Jace only nodded in agreement. Kallist shook his hand, sending an array of splinters and blood across the furniture, and then moved about the room gathering what he thought he'd need. Jace could only watch, sorry for what he'd done-and yet, deep within, secretly rejoicing that he wouldn't be going alone.
Eventually Kallist stepped up beside Jace, and either his anger had already begun to fade or he was doing a damn fine job of hiding it. 'All right. I've got a plan.'
'You do?' Jace asked, startled.
'Sure. First, you reveal to me that you're actually the reincarnation of the greatest wizard of the Azorius Senate.'
'Umm…'
'And then you use that great power to smite our enemies.'
'I see.' Jace managed a second grin. 'And if I find some flaw in this plan?'
'Well, then you'd better have one to replace it, because that's all I've got.'
It was only on the last word that Kallist's voice quavered, and Jace knew that his friend was afraid. It was, in its own way, more startling than anything else that had befallen him. In all their years working together, Jace had seen his friend worried a hundred times; but he'd never seen him afraid.
'Actually, I do,' Jace said slowly. 'But I think you might decide that yours is better.'
'Jace!' Paldor said standing behind his desk as the door to his office burst open. 'You're supposed to be-'
Jace whispered a sound that was not a word. Paldor staggered a single step and fell senseless to the floor by his chair.
'Dead?' Kallist asked softly.
'No. Not even unconscious in the most technical sense. But it'll be hours before he can form a sentient thought again.'
'And what would we have done if Tezzeret had been here?'
Jace shrugged once, moving toward the leftmost wall. 'Died, I imagine.' He took a long moment to examine the aether-filled contraption hanging from the wall. Then, 'Lock the door. You get started on the window while I deal with this.'
Carefully, examining each tube, every knot-like twist, Jace began to construct an illusory duplicate of the device whose destruction could call Tezzeret to Ravnica. And then, just as carefully, he began to shatter that illusion, while cloaking the real device in an image of blank wall.
He had no idea how long the image might last once he was gone-he'd rarely tried to maintain such an illusion from a distance-but every moment of delay was a moment they could run that much farther. With Paldor down and Tezzeret unreachable, the ensuing confusion might buy the fugitives extra hours, possibly even days.
Kallist worked diligently at the massive window that occupied one wall of the room, attempting to provide them an unguarded exit. He knew well that the magically augmented glass would never shatter, so instead he struggled to pry it loose from its moorings, even going so far as to jam the tip of his broadsword into the top of the frame, wiggling it as a makeshift pry-bar. And if he occasionally envisioned Jace's face when he slammed the blade home into the wood, if the clench of his jaw was as much resentment as it was exertion, well, it didn't distract him from his endeavors.
It took them half an hour-a half-hour they really couldn't spare, but would be worth it if it bought them more time to run-but finally Jace was content with the broken image he'd made of the device, finally the window slid from the wall to strike the carpet with a muffled thud. The warm, sweat- and dirt-flavored air of the slowly recovering Rubblefield wafted into the office, tousling hair and sleeves and Jace's cloak.
'So what now?' Kallist asked gruffly. 'You going to fly us out of here?'
'Actually,' Jace began, 'that's exactly what-''
The door to the office slammed open, the wood splintering as the heavy bolt was torn aside. Baltrice stood framed in the open doorway, fire dancing across her fingertips, something long and scaly writhing through the cloud of smoke that filled the hall behind her.
Jace cursed, even as he spun toward her, hands raised. Damn it all, he hadn't even known she was on Ravnica! What was she doing here now? He could probably take her-almost certainly could, if Kallist was willing to help-but could he do it fast enough? Could he do it before the guards arrived, or with sufficient strength remaining to make his escape?
She took one step forward, a second, and then, with a bitter curse, dropped her hands to her sides. 'Get out of here, Beleren!'
For an instant, Jace couldn't move. He couldn't have been more stunned if she'd announced that she was having his baby. 'What?'
'For Kamigawa,' she snarled. 'We're even now, Beleren, your life for mine. If you're stupid enough to let me catch you after this, I will kill you, and I'll enjoy every minute of it!'
Still thunderstruck, Jace nonetheless turned toward the window. He'd have time to be flabbergasted later, damn it! Sporadic flashes of azure light whipped about him, carried by a wind that gusted up from the floor in time to his steps as he moved toward Kallist and the open window. Pure telekinetic force lifted them high, spreading forth from Jace like invisible wings. And then they were gone, speeding off into Ravnica's darkened skies, already beginning to descend beyond the nearest buildings as Jace's strength quickly burned out.
And behind them, in the office now open to the night air, Baltrice grinned broadly. Let him go; they'd find him, sooner or later. But even if they didn't, it hardly mattered now. Jace Beleren was, at least to her, to the position and the power she'd worked so long to achieve, no longer a threat.
She almost found herself whistling as she turned and strode from Paldor's office, not even bothering to check on the fellow who lay, staring at nothing, behind his desk.
They'd spoken little after that, during the many days of their journey. Kallist had brooded nearly the whole way, his every expression and monosyllabic grunt discouraging all attempts at conversation. They passed through a dozen districts via wide open streets and underground passages so cramped they had to crawl on hands and knees, atop bridges so high that clouds passed beneath them, blocking all view of the ground, and alongside buildings so massive that even their shadows pressed down with the weight of years. And ever so gradually, they felt the first easing of the tension they carried between them like a wounded companion, as the territories of the Infinite Consortium fell ever farther behind them.
Eventually, their route took them to the banks of one of Ravnica's great rivers, and the streets that ran beside its coursing waters. For many days more they followed it downstream, until the breezes turned cooler and the tang of saltwater spread before them, the whispering voice of a sea that was now partly buried beneath the great city's unstoppable sprawl.
And finally, as they neared their destination, Kallist had begun to open up again. 'Why Lurias?' he'd asked Jace one morning. 'I've never even heard of the district before now.'
'That's partly why,' Jace had answered. 'And because my friend Rulan-did I ever tell you about
Rulan? Well, he's… Let's say he'd have made a great Orzhov, except that he's not a completely soulless bastard. He's got a lot of contacts with moneylenders and banking guilds. And Lurias is one of the smaller districts where he helped establish one of the accounts I've been feeding with everything the Consortium paid me. We'll have funds enough here-for a good while, if we're careful.'
'Sounds positively fantastic,' Kallist muttered.
There was more to it, of course, but Kallist-even with the limited magic Jace had managed to teach him- would pick up on that soon enough.
Built on the delta of this nameless river, buildings not nearly as tall or grand as those of Dravhoc lined the lengths of streets not nearly as wide. The arches were modest, the rare spires made of simple stone or brass rather than crystal. It wasn't a poor district by any objective measurement, but it was certainly far less than Kallist or Jace were accustomed to.
Of potentially greater import, however, was the world beneath those humble streets. Most of the delta was soggy, shallow marsh-which was itself responsible for Lurias's poor foundations and irritating insect population. But at the district's far end and along the banks of the river, the waters rushing into the buried sea were clean and clear. Those neighborhoods were built not atop swampy knolls but on tiny islets, and it was there-there amid the
