Agents of Artifice

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

At the top of the stairs, Liliana stood in what could only be called the beating heart of Tezzeret's home. A few surviving specters flitted about her waist, ready to drink the life from any who dared approach. Scattered across the floor lay a handful of arrows, each of which matched the single shaft that currently protruded from a bloody wound in her thigh. Splayed out beside them were the corpses of a dozen Consortium guards, partial remnants of the first wave that had attacked once Baltrice had finally fallen at her feet.

None could reach her now. She had sealed the door to the inner sanctum, a door of solid steel that would hold them at bay for many days. All she had to do now was wait.

With a grunt she jerked the projectile from her flesh, hissing in pain as it tore free. A few moments to tie a makeshift bandage around the wound, and then she was limping across the chamber, eyes skittering over her-well, her and Jace's- new prize.

Wiping a handful of sweat-and-ash paste from her forehead, she examined the gleaming metal ring, the glowing gems and aether-filled tubes, the switches and runes, and of course the great throne that sat in its center. From here, the leader of the Consortium could rule an empire of worlds.

If he knew what those worlds were. If he knew who served him. If he knew how to answer the calls of his lieutenants, and how to construct the devices Tezzeret had given them.

But that was fine, because they would know. The plan would work; it had to. Any moment now, Jace would return with the information they needed-and already indebted to Nicol Bolas, to boot. She hoped he would be amenable to her needs, that they could rule the Consortium together in the dragon's name.

And if not? Well, Liliana cared for Jace Beleren, but she had done ugly things to those she cared about before. She would, as always, do what she had to do.

For now, all she had to do was wait.

Completely invisible within his cloak of illusions, Jace lurked in the hallway behind the guards as they milled about outside the inner sanctum's door, wondering what to do next, how to get at the necromancer within-and whether or not they even wanted to.

Liliana was alive, then. Jace couldn't quite suppress a sigh of relief. She was alive, and she was waiting for him.

She would be waiting a long, long time.

Jace spun and strode down the stairs, slipping past the occasional guard, heading for the lower levels where he might find a few moments of complete privacy. He didn't know if she would ever forgive him for this, anymore than he knew if he could ever forgive her. And ultimately, it didn't matter.

The Consortium was gone. No prize for Liliana, no prize for Bolas, no prize even for Jace himself. Oh, some individual cells might survive, even thrive, but without Tezzeret, without the knowledge that Jace had chosen to let die with the artificer's mind, the Consortium itself was dead.

And that was as it had to be. He wouldn't live his life in fear, not anymore, and fear was all the Consortium had to offer him. Fear that Liliana cared only for it and never for him. Fear of what Bolas would do to him if he refused to bow to the dragon, and of what the dragon would make him do if he did.

But most of all, fear of himself. Jace's soul had all but died, day by day, from the instant he joined the artificer's foul cabal. Jace had allowed the Consortium to turn him into someone he didn't know, but by all the power in the Multiverse, he would not allow it to turn him into another Tezzeret.

All he could do was walk away, and let the whole of it crumble into dust and ruin behind him. And if that meant he had no idea what to do with his life-if he found himself drifting, as aimless as the day Baltrice's fire rained down from the sky above the open air cafe-then at least that life was his once more.

And then, as he stepped into the same supply room at the base of the tower where he'd briefly worn Baltrice's face, he knew where to start. In the midst of all the looming questions, he realized abruptly what he had to do next. Because he knew, no matter whether he could ever forgive her, or she him, that he and Liliana would meet again; knew it as surely as he knew that a thousand suns wound rise tomorrow, across a thousand worlds.

When that happened, he would have her answer. He swore to himself that he would free Liliana from her bargain, no matter how long it took, no matter how many worlds he had to scour. He would learn who she was beneath the fear and the desperation and the lies.

And then, if he could love whom he found, perhaps they could begin again.

Jace Beleren stepped from the depths of Tezzeret's tower and vanished into the farthest reaches of the Blind Eternities.