only a small desk, a pair of rickety chairs (one of which was in use by the August Questor himself), a bookshelf that had overflowed into numerous stacks of books and papers, and a strange multihued circle upon the wall that Jace believed was the Church's greatest symbol.
The walls were thin, and the voices below had not yet grown loud. Jace hoped that whatever happened would happen quietly.
He found himself nodding as the old man offered him a seat- damn, but the man had a soothing voice! — and stepped inside, turning to lock the door behind him.
The August Questor was no fool, Jace gave him that; he turned instantly, at the sound of the bolt clicking into place.
'I don't believe you're one of my assembly,' Talqez said blandly.
'Ah, no,' Jace said, suddenly at a loss for exactly how to proceed.
'Then who…' The old priest's eyes grew suddenly wide, and to Jace's shock Talqez dropped to the floor, abasing himself at the newcomer's feet.
'Worldwalker!' the man proclaimed, and Jace almost felt sick at the reverence in his voice. 'You do me great honor!'
'Get up,' Jace snapped, for some reason angrier than he'd been in a long time. 'Get up!'
The priest rose, but only to his knees, his eyes brimming with tears. 'I never thought to meet one of you in my lifetime,' he breathed, reaching out a hand as though to touch Jace, to confirm that he was real. 'I never dreamed…' 'How did you even know?' Jace asked, real curiosity in his voice. 'We can't even always identify each other.'
'What sort of priest would I be, if I did not know those who stood in the light of divinity itself? We know you-perhaps better than you know yourselves.'
'Damn it, get up!' Jace demanded angrily. 'I'm not a god, you old fool! I'm not even close!'
'You need not believe,' Talqez said, smiling behind his beard. 'It is true, all the same.'
Jace felt his fists clench of their own accord. 'I'm no god,' he said again. 'And you wouldn't call me one, if you knew why I was here.'
'Oh, I know,' the August Questor said calmly. 'You would have been welcome, had you come among us openly. For you to feel the need to sneak in, clad as you are-you can only be here for me.'
'Then let's get it done.' Jace dropped into a crouch and called out, hands clutching at the air as though to yank it open and reach for the mana within. The air turned suddenly humid as a wet wind whipped through the chamber, spinning parchments around their feet. Bestial forms began to take shape, slowly, faintly, in the accumulating dew. Jace's eyes, even his fingernails, began to glow blinding blue.
He focused his mind into a stabbing blade, ready to cut into the August Questor's mind, to interrupt any spell he might cast before it could manifest. Indeed, Jace was ready for anything…
Except for the old man to simply spread his arms wide and close tight his eyes.
Jace knew that he shouldn't question, should take advantage of any opportunity no matter how strange. He swore he could hear Tezzeret shouting over one shoulder, Kallist coaxing over the other.
Seconds passed as Jace stood frozen with indecision, his minuscule soldiers buzzing and hissing around him.
Then, cursing, he raised a hand. The winds died as rapidly as they'd risen as Jace allowed some of the accumulating mana to fade back into the waters of the world. Still scowling, he crouched on the balls of his feet.
'August Questor?'
The old man opened his eyes, and his smile broadened in contentment. 'You are a planeswalker,' he said simply. 'I don't know what good my life will do you, but if that's what you have come for, it is yours to take.'
Jace felt his stomach turn and his hands shake. He replied, his voice strangely gentle and even sympathetic, 'You misunderstand me, Questor. You're no use to us dead.'
Only then did Talqez seem to understand. Only then did his face blanch, did his breath catch, did he seem to consider resistance rather than submission.
But by then he had waited too long, and Jace was already inside his mind.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
'Jace!' Kallist sat up, surprised, as a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. 'I hadn't heard you were back yet.'
'Good.' Jace's voice was low, practically a monotone. 'Then maybe Tezzeret hasn't either.'
Kallist stood. 'Jace, what-?' He stopped, staring at his friend's bloodshot eyes. 'What happened?'
What happened? Jace bit his lip, clenched his fists, anything to keep from falling, weeping, to his knees. Such a simple question…
What happened?
Did he have the words even to answer? To explain to anyone but another mind-reader what it was to feel another man's faith? To not merely hear, or to see, but to understand his belief in something larger than he was?
How could he explain what a horrible revelation it was for someone like Jace Beleren to realize that faith was directed at him? That someone could be so deluded-or so devout-as to think him holy?
He couldn't explain, even if he could find the words.
Nor had that been his only motivation, the only reason he fled the church, leaving the August Questor, puzzled but unharmed and uncompromised, behind him.
'I saw the Questor's mind, Kallist,' Jace explained. 'I saw how many of the rumors are false-and how many aren't. The Church… There's a lot they can do, with magic, with mana, with those who manipulate magic and mana.' 'Yeah?'
'And,' Jace's voice hardened, 'I don't care for the idea of Tezzeret having access to that power.' He trembled faintly, remembering the touch of the manablade dragging across his skin. 'Not over other sorcerers and planeswalkers, certainly not over me. It's too dangerous. It's too much. I can't trust him with it, Kallist, not after seeing the sides of him I've seen.'
The blood drained from Kallist's face like someone had pulled a plug. 'You failed,' he whispered.
'Yes.'
'On purpose!'
'Yes.'
'Gods and demons, Jace! Why did you come back here? They'll kill you once they figure it out!'
Jace smiled shallowly and shrugged, emphasizing the sack he carried slung over one shoulder.
'You can't possibly have come back just for your stuff,' Kallist challenged.
'No. I came back so you could come with me.'
'I-you what? What are you talking about? You can't.'
'I can't walk with you, no. But Ravnica's a big world. Not even the Consortium can search all of it. I have places I can-we can go, where we should be safe.'
'Look, Jace,' Kallist said slowly. 'You're a great friend. I hope you make it; I'll even do what I can from here to make sure you do. But I'm not going to just walk away from my life for you. I'm sorry.'
What little smile he had managed fell away. 'No, Kallist, I'm sorry. I didn't want you caught up in this.
But I'm not asking you to come for my sake. I'm telling you for yours. We've been friends and partners for almost three years, and Paldor already knows you've helped me out-in violation of policy-before. If you tell Tezzeret, 'No, I don't know where Jace went,' do you think for one minute he'll believe you?'
'He would eventually,' Kallist muttered, but his own face had fallen as well.
'And what will have happened to you in the meantime, while he convinced himself? What'll become of your place in the Consortium after, with the shadow of suspicion hanging over you?'
Kallist turned away, then spun back, driving a fist through the uppermost drawer of his dresser. 'Damn you, Jace!'
