But before they could dash past, the troll recovered and lurched to his feet. Jace could see the flames dying down, engulfed by new, knobby warts and fast-growing fungal growths. Tissue piled on tissue, adding to Varolz’s bulk. He stood before the Simic and bellowed hot breath at them, his skin still smoking, scars rapidly replacing burn wounds.
“We should try to get around them,” said Emmara.
Varolz swung his club, and with a breathy crunch, one of the Simic soldiers tumbled over the side of the bridge. Jace peered over the ledge just in time to see the soldier’s body impact with the ground, bounce once, and come to rest in a pile of limbs. A massive, glossy-black, beetle-like monstrosity reared up out of the debris and skittered over to the corpse, lifted it into its jaws, and devoured it on the spot.
“I could summon something with wings,” said Jace, “but it’d be a risky flight. Besides, the flow of mana crosses directly over the bridge, and we can’t stray too far from the path. I think it’s through or nothing.”
Vorel battled the troll. As Vorel began a spell, the troll fist-bashed him in the gut, sending him crashing against the side of the bridge. Vorel lost his balance, and tipped over the side. He grabbed on with one hand, dangling from the edge.
Jace leaped forward and grabbed the man’s sleeve, and got a better grip on his forearm. Vorel looked up at him, wordless in fear, his legs dangling.
The Simic maze-runner had nothing to cling to, and couldn’t muster a spell. Jace’s grip was the only thing holding him there. It was Jace’s choice—he could try to pull the man up, or he could simply release, and there could be one less competitor between Emmara and winning the maze. Given that they were currently dead last, the correct strategy seemed clear, on top of the fact that this was the man who was about to end Emmara’s chances only an hour before.
Jace didn’t even have to read deeply to sense the man’s mental state. He was already trying to glance down to the cavern floor, to see how his end would come. Vorel was mostly ashamed that this would be the way his guild fell out of the competition, falling to his death on the second gate.
With a heave, Jace pulled him up, dragging him up over the low stone railing. The man’s center of gravity tipped over the ledge and he dropped onto the bridge.
“Thank you,” he said. “I underestimated that troll.” The gills on his neck hissed as he breathed.
“I made the same mistake once,” said Jace.
“Shall we work together to get past him now?” Emmara asked. “Or do you not work with obsolete specimens?”
Varolz was beginning to advance across the bridge, toward them. The remaining Simic soldiers retreated, looking back to the mages for guidance.
“What magic do you possess?” asked Jace.
“I am a biomancer,” said Vorel. “I perfect living things.”
“Can you use that to stop him?” asked Jace.
“I am not accustomed to using magic to harm living things.”
“You let your pets do that for you,” said Emmara.
“Yes,” said Jace. “How fast can you summon?”
“Summon what?”
Jace sized up the troll. “Something big. And preferably hungry.”
The biomancer Vorel narrowed his eyes at the troll and clasped his hands tightly together. He pulled his palms apart, making a cage of his fingers, and a tiny sea of turquoise light churned between his hands. As he spread his hands open, the sea of light expanded, growing and shimmering, and a shadow grew within it. A deep, shuddering moan emanated from the center of the spell, and with a blast of wind and sea-spray, a monster of tentacles and carapace emerged, rising as high as the bridge. The leviathan cast one row of its eyes on Varolz, and its tentacles engulfed him, lifting him away. Jace could hear the troll’s roars through the leviathan’s muffling appendages.
Jace and Emmara looked at each other then dashed across the bridge. Vorel and the Simic delegation followed along behind them. They crossed through the Golgari gate and continued down a tunnel. Darkness swallowed them.
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.”