Dragon's Maze

THE STING OF JUSTICE

The Azorius guildgate was an arch made of arches, faultless gray stone bent around a curve, architecturally perfect in pattern and form. A bank of steps swept up to the gate, and the great triangle of the Azorius guild symbol hung above like a watchful eye.

Azorius guards halted Jace and Emmara, and Vorel and his remaining Simic warriors behind them. The guards didn’t advance until the moment Jace put one foot on the first step, at which point they whipped their swords out and crossed them in front of his path.

Lavinia stepped down the stairs toward them. Behind her was Kavin, or Lazav with Kavin’s face. He wore a thin smile on his lips, an expression that the impassive Kavin never showed. It struck Jace suddenly that Kavin was probably dead.

“It’s good to see you, Kavin,” said Jace. “You’re looking well. Much better than when I saw you last, in fact.”

“Still meddling in guild affairs, it seems,” said Kavin. “Spreading lies, interfering in a guild competition …”

Jace nudged an Azorius guard’s blade out of his face with his finger. “I don’t suppose you could let us pass,” he said, looking to Lavinia.

Kavin leaned in close to Lavinia and whispered something in her ear.

“The maze-runners may pass,” said Lavinia. “But only them. Beleren and the rest will remain behind.”

“I’m not going through without them,” said Vorel, flanked by his Simic followers. “And no guild of archaic rules-worshipers is going to stop us.”

Lavinia lashed out with law magic. Dazzling light blasted out from her, and when Jace’s eyes adjusted again, each member of Vorel’s entourage was enveloped in a glowing sphere of Azorius runes. Vorel’s soldiers were held frozen, incapacitated, unreachable.

“Release them!” Vorel shouted.

“They were trespassing on Azorius territory without a writ of passage signed by, or special consent given by, an authorized Azorius official,” said Lavinia. “But you and the elf may accompany me through the gate.”

“What are you up to?” Jace demanded. He asked it of the shapeshifter, but Lavinia answered as if the question were addressed to her.

“I now understand that the Implicit Maze is a test of our cooperation,” said Lavinia. “Of unity. The maze-runners shall proceed through unharmed, as our guild’s founder would have it. That is the true path to victory for all of us—and the path that will prevent a dire catastrophe.”

“Did he tell you all that?” Jace asked, jutting his chin at the vedalken man.

“Even with your criminal memory intrusion, Kavin is far more knowledgeable about the maze than you ever realized,” said Lavinia.

“Kavin is dead,” said Jace.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jace noticed Emmara shooting him a look. Then she narrowed her eyes at the shapeshifter.

“Your lies have a note of desperation to them, Beleren,” said Lavinia. “It’s time I got you off the streets of my district.”

On a hunch, Jace prepared countermagic, but he felt his spell suppressed, perhaps from the Azorius guards, or by some consequence of the huge Azorius symbol staring down at him.

“I’ve waited a long time to say this.” Lavinia summoned twin bracelets of shimmering runes around Jace’s hands. “Jace Beleren, by the authority of the Azorius Senate, you are under arrest.”

“What are you doing?”

“You are wanted by the Azorius Senate for conspiracy and high crimes against the public order.”

“You damned fool,” said Jace. “You need me. I know you know about the verdict. This whole place could go.”

“The maze is Azorius magic. Leave it to us. For now, this is my district again.”

“You’re making a mistake,” said Emmara. “Don’t do this. We need him.”

“Emmara, go,” said Jace. “Take Vorel. Catch up with the other maze-runners. I’ll find you.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” she said.

Kavin put his hand on Jace’s shoulder, to lead him up the stairs and into Azorius territory. Jace gave him a withering look, but kept himself calm.

“Emmara, you must,” he said. “Just get to the end, without violence if you can. Go.”

Ral Zarek rode on a cloud made of electricity and impatience. He angrily hurled strokes of lightning at the scattering guardians of the Orzhov gate, sparking a chain of explosions that shattered a row of elaborate three-story stained glass portraits of influential Orzhov priests and aristocrats. The other Izzet mages in his entourage ran to keep up with him, following the trail of destruction he had created. He knew the route by heart now. There was no one who knew it better than he did—not even Melek, the ridiculous creature that his own guild had created to replace him. If only these petty guild guardians would stop trying to impede his progress, he could connect the dots, waltz through the district, and claim his rightful prize. He thought he was being very clear about his intentions—the lightning bolts were his way of asking everyone to please clear out of the way of the guildgate—so the resistance was frustrating.

“Guildmage Zarek!” shouted Skreeg the goblin. “Thrulls!”

An Orzhov priest jabbed a finger toward Ral from the far side of the guildgate, and a swarm of gray-skinned, implike thrulls scampered across the square toward him. Their faces were all covered in grotesque bronze masks, and they emitted a variety of unpleasant screeches. They were the lowest rung of the Orzhov guild hierarchy, child-sized sycophants spat on even by first-year functionaries and lowly debtors, but in great numbers they were fearsome enough. Ral poured more energy into the cloud of lightning supporting him, and he rose into the air over the Orzhov square. To his annoyance, he found that some of the thrulls bore batlike wings, and they buzzed and bombed him.

This was the price of having the best information about the maze, he thought. This was the price of first place, the price of being a planeswalker among the nearsighted mages with only one world to call home. All the other guilds were following in his footsteps, trying harder to stop the leader than to figure out their own way.

“Followers,” he growled aloud as he flung thundercracks at thrulls and electrocuted the Orzhov priest who was trying to summon more. “Leeches and amateurs!”

If Ral had had his way, none of the other guilds would have been involved at all. Niv-Mizzet’s theory was that all the guilds had to be involved for the maze to give up its prize, due in part to the research of the guildless mage Beleren. If he saw Beleren now, he would pay him back for that little slight. And Niv-Mizzet would not be happy that Ral had taken the place of his precious Melek, but Ral would just have to prove himself to him, too. It was exhausting, always having to show so many people how wrong they were.

Ral blasted his way through the Orzhov gate and made a hard turn for Simic territory. He didn’t even turn his head to check whether Skreeg and the rest of his Izzet team were behind him. Let them chase, he thought. None of them understood how it felt to be a planeswalker.

Lavinia led Jace into a circular Azorius courtyard with fountains burbling around the perimeter. The sphinx Isperia occupied the center, looking even more impressive on the ground than when Jace had seen her on the tower rooftop. Lazav, still doing his act as Kavin, accompanied them, and Jace noticed Kavin wore a new Azorius badge; they had deputized him in some manner. As a functionary read out the opening statements of the emergency tribunal, Jace wondered how deeply Lazav had managed to insinuate himself into the Azorius guild, and what influence he’d had, and how this served Dimir’s ends.

“Please don’t do this,” said Jace, interrupting the formalities. “Please. You said yourself, Lavinia. If this race doesn’t run smoothly, this whole district is at risk.”

“Justice will finally be done!” announced Lavinia. “The law will be upheld. This court has been set up especially for you.”

Isperia’s face was unfathomable. Without trying to dive deep into her mind, Jace couldn’t interpret her emotions, if she even possessed any. “We don’t release suspects without proper jurisprudence,” said the sphinx.

“You have to set me free, so I can prevent a catastrophe.”

“We will prevent it,” said Lavinia. “We can undo this magic.”

Jace caught Kavin sending a significant glance at Isperia.

“No, we will not,” Isperia said.

“What?” Lavinia’s brow furrowed.

“This is magic that traces back to Azor,” the sphinx went on. “Azor was the embodiment of law, even more than I am. His ruling shall not be countermanded.”

“But it’ll destroy the city,” said Lavinia. “Unless the guilds prove they’re able to cooperate, they’ll trigger the verdict.”

“Azor’s wisdom has logic in it,” said Isperia. “The guilds have nothing but ire for each other. We have shown that we cannot set aside our differences without a Guildpact to guide us. Perhaps the verdict would be just.”

“We can file a writ,” said Lavinia. “Use emergency procedures to guide it through the senators. Put an injunction on the verdict.”

“We will do no such thing,” said Isperia. “It is my sworn duty to uphold the truths upon which Azor founded this guild. That means upholding the Implicit Maze. That means upholding the message it brings to us, and the will of he who decreed it. That means upholding the verdict.”

Lavinia’s epaulets fell just slightly. “We’re all going to die,” said Lavinia.

Jace did not see Kavin grin; the shapeshifter had enough composure for that. And he couldn’t read his mind. But the man’s tiny head-tilt at the mention of massive loss of life, was enough body language to tell Jace that somehow, some way, this was part of Lazav’s plan.

“Sentence me,” said Jace.

Everyone looked at him.

“Begin the court, and sentence me. Find me guilty, if you have to. Do whatever you have to do. Then suspend my sentence and get me out of here. Let me stop a lot of people from dying. I’m not bound by the same laws you are.”

“Ridiculous,” said Lavinia.

“Impossible,” said Kavin.

“Interesting,” said the sphinx.

Lavinia and Kavin looked at Isperia with shock, and for a moment Jace felt a surge of hope. Jace had hope that he might walk free. He just hoped he hadn’t wasted too much time.