“I can’t help you.”
“You have to. Just think about it for a moment.”
“I have,” he said. “Please stay.” And then he cast a spell he never thought he would use on himself.
THE REACH OF THE LAW
Jace jerked awake on the floorboards of an unfamiliar room. He had an ugly throb in his skull and a hole in his memory. It didn’t make sense to him that he was prone, or why he was on the floor, although he did not remember why he shouldn’t be. He had the sensation of the passage of time, but couldn’t remember why.
He realized someone was speaking to him.
“Sir,” said a hesitant male voice. “Sir, are you all right?”
As Jace pushed himself partway up, using the wall to brace himself, he felt stab of pain near his hairline. By reflex he put his hand to his head, and when he drew it back, there was blood on his fingers. A man was standing over him, hands folded. Jace tried to recognize his face. It felt strange to apply effort to a task that had always come automatically before, like simply recognizing a face.
“They took your friend, I’m afraid,” the man said. “Very sorry for your loss.”
“I’m sorry, what’s your name again?” Jace asked. His voice cracked as he spoke, as if he hadn’t spoken for hours.
“Andrek. I’m the innkeeper.”
Innkeeper. “The Cobblestand,” Jace said.
“That’s right, sir.”
Jace rose to a standing position, regretting the action when he felt his mind roiling with pain. He lurched to the window. He was on a high floor in the building, overlooking a street at night. He recognized that he was across the street from his sanctum building, which was, alarmingly, on fire.
That was not how Jace remembered leaving it.
“You’ll be charged for the damages, I’m afraid,” said Andrek the innkeeper.
Scanning the room, Jace realized the place was a wreck. The bed was upside-down and broken against the wall, a chair lay splintered, and angry knife marks were torn across the wainscoting. Flakes of ash from some unknown pyromantic spell littered the floor like black confetti. Jace noticed a dirty coin on the floor—not a piece of the usual currency used in the Tenth. It looked like a cheap novelty token. One side had a picture of a leering demonic face, and the other bore the words RUN WITH THE ROUGH CROWD.
Jace absently pocketed the token. “What happened here?”
“As I said, sir. They took your friend. The elf woman.”
Emmara. He remembered she had been with him, although he couldn’t remember why. “Who took her?”
“They were Rakdos, sir. A whole mob of them. I’m very sorry.”
Jace took the innkeeper’s shirt in his fists. His next four words were deliberately delivered, nose to nose. “Where did they go?”
“I couldn’t say, sir. Also, there are some Azorius officers downstairs, asking questions. Do you know anything about that burning building across the street?”
Jace only got to the stairway before he ran into the Azorius officers coming up from the bottom floor of the inn.
“Sir, are you Jace Beleren, the man who lives at the building across the street?” asked the officer, a tall woman in shining plate armor. The signet on her cape was a runic circle inside an equilateral triangle, the sign of the Azorius guild. Behind her, two knights blocked the stairwell, their hands on their scabbards.
“There’s been a kidnapping,” said Jace. “A gang of Rakdos cultists has abducted my friend from this hotel.”
“The innkeeper informed us of that incident, and a claim has been filed with the minister of investigation,” said the officer. “You are Jace Beleren?”
“My building is burning, yes, and I don’t know why. I’ve … I’ve been attacked, I think. I can try to answer your questions about that place later. Right now I need your help finding my friend.”
Jace’s head throbbed, and a trickle of blood ran down his forehead and reached his brow.
“I am not authorized to investigate that at this time, sir. An officer will be assigned, in accordance with all applicable laws and statutes. Could you come with us?”
Jace wondered how the officers had found him, how they knew his name, and how long it had been since the building caught fire. Usually it took weeks for the Azorius to steer the proper forms through their baffling system of permits and regulations. Yet here they were, intent on questioning him. He squeezed his fists, wishing he could remember what events brought him here.
“If you’re not going to find her, then I will,” said Jace.
Jace lashed out with magic that would incapacitate the Azorius officers, but they only frowned their stern frowns at him. His spell had failed. One of them must be a lawmage, and they must have dampened spells in the area already—exactly what he would have done if he thought a mind mage would be here.
“Suspect Jace Beleren,” said the Azorius officer, bringing her hands together to form a tight spiral of glowing magical runes. “Your actions meet a reasonable definition of resistance, and the use of magical force has become authorized. Come with us, now.” She stepped toward Jace. “Your compliance is obligatory.”
Jace was out of time and out of options. It was time to give himself up. But instead he found himself dashing for a window on the opposite end of the hallway of the inn. He launched himself against the pane, breaking through onto an upper-story rooftop. He rolled down a length of sloping roof, dropped onto a lower platform, rolled down another shingled slope, and fell half a story into a stand of bushes. He stumbled out, spitting out a mouthful of brambles.
Jace expected to see Azorius officers already in the back of the inn, but instead he saw huge feet. As he scanned upwards, the feet turned out to be connected to muscular, tree-trunk legs, which were in turn attached to a massive body that blocked his path. The ogre that stared down at him did so from two angles, due to the fact that it possessed two heads. One of the two-headed ogre’s forearms had been replaced by, or possibly upgraded with, a massive prosthetic axe, and crude clan tattoos ran up and down his limbs.
“It’s you,” said one of the ogre’s heads, with a guttural grunt.
“It’s him,” agreed the other head, the words rumbling through his tusks.
Jace did not have time to process this. He scanned for exits, but the Azorius caught up with him, streaming around the building and closing in on his position. Their numbers had increased, but when they caught sight of the two-headed ogre, they hesitated. Each of the brute’s heads looked back and forth with a pair of sneers, a deep growl rumbling in their chest.
“I am Officer Lavinia of the Tenth,” said the Azorius officer, the same woman who had confronted him upstairs. “Jace Beleren, you are under arrest by the authority of Supreme Judge Isperia and of the governorship of New Prahv. You, citizen,” she added, indicating the ogre, “will stand back at this time and not interfere.”
Jace scanned the ring of armored Azorius officers and lawmages. None of this was helping him find Emmara, but he could see no way out. He walked forward, wrists out, and the leader Lavinia took him into custody simply by putting her hand on his shoulder. Her touch was cold through the material of his cloak, and made him feel instantly sluggish and compliant. If he had had any fight left, it was leaving him quickly.
At this, the ogre strode right up to Lavinia and headbutted her with both of his heads simultaneously, clanging against her helmet from two directions.
As Lavinia collapsed, he Azorius lawmages hurled their restraining spells at the massive ogre, but they barely slowed the brute down. Soldiers moved in to engage the double ogre with sword and spear, but one swing of his axe cut them down, sending their armored bodies clattering like tin cans.