Return to Ravnica

Yours,

Jace

She crumpled the letter in her fist and whirled on the courier. “When was this sent?”

“This morning, madam.”

“Can you call for transportation? I need the fastest thing you can find me.”

MIND SCULPTING

Jace looked out the window of a cheap tower hostel, the Cobblestand Inn, just a block away from the unremarkable brick building that had been his sanctum. He had requested a room that was on one of the upper floors, in view of the sanctum building, and had led Kavin up the stairs, coaxed him into the room, and shut the door.

Kavin ran a hand over his smooth bald head. Kavin had the nearly hairless blue skin, blunted features, and lucid mind typical of his vedalken race, but little of their characteristic patience—for which Jace liked him all the more. “Now you’ll tell me what we’re doing here?” he asked.

“You’ve brought no documents with you, right?” asked Jace. “No stashed notes? No diagrams or translations of the code?”

“What? No. I left them all in the sanctum, just as you requested.”

“Good,” said Jace.

With that, Jace delivered a mental command to the mercenary he had hired, a champion warrior of the Gruul—a guild of brutish, anarchic outcasts. Jace had chosen a two-headed ogre named Ruric Thar, the most belligerent-looking and least intellectually curious warrior he could find, to demolish the sanctum.

You may proceed, he thought to his hireling, and the only response he heard was a pair of wordless mental roars.

Outside, sounds of smashing glass and splintering wood came from the sanctum building.

“What is going on?” asked Kavin.

“I’ve seen to it that all our research will be destroyed,” said Jace.

“I thought you and I would take care of that.”

“I’m not sure we would have done a thorough enough job. I know at least I would have been tempted to spare some of my notes, and that I would be drawn into the project again. Couldn’t take that chance.”

Kavin nodded slowly. “But then who’s destroying the work? Should we just be leaving it there?”

“I’ve hired someone to destroy our work for us. And the building with it.”

“But shouldn’t we get out of here? I expected to get far from the Tenth—certainly farther than the Cobblestand Inn.”

“After today, you can still flee the Tenth if you’d prefer. But after today, we won’t need to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know that even when all our research is destroyed, it still won’t be gone. There will still be remnants of it left, remnants that could be taken from us and used against us—in our memories.”

Kavin’s hands rose slowly, almost of their own accord, into a defensive position. “Wait, Jace. What exactly are you suggesting?”

“You’re right that it’s too dangerous to pursue this research. But as long as we know what we know, we’re at risk, and everyone we know is at risk. I won’t have us dragged into a dragon’s conspiracy just from what’s in our minds. I won’t be a pawn, or have you used as a pawn, by those with more power than conscience. Not while I have the power to fix it.”

“You never told me you could do that. I don’t know if I want to be fixed.”

“I won’t have those I care about be used. Believe me, I know how that feels. You think Ravnica is a big place. But even if you left home now, and left the Tenth District behind you forever, those who crave power would find you. You’d be part of their game, simply because you showed curiosity in something, simply because you cared enough to explore a secret. They would use your thoughts against you, and track you down using them.”

“Is that even possible? Could anyone actually even do that?”

Jace didn’t meet Kavin’s eyes. “I could.”

Kavin was quiet for a long time. In the near distance, through the window, they both watched smoke rise from the sanctum building. Flames flickered inside the building. Jace thought he could make out the shadow of a large, two-headed figure thrashing around inside.

“If I give up my knowledge of the code,” said Kavin. “I’ll be giving away my only weapon. Surrendering my only advantage.”

“No,” said Jace. “You’ll be refusing to be a weapon.”

There was a screeching cry outside. Jace and Kavin turned to see a griffin bearing two riders flap its way to a landing in the middle of the street. The rider in the front kept hold of the reins, controlling of the unruly griffin, while the rider on the back slid off the creature’s back. The griffin took off again, pumping its wings and heaving into the sky.

Jace recognized the figure immediately. It was Emmara. She was pacing back and forth in front of the smoke-plumed sanctum building. “Jace!” she screamed into the blazing front door. “Jace!”

“Oh, no. No, no, no. Not now.” Jace threw open the window. “Emmara!” he called, waving. “Emmara, up here!”

Emmara turned to look back at them and came running toward the Cobblestand Inn.

***

“Don’t do this,” said Emamra, breathless from bounding up the stairs to the room. “Don’t you dare.”