Due to an array of carefully maintained pyromantic magics, she herself was virtually fireproof; she wore stonewort and drakeskin because she had simply gotten tired of having to replace her outfit every time she got in a fight-which was, as announced by sundry scars on her face, neck, and head that she did not bother to conceal, an all-too-common occurrence.
A more curious feature of her equipment appeared to be a sort of harness, constructed of thin metal cable strongly resembling etherium. As the woman strode forward from the mirror-swirl of reality, she dragged into the world a young man who appeared to be unconscious, tethered to her by the same cable that made up her harness. As soon as he was fully on the beach, she shucked her harness and undid the one around the young man’s chest. Exchanging her personal flame for a more general fire shield some ten feet in diameter, she threw him over her shoulder as if he were no more than a broken mannequin.
She moved along the metal beach with the alert caution of a warrior in enemy territory. Her expression had the blank intentness that signifies complete concentration on surroundings and movements, and none at all on doubts, fears, or anything that might go on inside her instead of outside; she moved as though she’d decided not to worry about what to do until after she discovered to whom she’d have to do it.
So it was that when Tezzeret spoke, she jerked and her sizzling globe of fire shield crackled outward around her, bright enough to hurt the eyes, even though all he said was, “Baltrice. Over here.”
The blazing shell around her dimmed, but it did not fade away. “Tezzeret?”
He waved to her, and she moved cautiously along the beach until she could see him. When she could, she stopped and straightened up, frowning. “You’re naked.”
Tezzeret nodded. “And you’re not.”
Baltrice’s frown dissolved, and she shrugged. “Better than the other way around, I guess.”
Tezzeret privately agreed with her, though he was too wary of her temper to say so. “Thank you for coming-and for bringing Beleren.”
“It’s as good a time as any to find out if your word’s good.” She set the unconscious young man down on the etherium sand. “Hey-hey! You’re not wearing the damn ring!”
She shook her fist at him; on her smallest finger was a plain band of etherium, and in her eyes were flames. “Where is it, you bastard-where?”
He spread his hands, inviting her to inspect again his nakedness. “As you might notice, a number of my personal possessions did not accompany me on this journey. And you hardly need the ring when you have me, yes?”
“Well…” She looked down, sighing, then gave him an apologetic shrug. “I guess.”
“That etherium tether,” he said, “is an interesting workaround. Is that yours?”
She shrugged. “It lets me activate his Spark, kinda like secondhand. He’s out because-well, you’d be the one to know. Awake through a planeswalk? Your gadget would probably kill him.”
“It was designed to. My compliments on your solution.”
“Ahh, you know. Wasn’t my idea. Him, though, he’s good at figuring stuff out.”
“I remember. How is my father?”
Baltrice made a face. “Next time I see him, I’ll give him your love,” she said. “What in the hells is this place?”
He took a long, pensive look around. “It’s a mausoleum,” he said at length, “for the fondest dreams of Esper.”
“Oh, for the love of-” Baltrice shook her head, and the fire around her brightened. “Look, can we not start that crap this one time? Please?”
“Crap?” he said mildly.
“Where you talk in metaphors and literary references and junk to show me how smart you are. Just cut it the hell out, can you?”
He considered this with a slight frown. “I’m not sure I can.”
“So okay, do we do the thing now? I mean, this was the deal, right? I did my bit. Now you do yours. You’ve put Jace through enough already.”
“Oh, Jace, is it now?”
She flushed. “There’s been some hard types sniffing around-could be working for the dragon themselves-”
“Nicol Bolas’s interest in Jace is not homicidal.”
“Yeah, okay, but even so-”
“I am more curious about your interest in Jace,” he said. “You like him.”
“Sure I like him.” Her flush deepened. “He pays me.”
“Does he? Still?”
“Better than you ever did.”
“I had thought Jace’s personal finances might be currently… shall we say, a bit stressed…?”
She made a chopping motion with her hand that spilled fire on the beach at her feet. “He looks after his people.”
“Or is it that he pays you in coin that can’t be measured in weights of gold?” He peered into her eyes with a focused intent not unlike hers had been on arrival. “Does he give you reason to believe that he, ah, likes you back?”
Her flush now became a full-on blush-one that was accompanied by the kindling of dangerous fires in her eyes. “We get along,” she said evenly. “We’re friends. That’s all.”
“Ah. Friends. Has he ever told you what happened to his friend-his best friend-Kallist Rhoka?”
“That skull banger he jobbed with, back in the day? What about him?”
“Ask Jace. It’s an entertaining story. Jace Beleren trades in friendship as I trade in money. The difference between doing business with him and doing business with me is that money buys things you want.”
“That’s a long way from the only difference.” The flames in her eyes licked outward, threatening to ignite the air between them.
He held up a hand. “I’m not trying to antagonize you, Baltrice. If to remove my device from his brain is what you truly wish from me, I am willing-for your sake, not for his.”
“What do I care about why?”
“A fair point,” he conceded. “But I do hope you’ll keep in mind that the last time Jace Beleren had me at a disadvantage, he killed me. Murdered me, in fact, with malice aforethought.”
The fires around her dimmed a little. “You’re afraid of him.”
“I have reason to be.”
“I won’t let him hurt you, all right?”
“I’m flattered that you think I might trust you.”
“I mean, sure, you and me, we’ve had our differences-”
“A mild phrase for betrayal, torture, and several attempted homicides.”
“Still, you know, we worked together pretty good for a while, back before…” She shook her head again. “And then on this sphinx hunt of yours. I even chased off your little black-haired, zombie-sucking slut bag for you.”
“And I am grateful for it,” he said. “How is the… ah, zombie-sucking slut bag?”
“Better at hiding than you are.” She let the fires she’d been holding flicker out. “Tezzeret, I’m not here for a fight, okay? Just get your gadget out of Jace’s brain and we’ll be on our way.”
Tezzeret sighed. “There are two major flaws with your plan-and that’s if we overlook your presumption that I have told you the truth about myself and my intentions; specifically, that I am not only willing to remove the item in question, but that the item can actually be removed without killing Beleren.”
Flames around her hands brightened. “If Jace dies, so do you.”
“I believe you,” he said. “Here are the flaws in your plan. First, as you can see, here I have no facilities nor equipment nor tools, all of which might be required to make such an operation successful.”
“Then we take him to your damned-”
“Second,” Tezzeret said, raising a hand to interrupt, “is your presumption that either of us is going anywhere.”
The fire shield flared around Baltrice and Beleren until the etherium sand began to fuse at her feet. “I’d like to see somebody try to stop me.”
“Your wish is about to be granted.”
“You’re ready, aren’t you,” she said. It wasn’t a question. “You’re ready for any move I can make. Fight, walk away, cooperate, whatever. You’re ready.”