Dragon's Maze

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.”