We have been given this knowledge to protect mankind ...we are to guide, not destroy.

"So, in secret, while Ra's pursued his own ends, I pursued mine. I began to build my own empire, employing or bribing many who worked for Wayne, men who like me resented the presence of aliens on our world and Mr. Wayne's tolerant attitude toward them. Soon, carefully... secretly... I began to experiment. You were my test case. I had access to you through your grandfather's disgruntled employees and one day I infected you with a mild form of the virus I was working on. You became ill. It made you vulnerable to human diseases. Then, I personally introduced you to one of my own." He caressed her face, fingering her long jet black hair. "At the time I thought it a pity you did not die. Now, I know the gods blessed me. After my first death, it all became clear. Clear as crystal." Nightstar squirmed. She felt violated. She shook her head trying to dislodge his hand and glared at him, unable to express her distaste. He stared at her and then suddenly and without warning his hand moved and he ripped the gag off, leaving her skin stinging.

She gasped. "You murderer! You're the one responsible. You killed my mother! Bastard!"

Siddig al Ahmuhd, known as the Demon's Hand turned toward her, ruby eyes aglow. Patiently he waited for her to fall silent and then pressing her cheeks with his fingers, replied, "Not yet."

* * * * * * "Nightstar!" The girl's father pivoted at the sound of her voice. It had come from down the corridor where the scent of sulfur was almost overwhelming. A grim smile lit his handsome face as he turned that way. At least he knew she was alive!

Empowered, terrified, determined, he headed for his child.

* * * * * * "I will indeed be the cause of her death, but as you know, she still lives. That was another blessing. The two of you have provided me with the means to achieve my goals."

Nightstar shook her head. "I would never help you," she spat.

"Not willingly, no." The man in the mask walked away, only to return with a small vial in his hand coded blue. "This is the virus which stopped your mother's heart ten years ago. I have drawn it from her blood and cultured it. With it I will decimate the alien population of this planet. This," he continued, raising another vial with a green label, "is the cure, taken from your blood. You who survived. You, who are part human."

"What do you want a cure for? I thought you wanted us all dead!"

"That is what I wished before." He paused, his voice growing strangely quiet and distant. "Before I died. Before my eyes were opened."

The girl growled, doing a good imitation of her mother enraged. "You look more than alive enough to me. Sorry to say."

"I have been reborn," he stated curtly, returning from wherever his thoughts had taken him. "Shortly after my abortive attempt to kill you and your mother's 'death', my master found out I had betrayed him ...so to speak. It seems your 'family' was a pet project of his and I had interfered where interference would not be brooked. He cut off my hands and left me to bleed to death."

Nightstar turned her head, noting the heavy gloves he wore.

"Artificial limbs. I still owe Mr. Wayne a debt for these." He laughed, wriggling his false fingers. "My men found me and brought me here. As Ra's right hand I was privy to much, including the location of the pits. I was reborn. Unfortunately, the Demon discovered what we were about. All of my men were killed. I alone escaped. In the intervening years I moved around the world, watching and waiting, finding joy as the rest of the mankind began to see what I had known all along, that the aliens and metahumans among us were a threat. A holocaust waiting to happen. Unfortunately, the conflagration did not do away with all of you. That is why we are here, now. It is why I remain alive."

Unseen, Nightwing had stolen into the room. Hugging the deep shadows along the wall he turned his attention to the solitary figure silhouetted against the raging fires of the Lazarus Pit. He had guessed correctly. It was here. And later, if it must be used, then he thanked God or fate or whoever had placed it here at this time and in this place. Shivering, he held still, catching his daughter's voice. From where he was he couldn't see her, but it was reassuring just to hear her speak, to know she was alive.

"So you can what? Let loose a plague that will kill hundreds of innocent people? Thousands?"

Ahmuhd paused. "Not innocent. Not people."

He raised the blue vial, holding it so the light of the pit crackled in its sapphire heart. "Every alien on this planet will either die or bow to my will. Those who are willing to become my agents, to turn on their own and ferret them out will live, but they will not be the same. Within the matrix of this liquid, this cure, is the stuff of which dreams are made of."

"Huh?' Nightstar tried to shift. Her back hurt and her nose was itching, but she knew those were the least of her worries. "What are you talking about? You're crazy."

"Am I? Indeed." The soft-spoken man rounded the table she was strapped too, placing his back to Nightwing who braced himself for what was about to come. It didn't sound good. "Since I have been here, I have found the key to the madness that infects the host as it arises from the Pit, and I have found a way to harness it, to make it's power work for me, and to control those whom I have infected."

Dick's heart plummeted. "Kory," he whispered, 'no..." For a second he thought of turning back, of warning her, but Ahmuhd's next words forced him to stay, committing his wife to the hands of fate. "The men who work for me were my human guinea pigs. You, my dear, will be my first hybrid."

He had to save his child.

* * * * * * Bruce and Ibn worked their way down the long narrow corridors of the prison, seeking a way out. Ibn had been here before, as a boy, but he had always preferred the beautiful oasis and the open air above to the fetid atmosphere of the cells and the pathway to the Pit. Some memory remained of their layout, but it was dim and as he helped the wounded Batman down the hallway, he found his mind wandering to other things. He was frightened for Nightstar. And for his father. The older man was on his feet and they had managed to salvage his cape and cowl as well as most of the breastplate of the suit, but other than that it had suddenly struck him how incredibly human the great Batman actually was. How easily he could die like any other man.

"Are you all right?" he asked suddenly, voicing his concern. "Your wound is still bleeding."

"I've had worse."

"Perhaps we should stop - "

"Quit, you mean?" the older man's voice was harsh.

"No. Just rest. It took a lot out of you just to break the code on the lock back there in the cell and force the door open. We have been on the move for quite a while, I thought - "

"Don't. It's a waste of time."

Ibn bristled at his tone but excused it instantly. The man was pushing beyond his limits as he had always done and he expected nothing less from his son.

A moment later Bruce Wayne asked, "Do you know where we are?"

"At the back of the cell block, I believe. Near the Pit." The dark-eyed young man hesitated, experiencing an old fear. "God, I hate this place."

The Batman's laugh was dark. "I think God would hate this place too."

Leaning on one another they continued to move forward. Once the older man stumbled, but he righted himself instantly and moved on. After that Ibn trailed a step or two behind him, lost in wonder. Moments later they rounded a corner, but before he could step into the indefinite light, a hand touched his shoulder holding him back.

"There's someone there."

The young man peered over his father's shoulder. Before them was a large cell. At its center lay a silent form. The light that flickered beyond the room gave them a shadowy view at best, but it was obviously female and capped with a head of flaming red hair.

Bruce sucked in a breath. "Koriand'r."

"Nightstar's mother?" Ibn narrowed his eyes. He couldn't tell if she was breathing. "Is she alive?"

The Batman shook his cowled head. "If there is a God..." he breathed almost to himself. Then to Ibn he said, "Come on, let's see."

* * * * * * Ten minutes later they were in the cell. Ibn had watched fascinated as his father first found and then disabled the panel that controlled the wall of steel. At his command it rolled back, revealing the quiescent woman. She was laying on her back, one knee pointed at the sky. One arm was thrust out toward the wall, something clasped in its hand.

"What is it?" Ibn asked, moving to stand next to the cowled man who knelt by her side.

"It's a vial," Bruce answered, taking it from her hand, "and it's empty."

* * * * * * Nightwing hesitated, unsure of what move to make. Ahmuhd was several yards away from him, his back turned, but he was hovering over Nightstar and there was something in his hand that might have been a weapon. Whatever his choice, he didn't want to put her in jeopardy, and yet everything he could think of from jumping the man to stepping out into the light entailed taking some sort of calculated risk. Finally he made a decision. He had to get them apart, even if it meant losing the element of surprise.

"Ahmuhd," he called commandingly, his voice echoing from the vast cavern walls.

"Ah, Mr. Grayson." The tall man seemed unperturbed, as though he had already known he was there. Slowly he turned towards him and Dick saw the object in his hand. It was only a vial, like those in the container. Deadly enough, but nothing he couldn't take out with a well-placed kick - if he could get close enough. "Come to save the day?"

"Just my child," he remarked, stepping into the light. "Let her go."

"Dad, no! Get away!" Nightstar screamed, straining at her bonds, "He hates you! I think even more than he does Mom or me. Get away, now!"

Almost casually, the man who had single-handedly taken from him a decade of his wife's love and affection, not to mention aiding in the alienation of his child, moved toward him. The ruby red eyes in his mask sparked with firelight, flashing as if alive. Ten feet away he stopped and leveled his hand at him. Nightwing was startled to see a slender tube something like the barrel of a gun emerge from the dark glove. Instinctively he knew it was a weapon.

His body tensed. Ready "Let her go."

"No. Neither of you will leave here alive."

He had taken a risk and he had been wrong.

Like a bolt of lightning, electricity leapt from Ahmuhd's fingertips towards Nightwing's chest.

* * * * * * Ibn waited in silence. Bruce had bent to check the alien's heart, to see if it was still beating. As he did, his son looked past him to the face of this woman who had given birth to the one he knew he was coming to love. She was beautiful. Even unconscious, soiled by dirt and sweat, she was radiant. There was about her something that reminded him of the sort of women described in the idylls of ancient lands. Women kingdoms were won and lost over. The kind men willingly gave their lives for. He could see why Richard Grayson had fallen under her spell.

She was much like her child.

"Well?" he asked at last.

His father hesitated a moment longer and then slowly raised his head. "Odd. Her heart is racing but she has no fever anymore. I don't - "

Without warning, Koriand'r's eyes flew open and she began to rise. Bruce pulled back from her, a concerned look on his face. He opened his mouth and spoke to her, "Koriand'r? Princess?" Uncertain, Ibn followed him, backing away until he could feel the wall of the cell brush his skin. "What is it? Batman?"

"I'm not sure," he fingered the green vial he had picked up off of the ground, "she's taken something. Someone... Dick must have been here."

At the mention of her husband's name, Nightwing's wife turned her eyes towards them. The son of the Bat gasped. He had not expected her visage to be so savage. Her eyes, so like her daughter's were wide and wild; green, glowing, almost demonic. She stared at them without seeing them and began to moan.

"Stay still, Ibn. I don't think she even knows we're here." Bruce stepped in front of his son and lifted a hand toward her. "Princess Koriand'r," he called loud and clear, "can you here me? Do you know where you are?"

The woman narrowed her eyes and crouched, straining at her bonds. She began to exert power and soon the room was blazing scarlet as her fingertips and then her hands began to glow. Seconds later a loud rushing was followed by a deafening roar as chains and earth exploded upward.

"Ibn, get down! Cover your head!" The Batman grabbed his son and dove for the what meager shelter the cell had to over, which was not much. Crouching in the corner, he placed his body with its battered armor over the young man and hugged the wall.

Behind him Koriand'r exulted in the release of energy held in check all too long. Even though her mind was clouded, she knew she had been bound and that now she was free. Such triumph! Such joy! Her body aglow, she gathered even more energy, pointing both hands at the wall before her, obliterating it.. Bruce's white head came up moments later as the newest hail of stones ended. He glanced in her direction and then checked his son. She was standing still now, her hands still pulsing red, as if listening to someone's voice.

"Are you all right, son?"

Ibn looked at him and nodded. He was bleeding from several small cuts, but otherwise just shaken. "What has happened?" He swallowed hard, choking on the dust. "Was she always like this?"

In spite of the danger, Bruce found himself smiling. "That," he said as he stood up, "is a matter up for debate."

The young man looked at the alien, noting her silence. "What is she doing now?"

Bruce shook his head. "I don't know." He turned to her and tried once again, "Princess, are you - "

Before the words could leave his mouth she rose from the floor and like an arrow shot from a bow flew into the corridor, her long red hair turning into a stream of fire that trailed behind her, continuing to light the desolated cell long after she was gone.

The Batman wiped blood from his own face and held his shoulder where a piece of sharp metal had penetrated the broken suit, piercing his skin.

"I guess not."

* * * * * * Nightwing instantly leapt sideways narrowly avoiding the bolt of white light which flew from Ahmuhd's adapted hand. Then he somersaulted several times managing to land less than a yard from the table that held his child.

"Dad?"

"Hang on, Princess! I won't let him hurt you." He moved quickly, laying his hands on the side of the metal table, ready to thrust her out of the way.

Across the wide arena Ahmuhd raised his hand again, pointing it at the pair, but at that moment a rushing sound drew his attention as well as theirs. Looking past the man with the demon's head, father and daughter saw a familiar sight, a reddish glow advancing towards them steadily that lit the ribs of the tunnel. A second later Koriand'r, Princess of Tamaran, came flying into the cavern starbolts ablaze. "Go, Mom!" Nightstar cried as her father took advantage of the momentary distraction to sever her bonds, freeing her. Keeping an eye on his advancing wife, somehow sensing something was wrong, he hugged his child and pointed her toward a small shelter of rock that lay nearby.

"Get down! Protect yourself!" he cried as he pushed her in its general direction.

"Dad! I can take care of myself. You don't have to -"

"Now!"

She stared at him but didn't argue. A second later she was crouched down, peering around the rough hewn rock, watching her dad as he moved to the opposite side of the room to confront Ahmuhd. The other man for his part remained relatively calm. He continued to stare at the alien invader with a curious expression on the face beneath the mask, as if he had some secret knowledge that kept him from fearing her even as the ferocious blasts she leveled at the cavern floor came closer and closer to him. He waited a moment and then he shouted something. Nightwing couldn't hear what it was for the sound of rock cracking and shattering all around him. As one good size boulder barely missed him, he darted sideways, inadvertently putting more distance between him and his child.

Then, suddenly, it was silent.

Glancing up, he found Koriand'r standing straight and tall beside Siddig al Ahmuhd, her hands still glowing. Her great emerald eyes were expressionless and when they fixed on him, there was no recognition in them.

The demon was laughing.

"I see you found the antidote, my dear. Good. Good. You have done my work for me."

Dick swallowed, all too afraid he understood exactly what the Ahmuhd meant. "Kory?" he whispered, "can you hear me?"

Behind him he heard Nightstar call, "Mom?"

"Stay back," he lifted his hand, signaling her. She was standing beside the rocky shelter. "Your mother is under his control."

"She is that," their captor spoke softly. "I have harnessed the power of the pit and made it bend to my will. All who get the antidote will be as this," he pointed at Kory, golden and glowing, "powerful, savage and completely under my control."

Nightwing backed a step away, watching her warily. "Kory, you can beat this. You know you can! Kory..."

"She doesn't hear you. Only me. She is my creature now. Princess..."

Koriand'r turned toward him. She took several steps forward like a sleep-walker. Her hands pulsed with unleashed power.

"Kill him."

* * * * * * Bruce and Ibn were only minutes behind her. Weak, injured, battered and bleeding, they couldn't move with anything close to her speed. The older man had taken a strip of cloth and bound his shoulder, but he was still bleeding steadily and his son had to support him. The injury was not life threatening - at least not yet - but it prevented them from moving with any speed...

Finally, leaning against the tunnel wall, his head spinning, the Batman said, "You go on without me. I'll come as I can."

"No. Father, I won't leave you - "

"Then help me." His voice was grim, his blue eyes tearing.

"How?" Ibn came to his side. "How?"

"Help them."

* * * * * * "Mom! No!"

Nightstar had flown frantically from her hiding place, her own hands blazing with lavender-purple power. But she was too late. She watched in horror as her mother lowered her arms, pointing them at her father and screamed as the lethal energy flowing from them struck him with deadly force, propelling him backwards, slamming his battered form into an outcropping of rock. As she managed to drop inbetween them, she saw him shift once, attempting to stand, before falling to the ground and laying still.

"Mom! Listen to me! Don't you know me? You have to stop! Mom!"

Koriand'r looked at her and for just a moment her eyes seemed to clear, but then Ahmuhd called from behind her again. "Finish him! I command it! It is my will! Kill him now!"

The princess turned and looked at him and then looked at the small girl before her, hesitating. Nightstar met her eyes, defiant. "Mom! It's me. Nightstar."

"Kill him! Kill them both!"

Her hands began to pulse again. Slowly she raised one of them and pointed it at the body of the man who lay still behind his child, blood slowly pooling beneath the tattered and torn blue and black outfit.

"Mom, please..." Nightstar shifted, blocking her path.

"Nightstar!" a new voice cried out suddenly.

"Ibn, look out! She's crazy! I think she killed Dad!"

From the other side of the room the young man's voice had come, breaking Ahmuhd's concentration. The man who wore the mask turned and raised his hand toward him, letting loose with a blast of his hidden weapon. Ibn leapt to the side and rolled to his feet, charging before the other man could repeat the action - or so he hoped. As he ran, he pulled a small pistol from his pocket and leveled it at the other man's chest. "Drop it now or I will shoot."

"Koriand'r!"

"No, Mom, no!" Nightstar glanced from her father's still body to Ibn horrified. "Ibn, run! She's under his control. She'll kill you!" Leaping into the air the young woman flew towards her mother slamming into her body at full force. The older woman went down, their power trails mingling in a blaze of purple and red. In the doorway Bruce Wayne hesitated. Weak and light-headed he knew he would be little help in the battle. Careful to avoid flying rocks and starbolts he began to circle his way around the room towards his fallen child.

Ahmuhd was fuming, his voice pitched high as he screamed for the Tamaranean to get up and do his will. Ibn stood a few yards away from him, his hand steady on the gun, his face ashen.

"Ahmuhd, in the name of the one whom you revered so many years ago. In my grandfather's name I call upon you to surrender. End this now or I will."

The tall man turned on him, ruby eyes blazing in the black mask. "I cannot die. You know that. I will live forever, just as you could have. You can still join me, child of Al Ghul. With this power," he pointed to Koriand'r where she was just rising and squaring off with her child, "we can rule the world."

"Release her."

"So long as I live, she will never be free, only enthralled."

Ibn hesitated a moment, gazing beyond Ahmuhd to a strong figure brought low by sorrow. His lips curled and his eyes darkened.

"I am sorry, Father," he whispered and then he pulled the trigger.

Ahmuhd fell to the ground and lay still, the breath and life gone from him.

* * * * * * Nightstar rested on her hands and her feet straddling her mother. With Ahmuhd's death Koriand'r had fallen silent. Power still rushed through her but it was lessening as her eyes cleared and her breathing evened. She blinked several times and breathed deep, finally seeing her child before her.

"Nightstar?" she whispered.

The girl was weeping openly, her eyes red and raw.

Something was dreadfully wrong.

"Nightstar..." Koriand'r paused, looking back toward the opening into the tunnel, past Ibn to the man who lay silent at his feet. The dead man's voice whispered still in her head, causing her blood to race; her heart to pound. She vaguely remembered awaking feeling well, really well for the first time in so long. Then she recalled rising in the cell and hearing his voice, Ahmuhd's voice bidding her come, calling her to him. And then -

"X'Hal!" she cried, "Dick!"

"Mom, he's..." Nightstar choked, unable to think or say it. "You hurt him..."

Koriand'r shifted, moving her child aside. She stood and walked deliberately towards the tableau that confronted her. An old man sat, weary beyond his years, cradling the broken and bleeding body of his child. She stopped several feet away, her heartbeat crashing in her ears; her breath coming faster and faster. Her head spun so she thought she might go mad.

Bruce lifted his eyes, meeting hers. There was no condemnation in them, only deep and indescribable loss.

"He's dead," he whispered, moving aside a lock of the jet black hair. "His body simply couldn't take it. He's been through ...too much." His hand went out towards her, knowing something of how she felt. Hadn't he blamed himself so many years, for his parents...for Jason... "Koriand'r?"

A deep growl had begun in her throat. Quickly it built into a cry that shook the very foundations of the cavern they stood within. And then from her hands power began to pour unbidden, seeking release. She raised her hands high over her head, pointing them and her starbolts at the ceiling, shrieking, "NO!"

Amidst the remnants of pulverized rock and debris that rained down upon them, she fell to her knees sobbing. Seconds later a hand rested on her shoulder. She didn't look up but the Batman did. His other son was watching him and when he spoke, it was with deliberation, weighing each word.

"There is still the Pit."

Chapter Seven: Rebirth Koriand'r stood alone at the edge of the Lazarus Pit staring into the seething, boiling lake of fire that had consumed her husband's broken body. The fierce heat that struck her golden skin could have - at another time, in another place - almost seemed comforting, a reminder of a lush verdant home left behind long ago. But the flames that accompanied it, licking the cavern walls like a ravenous beast, were blinding and the stench produced as the baneful liquids collided and combusted almost more than one could bear. In spite this, she found herself drawing a deep breath. With resolve, she stepped back, removing her bare foot from the first of a dozen slick steps carved from solid rock which led down to the roughly rectangular pool. It had been close. Sheer strength of will had kept her from leaping after him into the roiling cauldron of chemicals and poisons as she saw his precious face vanish beneath the red and orange waves.

Dick was dead.

She was alive, and he was dead.

She closed her emerald eyes and counted off the seconds which seemed to be mounting with swift wings into long minutes. How much time could it take? She glanced back toward the entrance to the cave, half expecting to find Ibn and Bruce standing there with alongside Nightstar despite her expressed desire to be left alone with her husband at this time. But they were not there. Not even their furtive shadows flitted half-masked across the cavern walls. They had taken her at her word and so she was alone. Glancing at the Pit where the bubbles seemed to be breathe and die with a life of their own, she wondered if it would always be that way.

Dick was dead.

Sighing, she cast her mind back what seemed an eternity but was in fact less than fifteen minutes. Time had seemed to stand still. Breath had ceased. Her heart no longer beating for the pain.

Dick was dead...

* * * * * * "NO!!! Nooooo..."

Koriand'r's voice trailed off as nearby the Batman's son drew a harsh shuddering breath and cast his eyes at the Lazarus Pit. It called to him silently, offering a solution -salvation in fact- but at what cost? It had brought his grandfather back untold times, but it had also pointed the way to a life that ended in self-centered madness. The deadly toxins churning before him were a special brew; death to those who lived - as his maternal grandmother had found out- but life for those dying or just dead. He glanced at the man on the ground, broken and bloodied, cradled in his father's arms. This man was more than a brother to him, he knew that now. He was... a friend... Could he let him die when the knowledge to save him lay within his grasp? And yet Dick had decried the notion of entering the Pit just as he , Ibn, had rejected it. He had said he would not choose it for himself. Still, he couldn't answer for what he would do if a loved one had died. If it had been Bruce or Nightstar, even Ibn himself, would the other man have waited? Could he have turned away? He thought not.

Ibn Al Xu'ffasch looked around, seeking Nightstar. The black-haired beauty was in shock, her skin white as her father's, her great green eyes wide as the ocean turbulent and tempest-tossed. He turned to stare at her mother where she knelt beating the hard floor of the cavern over and over with fists of rage and frustration. He agreed. It wasn't fair. But then life seldom was.

Still...

Moving forward, he cautiously laid a hand on the alien's shoulder, his eyes seeking his father's. His fingers trembled as they touched her warm flesh and he felt a hole open in his stomach, a pit seemingly as large and as deep as the one that loomed giant before them all.

"There is still the Pit," he said matter-of-factly.

Nightstar's mother turned to stare at him, comprehension slowly dawning in her eyes. Several feet away the Batman stood, carefully laying his son's head against the warmed rock after brushing the cold forehead with his lips. Bent and bowed he walked toward them, his hands covered in blood.

"No," was all he said.

"Bruce," Ibn protested, "it does not have to mean madness. That is only temporary, at least at first."

His father shook his head. "I know what it means. I've felt the Pit's embrace, I'm sure Ra's told you, and am here - sane or not. Much as I want him back...." His voice broke and tears spilled unrestrained from his pale blue eyes, "...you know what he said."

Ibn's eyebrows rose. That conversation had been private, when his father had been sleeping in another room on the Batwing.

"How...?" the young man began.

Bruce smiled grimly. "One thing you'll learn, boy, I never sleep."

Behind the trio Nightwing's daughter seemed to awaken from her trance. Her full lips parted and words fell from them, rapid, like bullets from a barrel. "What are you fighting about? What do you mean? What is this Pit? This thing.?" She gestured toward the fiery bath and then her eyes returned to her grandfather. "Grandpa, tell me. Is Dad ...dead, or can you... can Ibn bring him back? What are you talking about? "

"We are talking about the road to madness, Nightstar." Bruce crossed his arms in judgment. "A road your father chose not to walk. He knew the risks when he came after you and your mother. We all did."

The young woman stared hard at him as though she were seeing him for the first time and could not quite believe her eyes. Her jaw tightened as a sudden flare-up of the crackling flames behind them highlighted the silent figure that lay not far away. She had tried to avoid it, but now it drew her attention and the anger in her melted before the harsh reality of inconceivable loss. Her eyes teared as she moved forward whimpering, "Daddy..."

Koriand'r rose, firmly blocking her child's path. "No. Don't look."

"Mom? What?" She glared at her mother and grandfather and then rounded on Ibn. "What is this thing? I've heard of it before, but Dad was never specific." She dried her eyes and demanded an answer. "It has to do with your grandfather, right? The one they called the 'Demon's Head'?"

"My grandfather was once a great man, called a despot by many, but strong, keen and able nonetheless. His life ended as all lives must, but he refused to die. The hand of fate was kind to him, granting this ...request, and soon through the Pit and use of its restorative powers, he lived again. He was reborn, stronger, rejuvenated..."

"And quite mad. Many have regretted that kind hand's intervention," Bruce interrupted, his face a portrait in agony.

"No," his son shook his dark locks, "not the first time. There was a brief period of madness but he recovered with no ill effects. There is no proof that the Pit causes madness unless the one who is reborn brings it to the bath himself..."

"You've never experienced it." The blue eyes were steel. "I have. I wouldn't choose to go back."

"Not even to heal your broken body?," the young man protested. " Not even to give Gotham's guardian a new lease on life, to live to fight another hundred years?" He gestured to Bruce, raising his hands, " You are not mad."

The Batman smiled grimly. "That - according to some - is debatable."

Ibn was taken aback. He fell silent. Behind him Nightstar abruptly put two and two together and realized what it was they were hesitating to do. Infuriated, she whirled on them, her soft voice strident and slightly crazed. "You mean if I put Dad in there, he would come out alive? Then what the Hell are you waiting for! Mom! Tell them!"

Koriand'r looked at her but her face was a mask, unreadable. Her eyes were locked on the fallen frame of her husband and she didn't answer.

"Mom?" Nightstar blinked away tears and without preamble, began to rise into the air. "What is wrong with all of you? If you won't do it, I sure as Hell will!" A blaze of lavender light began to encase her, trailing from her long silken hair and slender hands stretched out toward her father's corpse, ten long years of longing and guilt, shame and pain brought together in one word. "Daddy!"

"Nightstar," Ibn cried, reaching for her, "I will help him. I know how. But you must wait! There are things to be done. He must be prepared."

"Ibn," Bruce laid his hand on his son's shoulder. "You have to respect his wishes."

The young man's dark eyes met his. "If you heard the entire conversation back there on the plane, then you know I am, father. I am."

"No, this is taking too long," the girl wailed, beginning to move.

"Nightstar, please! I will..."

"No." A firm voice spoke startling the girl so she halted in her flight. Both men turned and looked to see a regal figure, the princess of Tamaran cradling her husband's broken form against her bosom, his blood mixing with her tears. She had moved to his side while they debated and lifted him from the earth. "I will do it. It is my place. And I will do it alone."

Bruce took a step near her, a lump forming in his throat as Dick's limp hand swung loose at her side. "Koriand'r, you don't understand..."

"No. You don't, old man. I have already lost ten years of my life. Lost ten years with my child and with my husband, ten years that should have been mine. I will not give him over to death if there is another way."

"It was not his choice," Bruce protested meekly.

She sighed and raised her head.

"It is mine."

* * * * * * Minutes later, after Ibn had given her a brief description of the procedure and she had laid her husband's still form on the stretcher that would bear it above and into the rolling, boiling mass, she turned to them and asked them all to leave.

"What? You mean you were serious when you said you would do this alone?" Bruce was the first to voice his confusion. "Why should we leave? By what right do you make us?"

"You said it yourself. When he emerges..." Dear X'Hal, she breathed to herself, let him emerge. "...there will be a period of madness accompanied by amplified and exaggerated strength." She took in the older man, letting him follow her eye as it assessed his condition, passing judgment from the puncture wound in his shoulder which bled still to the battered and broken costume that housed and inadequately protected his frail human form. "You are in no condition to deal with that. Besides," she met his eyes, knowing he knew she spoke the truth, "he would not want you to see him that way. You know that."

The older man's face flushed, showing anger. "I have witnessed more than my share of madness. He is my son. If you choose to do this, I want to be here."

"All the more reason you should not be." Koriand'r met his eyes, her own pleading silently. "You say you remember what it was like when you emerged from the Pit? Answer me this then, would you have wanted him there?"

Blue eyes blinked. He couldn't lie. "No. But that doesn't mean..."

"Honor my request. Honor his memory."

"What if he is stronger than you think? What if you can't handle him alone?" Bruce's voice fell, "Or what if the madness doesn't end...?"

She glanced at the silent figure on the stretcher, pale hands folded over a still chest. "He will not harm me. I know him."

"But will he know you?"

She frowned and swallowed hard. "That is a chance I am willing to take." She turned and met her daughter's eyes which were locked on her father's form and filled with tears. "Nightstar, take you grandfather and leave."

"Mom... I don't want to go..."

Koriand'r smiled sadly. "I know." She placed her hand on the girl's cheek and whispered, "But this is not for you. Take your young man and the old stubborn one and go."

Ibn watched her closely, uncertain. "Are you sure you can manage? The process is not overly complicated, but I would be willing..."

"I will be fine, Ibn. Dick..." she glanced at the quiet form, "...will be fine. When you return he will be as he was. Now go. Do as I ask."

Ibn Al Xu'ffasch looked at Dick Grayson's daughter and saw her tremble. As she asked? More as she commanded. He put his arms about Nightstar and began to draw her away. She hesitated a moment, turning a pleading face towards her mother, this woman she had known so long ago and yet, seemed not to know at all. Koriand'r shook her head. "Promise me you will not return."

"Mom..."

"Promise."

Nightstar nodded reluctantly and let Ibn lead her out, but as she walked her eyes remained fixed on her father's silent shape and the fire that raged behind it.

Bruce followed slowly, limping. As weighted chains he felt each of the days he had passed on this earth, each brutally hard year bearing down on him with each step he took away from the Pit and his first 'son'. It was not often he recognized or accepted that something was 'out of his hands', but this time he was thankful. Dick would live. Honor be damned.

Ibn stood by the entrance waiting patiently for him. Nightstar was already in the tunnel. "If it is any consolation, father, I believe the Pit reflects much of what the man who uses it has brought with him. My grandfather was a man possessed. Over time that which possessed him drove him mad. Dick has no such compulsions. He is a good man..."

Bruce sighed, rubbing a filthy hand over his eyes and then braced it against the stone wall of the cave. He stared at Ibn as though he meant to say something, but then changed his mind. Instead he whispered softly, "The best you have ever - or will ever- know." At the doorway he turned, unable to stop staring at the pair silhouetted against the umbrous flames. "Koriand'r," he called softly, his voice nonetheless carrying across the giant chamber, "take care of him."

"I will." Her tone was firm, resolute. "There is no way I would not." She turned away to place her hand on the winch that would begin the process of lowering the stretcher into the churning mass of flaming liquid, but then at the last moment called softly after him, "Thank you, Bruce."

He stopped. "For what?"

She laughed, a low warm sound and pivoted to meet the troubled stare. "For everything. For my life. For this."

The gray haired man nodded curtly and then with his shoulders held high, walked stiffly from the room.

* * * * * * The golden woman gasped. A hand was rising from the bubbling churning liquid. One, and then another. Soon a dark head capped above the waves and her husband rose reborn, the remnants of his blue and black costume slick against his glowing skin, raven hair plastered to cheeks that blossomed once again, pink and healthy. Silently he moved toward her, his booted foot striking the first of the twelve rock steps that would bring him to her side.

Koriand'r smiled, her green eyes aglow with gratitude. "Thank X'Hal!" she breathed, stepping forward and reaching out to him, "Dick. My love..."

And then she saw his eyes.

A stranger's eyes.

He stared at her, not through her, but at her with such raw hatred that she drew back as though struck. Her foot hit a loose stone, cast there by the destruction of the ceiling, and she lost her balance, tipping sideways just as he lunged at her, his hands aiming for her throat.

"Dick! It's me, Kory! Dick! Don't you know me?"

He rounded on her, fixing his cold blue eyes on her face with no recognition. His top lip curled back and a low guttural voice, barely recognizable as his uttered the words, "Where is my wife, you she-devil? What have you done with her? You will tell me or you will die!"

Koriand'r slid back along the stone floor, seeking to regain her footing. Her hand contacted the top step of the Pit and she hesitated. Ibn had said it would mean death to those living. Did that include one newly raised from its fiery womb? She couldn't chance having him jump her again. He might over-reach and fall back into its deadly embrace. Drawing a breath she spoke calmly, her voice more level than she thought possible.

"Dick. I am you wife. I am Koriand'r. Dick, don't you know me?" Tears kissed the corners of her eyes as she looked at him. So close... And yet so far away. "Dick?"

Crystal clear blue eyes narrowed as he approached her, powerful hands clasping and unclasping, his chest heaving so the final bits of the liquid from the Pit streamed over the flesh, making it glisten. "I know who you are. I have been plagued by your presence in my mind," his hand went from his head to his chest and his whole being seemed to breathe deep, "in my heart and in my dreams. You are a false vision, a ghost without substance..." He swayed a bit losing focus. "Something conjured up by one of my enemies or ...by my own grief to drive me mad."

"You are not mad. It is me, really me. I am here." She shifted and made a motion to rise, "Dick, I'm alive."

"My wife is dead." The words were cold...empty ...hopeless. Apparently the Pit had not driven him mad but senseless.

"No, I'm not. Don't you remember? Bruce kept me alive. He used Mr. Freeze's equations. He saved me."

The man before her seemed to pause, uncertain. "Bruce..."

"Yes, Bruce. Think, Dick. Think! Before we could see each other Nightstar and I were kidnapped. You came here with Bruce and Ibn. Dick..." Koriand'r rose up on her knees, her arms outstretched, "I've missed you so."

As she spoke, he began to circle her, regarding her warily. She pivoted with him, following his form with a raw hunger in her eyes. Tears kissed her cheeks and she began to cry.

"Dick, it is me!"

Without warning he moved and struck like lightning, catching her slender neck between his strong hands, pressing so tight she could hardly speak... barely breathe. His eyes met hers, the gaze so intense it made her look away. His fingers tightened as she did and he repeated unseeing, unhearing, "My wife is dead." "No," she squeaked, "no..." She could feel the power within her welling up, instinct overcoming thought as she began to black out. Her hands had begun to glow scarlet, preparing to unleash their power when suddenly the image of her starbolt blasting her husband's frail form into the cavern wall filled her eyes and she knew that before she would do that again, she would die.

"Dick," she whispered softly, "...good-bye. I... love you."

* * * * * * Outside in the tunnel Bruce paced like a panther caged.

"It has been too long."

"No," Ibn answered, "it has not."

"It's too quiet." Nightstar added, striking the rock wall with her fist so that pebbles flew.

"Quiet can be good."

"I shouldn't have left them alone." The man who was the Batman turned back towards the entrance to the cave. "If something happens, I will be responsible."

"No one is responsible for another's actions," his son corrected. "Koriand'r chose -"

"Koriand'r was wrong. I'm going back."

Nightstar stood beside her grandfather, her head high. "So am I."

"No, you're not," her grandfather challenged her, touching her shoulder, "it isn't safe for a child..."

"But it is for an old man?" Her green eyes flared as she shook off his hand and her own began to glow lavender. She rose into the air. "You try to stop me."

"Nightstar!"

Ibn looked from one to the other and took a step back. "You are both formidable opponents. I can say nothing to hold you back but this one thing..."

Bruce's jaw locked and Nightstar hesitated.

"You promised."

Grandfather and granddaughter looked at each other and then down the long corridor towards the place where the unknown drama was unfolding without them. Slowly the girl lowered herself to the floor and crossing to him laid her head on his shoulder. Bruce reached up and caressed the long dark hair softly.

"Damn."

* * * * * * Slowly Koriand'r opened her eyes. Her breathing was uneven but unobstructed. Above her, her husband's tear-streaked face loomed large. Ever so gently his hand was brushing her cheek and he was whispering her name.

Blinking she asked softy, "Am I dreaming?"

"Kory, honey, no..." Dick Grayson paused, nearly unable to continue. "Kory, I... I'm sorry."

Shifting, leaning into his strength as he held her, the Tamaranean clasped his hand in hers, holding it tight. "Sorry?"

"God, Kory, look at your neck." His fingers caressed the brown-red bruises there. "I could have..."

"Shhh. Be quiet." She swallowed, regaining strength in her voice. "None of that matters now." Her eyes fastened on his face, his precious face. He was alive! "Just hold me."

He met her eyes and planted a soft kiss on her brow before crushing her to him, his arms finding at last the answer to the ache that had plagued them for ten long years. "Kory," he whispered, "Kory, you're real..."

Tears spilled from his cheeks. Unashamed he sobbed, holding her tighter. "Kory..."

She held him, waiting for the tempest to pass, her own tears silent ones of joy.

A moment later he rocked back on his heels and sat just looking at her. She smiled at him and then frowned, the edges of her mouth turning downward slightly. He glanced behind himself, puzzled, and then turned back to meet her disarming stare.

"What? What is it?"

She reached out and touched his temples, smiling. "They'll think I'm robbing the cradle."

He shook his head and liquid flew from it, striking the ground and dappling it. "What are you talking about?"

Taking his hand she stood, "Nevermind. I'm so selfish. There are others here waiting for you."

She slipped her arm about his waist and squeezed him, "Come on. I have a little girl who needs her daddy to take her home."

Epilogue Koriand'r stood quite still, her golden finger tracing the lettering on the marble and granite monument. A single rose lay at her feet, a remembrance of things past... Of loved ones she would never see again. Of voices she would never hear. Hands she would never take.

* * * * * * Her husband watched her from several yards away, concern etched into his handsome features. After mopping up what remained of Ahmuhd's organization they had returned to the States. Bruce had been strangely quiet, returning to Gotham, seemingly worried that his absence had left his precious city undefended. Ibn had journeyed here...with them... to Kansas, to the memorial raised in honor of those who had died in battle on a small indiscriminate wheat field not so long ago. He and Bruce had not spoken on the trip back. Ibn had killed Ahmuhd. Broken the code. Dick sighed. That was a matter for another day.

Now he was worried about his wife. She had taken the news hard. No surprise that. It would be difficult enough waking up with a decade gone, finding a world lost in madness that was only beginning to seek a path to sanity. Harder still to find that madness had claimed many... No, most of those you held dear. He still marveled that they had all escaped. Bruce. Nightstar. Clark. Himself. Once he had felt a deep and profound guilt over that. Now he felt nothing but blessed and thankful.

* * * * * * Donna.

Roy.

Garth.

How many others? Koriand'r sighed and wiped tears from her eyes. For each name there inscribed she could envision a face. Remember a moment. Donna at the hospital the night Nightstar was born, weeping, sharing her joy. Roy kidding Dick, giving him a hard time about being a father while looking at Donna longingly as though knowing what he had missed. Recognizing the love and the strength of their family. Roy's child, Lian. Tula...

X'Hal, the children. Her focus shifted and she looked over at her own daughter, laughing quietly, leaning on Ibn's arm. Her child had been spared. There were no words to express how grateful she felt. No words.

A sudden rush of air disturbed her ankle-length locks, reddish waves flowing about her, falling into her eyes. Raising a trembling hand to corral them, she saw a familiar red and blue blur descend from the sky coming to rest near her husband opposite her, on the other side of the vast monument that marked the spot where so many of Earth's bravest and brightest had fallen. A smile lit her face as she watched Diana land a few short feet behind him.

Life went on. Hope endured.

* * * * * * "Clark."

"Dick." Dressed in his Superman uniform, the Kryptonian held his hand out, wondering if the former Teen Titan would take it.

Dick met the light blue eyes and for just a moment a shadow passed over his face - all these years Clark had known, but had never said a word, keeping Bruce's secret - but then he saw a tall figure moving through the obelisk's shadow approaching them and knew any remonstrances belonged in the past. He held out his hand and took the other man's, shaking it.

Gratitude filled the big man's eyes.

"Diana." Dick nodded to the Amazonian princess, acknowledging her presence.

"Nightwing," she answered, her eyebrows arching. "And where is Red Robin?"

He met Clark's eyes as he answered her, "In the past where he belongs, with every other mistake I or someone else has made. You have to move on."

Clark's feet shuffled, the self-conscious gesture of a little boy that endeared him even more to the woman who stood beside him. "I'm sorry I had to leave when I did, Dick. I brought Nightstar to Maine and wanted to stay, but the President..."

"You don't have to explain, Clark. We managed."

"So what happened?" The big man drew his hand back and adjusted the red cape on his shoulders.

"We've had no news. Has Bruce found out anything new about Koriand'r's condition?"

The man dressed as Nightwing smiled broadly, inclining his head. "Why don't you ask her?"

"What? How...?"

Diana pivoted as a shadow fell at their feet, her mouth open. "We've been off planet. We had no idea. My dear... Her arms opened wide and the tall alien fell into them, her eyes filled with tears.

"Koriand'r. Welcome home."

"Diana, I am so sorry about Donna... I don't know what to say. I can't..."

Diana pressed a finger to her full lips. "Donna lives within you and me. We must honor that. But today is not a day for sadness, but great rejoicing. You were dead, but now you live!"

"Koriand'r..." Clark was staring at her, memories of Lois suddenly striking him like the blows of a fist. Blows that were softened as Diana moved to his side and took his arm. "...it is so good to see you."

"Clark, I'm sorry. Lois..." At a loss for words, the tall alien shook her head. "This is so hard."

The big man let go of Diana's arm and walked over to the young woman gazing deep into her eyes. "Every ending brings a new beginning. You're alive," he said softly as he embraced her, "and for all of us that makes the journey worth while."

Diana drew near the duo, her eyes narrowed. "How is it you look so young, Princess? The years away have been kind to you."

Koriand'r laughed, her fingers subconsciously tracing the pale yellow streaks in her long mane. They were not so visible now that she was revived, but were there nonetheless. "I'm not sure I'd put it exactly that way," the Tamaranean replied, irony in her tone. "Apparently Bruce is more aware of a woman's vanity than he would let on. I only aged when he had me out of the tank."

"And you," Clark swung on Nightwing as he came to his wife's side and with a contented sigh, embraced her. "What is your secret? I seem to remember gray on that black field."

Koriand'r ran her fingers through her husband's jet black hair and gazed into his eyes which were clear and bright. There were no wrinkles of care anymore. No lines to mar the smooth forehead. The Pit - and her return - had erased them all. Overwhelmed with joy she reached out and caught his chin, pulling him into an embrace, kissing him deeply.

"Will you two stop it already!" a young voice called out touched with merriment, "you're embarrassing me." Nightstar stood not far from the group, her hand still in Ibn's. "I keep telling you that if you carry on like that, no one is going to believe you're old enough to be my parents."

"Clark, you know Nightstar and I think you've met Ibn..."

Clark nodded. "Ibn." The young man bowed and offered his hand. The big man stared at the feral features, the hawklike eyes and glistening smile, touched by their familiarity.

"...Bruce's son."

Salt and pepper brows raised at that bit of information. Diana coughed and Nightwing laughed, long and hard. Overhead birds wheeled in the fair blue sky and a gentle breeze fanned Koriand'r's hair as she held her husband tight, breathing in his presence and basking in the pure pleasure of his company.

Never. Never again would she say goodbye.

The End