Dragon's Maze

The sky looked bruised. Unnatural clouds writhed uncomfortably low over the city, concealing the tips of the tallest spires. Ropy lightning danced among the clouds, setting off chains of staccato thunderclaps. Jace could smell the humidity of the storm; under that, the scent of charged air; and under that, the warm, rough smell of rain on brick streets.

Jace found the gate unguarded, but not unprotected. The Izzet guild symbol loomed above, set into the towering wall. The symbol was not just an homage to the guild’s passionate minds, but to a single, vain mind, their draconic guildmaster Niv-Mizzet. The dragon-shaped symbol looked menacing in the storm’s flashes. And of more immediate concern were the jagged pillars of lightning that walled off the gate, like prison bars made of harnessed, frenzied electricity.

As the winds picked up and the clouds spiraled above, Jace sensed a presence nearby, and he called out, “Who’s there? Reveal yourself.”

Ral Zarek walked out of the gate. The lightning bowed apart just enough to let Zarek pass through, then sealed itself behind him again as he emerged. Jace was sure that if he attempted the same nonchalant walk, the lightning would treat him quite differently, and the experience would prove abundantly fatal.

“You’re Zarek,” said Jace. “Our host, and the runner for the Izzet.”

“And you are Beleren, the mysterious mind mage, who knew so much about the maze.”

“You’re going to have to move aside, and dismiss your blockade.”

“No one gets through here. The race is over. It’s done.”

“So you’ve solved it?”

“Ten times over. There’s nothing to find. The dragon was wrong.”

“Then you won’t mind if my friend and I pass.”

“I told you. No one gets through here. Certainly not you.”

“You know as much as I do. The power behind the maze—it’s not for just anyone to wield.”

“That’s true,” said Ral with a grin. “It’s for me to wield.”

So Zarek did believe there was something behind the maze, at that. The Izzet mage was hiding something, if only a deep antipathy for Jace. Jace reached into Zarek’s mind with his senses, feeling for an explanation, or at least a weakness he might exploit. What he found surprised him. It was not that Zarek’s mind was a storm of wild thoughts—that he expected. It was the other little fact: Zarek had seen worlds beyond Ravnica.

“I am not your foe, Planeswalker,” said Jace.

“Oho! Another one like me, then, are you? You’ve heard tell of me on other worlds, I take it.”

“I didn’t know until this moment. Your mind is open wide to me.”

“In that case, you know I’m here to see you destroyed, fellow Planeswalker.”

“Your envy is misplaced, Zarek. You cannot have any quarrel with me—you know nothing of me. You know nothing of what I’m capable of, what I’m willing to do. Now, I implore you to step aside, and let me on my way. Please understand that that would be the best course of action for everyone—for the both of us, for your guild, and for this world.”

Ral chuckled. “Whatever you think you understand, you clearly don’t comprehend the danger you’re in right now. You do not make demands of me—not you, not the dragon, not anyone. You do not cross my path. You do not.” He looked up, beyond Jace. “Not you, either.”

Jace turned around. Emmara stood there, her hair darkened and plastered against her face by the rain, her robe gathered around her.

“Jace, what’s going on?”

Ral’s smile blazed. His hands sparked with static electricity, sizzling in the rain. “Your friend doesn’t know, does she?”

“Doesn’t know what?” asked Emmara.

“Leave her out of this,” said Jace.

“That’s the sign of a planeswalker, isn’t it? Condescending to speak for the planebound. Treating them like the ants they are. You’ve seen and meddled in many worlds, haven’t you, Beleren? How long until you scamper off and leave this one behind? How long until you find another toy to play with?”

“Jace, what is he talking about?”

“Go on. Tell her I’m lying. Tell her you’re just a frequent traveler, who spends much of his time in far-off districts. Give her your excuses for why you’re gone for long periods, why you don’t have any traceable family history. Tell her why you shut others out. Go on. It’s the usual speech. I’ve given it a dozen times myself, on a dozen planes.”

“What does he mean, planes?”

Jace was tempted to speak into her mind, to tell her that Zarek was lying. He could convince her. He could help her see what an unhinged mind Zarek was.

He could even prevent her from remembering any of this conversation, if he wanted.

Instead, he said, “Emmara, I have to tell you something.”

“No.” Emmara was not physically backing away, but he could feel her psychologically retreating from him. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it.”

“I want you to know.”

“And I want you to tell me. But not this way. Not with him forcing you into it.”

Ral Zarek laughed. “She’s got a point, hasn’t she, Beleren?”

Jace ignored him. “Ravnica is only one of many worlds, and I’m not from here.”

“Stop.”