Ral laughed nervously. “What? I don’t understand.”
“He’s made via an experimental synthesis of mana-dynamical principles.”
“No, no, I see that,” said Ral, the bright flashes of Melek’s icy body reflecting in his eyes. “I just thought I would be the choice.”
“Oh, no, of course not,” said the dragon. “Do you have a transdynamic mana core? Is your skin made from conductive, self-repairing frost?”
“But you don’t even know all the routes I took. You weren’t there to see all the meticulous research I did.”
“Your associate told me all I needed to know.”
Skreeg the goblin emerged from behind one of the other Izzet mages. He waved sheepishly.
Wine-colored electricity crackled up Ral’s spine. “Great Firemind … please. I am the choice. I am the designated runner for our great Izzet League. I am your resource.” He shook his hands emphatically, not seeing Niv-Mizzet raise his chest and rear back his head. “Any other choice would be misguided, wrongheaded, and entirely idiotic!”
Niv-Mizzet breathed fire in a sweeping arc over the ceiling. A cascade of heat washed down over Ral and the Izzet researchers, and the girders and steam pipes in the ceiling warped, melted, and caught fire.
Ral said nothing. His hands grabbed each other.
“Melek will be representing us in the race for the maze,” said Niv-Mizzet, revealing his teeth on every syllable. “That is final. You may go and clear the promenade, Guildmage Zarek, and ready the starting place for the competitors.
Thank you.”
Lavinia climbed up a stairwell, the highest stairwell in New Prahv, up into sunlight. She emerged on the rooftop of the Lyev Tower, overlooking the whole of the Tenth, and a guard nodded to her. Before her perched the sphinx Isperia, guildmaster of the Azorius, her wings folded and her calm gaze already locked on Lavinia. And beside the sphinx stood the blue-skinned vedalken man, Kavin.
Kavin and Isperia were conferring in hushed tones. Lavinia had no idea that Isperia even knew Kavin, let alone held special rooftop meetings with him.
“She’s the only one,” Kavin was saying. “She’s the only choice.”
“It’s out of the question,” said Isperia. “Lavinia’s rank does not qualify her.”
“Then that will have to be rectified,” said Kavin.
Lavinia quickly stepped forward, stamping her feet slightly to announce herself. “Greetings, Your Honor.” She gave the traditional nod-bow.
“Lavinia,” said Kavin. “I’m glad to see you.”
“And I you.”
The city looked toylike beyond Kavin and the sphinx. Cold gusts whipped around them, but when Isperia spoke to her, her voice carried over the wind.
“We were taken by surprise, Officer Lavinia,” said the sphinx. “I don’t like surprises.”
Lavinia realized she meant the dragon’s announcement. “We knew the Izzet were up to something. And the criminal Beleren thought it was significant.” She looked at Kavin, whose expression was just as unreadable as Isperia’s. She couldn’t understand why he would be here, conferring with her guildmaster, apparently about her.
The sphinx’s eyes were like spheres of ice, frozen and unmoving. “We Azorius rely on prudence and preparation. We’re at our best when we have months to prepare, to weigh our options, to adjudicate. And now there’s no time to make a careful assessment. No time to deliberate on a choice of maze-runner.”
“That’s probably deliberate on Izzet’s part,” said Lavinia. “Hurry the schedule for the other guilds, while they’ve probably been training their maze-runner for weeks. But Your Honor, couldn’t this just be a trick on the part of the Izzet? Or another of Beleren’s ruses?”
The sphinx ignored this. “I need someone to run the dragon’s maze, and I need it now,” Isperia said. “It should be someone with knowledge of the district, and knowledge of the research Beleren conducted into the Implicit Maze. Civilian Kavin here has given me counsel on how we might proceed.”
The sphinx regarded Kavin, and he nodded. “If you want the Azorius to have a place alongside the other guilds, it’s the only way,” he said.
“Then I have made my selection.” Isperia stared down at her.
Lavinia hesitated. “You have, Your Honor?”
Isperia’s unnerving stare didn’t budge. She only waited for Lavinia to respond.
Lavinia’s hand flew to her chest. “Me?”
“I would have chosen someone else,” said the sphinx, “but knowledge of the maze is scarce. Kavin convinced me it should be you.”
Lavinia spoke carefully. “My present position as supervisor of the towers does not permit me to venture out into the
Tenth.”
“Your title is now maze-runner of the Azorius.”
“That position doesn’t exist.”
“I have made it so. But you should understand, Lavinia.
This is as important a task as I have ever bestowed on you. You will be representing our entire guild, and playing a part in history.”
Lavinia stood straight, and her face was a stark mask. “I accept.”
“So be it,” said Isperia. “Now, Kavin. You said you had another issue to bring to our attention?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” said Kavin. “Do either of you know of something called the verdict? The Supreme Verdict of Azor?”
Jace crouched near the ledge of the adjacent Azorius tower, his cloak billowing in the wind. A transparency spell shimmered around him, keeping him concealed from any nearby minds. With his mental senses, he eavesdropped with interest on the conversation that was still going on between Lavinia, the sphinx Isperia, and someone they referred to as Kavin.
He did look like Kavin. But Jace knew it couldn’t be the man he knew; he had left Kavin locked beneath miles of stone, a blood-starved vampire. Besides that, Jace couldn’t see into the mind of this vedalken man with whom they spoke. It was a negative hallmark, a sign of the shapeshifter Lazav that Jace could sense by the absence of perceptible thought.
He listened in on Lavinia’s mind instead. “Never heard of it,” she was saying.
Jace had come to pry secrets from Lavinia about the verdict, but after tracking her down, he found that Lazav was asking questions about the verdict as well. It was a coincidence that Jace didn’t like.
“Where did you hear of this?” asked Isperia.
“In my research with Beleren, we discovered it,” said Lazav, in Kavin’s voice. “I think it may be related to the maze. I need to know how it might be triggered.”
Lazav was lying, at least in part. Jace had never encountered this aspect of the maze until he found the bailiff. Lazav’s interest in the verdict gave Jace a cold, tight feeling in his stomach.
“The verdict is a powerful and ancient Azorius spell of devastating justice,” said Isperia. “It’s used only in times of extreme need. It’s said that the verdict was designed to punish all the guilty across an entire district at a time, if such a time ever came to pass.”
“And what if everyone were deemed guilty?” Kavin asked. “It would destroy the entire district?”
“Destroy it utterly, with a wave of devastating power,” said the sphinx. “That’s the nature of the verdict.”
“That’s terrifying,” said Lavinia. Her words echoed Jace’s thoughts exactly. “But what would cause an entire district to be judged guilty?”
“Of course,” said Isperia. “The Implicit Maze. The maze is the test. Azor’s test. And the end is Azor’s verdict.”