Return to Ravnica

Officer Lavinia stood before the enormous double doors that led into the highest spire of New Prahv, the lair of the guildmaster. To look at her, nothing would seem out of place: her cape spilled elegantly from her officer’s armor, her sword shone like a decorative piece one would hang above a mantel, and her three-sided medals displayed her district-spanning rank. But her brow trembled, more with frustration than with fear. And she clutched at a folded note in her hand, worrying it with her fingers. It read “Her Honor the Supreme Judge would have words with you.”

When the hussars opened the doors for her, she stepped up onto the azure-carpeted dais and gave the traditional nod of respect. Under the enormous Azorius signet, with its mazelike runes bounded within a perfect triangle, was her guildmaster, the Supreme Judge herself: the sphinx Isperia. A robed scribe who had almost more gray eyebrows than face stood nearby, holding a quill ready over a long roll of paper.

“Your Honor,” said Lavinia.

The scribe wrote on his paper, making a sharp scratching sound, and stopped again.

Isperia’s huge feathered wings were folded against her lionlike flanks, and she sat with her back arched nobly. Her paws flexed, pricking bits of the carpet with her claws.

The sphinx’s eyes focused directly on Lavinia. Some said the guildmaster never blinked, and Lavinia found no evidence to the contrary.

“You have returned from investigating the suspect,” said Isperia.

“Yes, Your Honor,” said Lavinia. “And yet Jace Beleren is not here before me now. Why is this?”

The scribe continued scratching. Lavinia couldn’t help flicking her eyes to him in annoyance.

“He has eluded our patrols. We need more hussars, more lawmages.”

The sphinx ruffled her great wings. “I do not foresee you succeeding with more resources.”

Lavinia’s teeth clenched. It did not do to contradict a sphinx, let alone her guildmaster.

“You’ve learned what you can from the scene?”

“The evidence appears clear, Your Honor. We have witnesses who’ll testify that the suspect fled the scene after attempting to use magic on our officers.”

“This man sounds dangerous, Officer Lavinia. How did you pursue?”

“Our pursuit was delayed by an altercation with an unrelated party. By the time we were extricated from that situation, the suspect had escaped. But we will find him.”

“One person delayed your entire investigation?”

“It was an ogre, Your Honor. One of the Gruul. A fearsome warrior.”

“And he, of course, was apprehended in accordance with protocols?”

“Yes, Your Honor. We confined him temporarily.”

“Temporarily?”

“He broke the detention spells.”

“By unweaving your law-runes?”

“By … punching them, Your Honor. He, too, remains at large.”

Isperia glowered. “Officer Lavinia,” she snapped, “when I ask you a question, you will volunteer nothing less than the perfect, most transparent truth. Do you understand?”

It took all of Lavinia’s will not to take a half-step backward. The scribe wrote, his quill wiggling back and forth, and he murmured softly to himself.

Lavinia kept her shoulders straight. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“What information led you to this building?”

“We received a tip from a courier. The message was sent anonymously. No investigation has yet been performed of the origin of the tip, but I will see to that next.”

“Officer Lavinia, are you aware that Beleren’s acquaintance, Emmara Tandris, was reported kidnapped that same night?”

“I am.”

“Are you aware that she is—or was—a dignitary of the Selesnya Conclave?”

“I—I was not, Your Honor.”

“Are you aware that some among the Selesnya are blaming this elf’s disappearance on inadequacies of security in the Tenth District?”

Lavinia sputtered, trying to form protesting words. The sphinx sat back on her haunches and adjusted her wings. Her unblinking eyes wandered away, taking in the rest of the chamber. Lavinia felt that she had lost the guildmaster’s interest in that moment.

“What of the Boros in this situation?” Isperia asked.

“Soon after we regrouped, the Boros Legion sent investigators of their own. As usual they demand control of the investigation, and as usual they have not submitted their request through the proper channels.”

“Let them handle the apprehension of Beleren.”

Lavinia froze. “Your Honor, I don’t understand.”

“My words were clear and true.”

“You’re—you’re giving this to the Boros? But they’ll just bungle this job. They’ll turn this into a street war, and they’ll never find the truth.”

“They may, however, find Beleren.”

Lavinia’s composure was lost. She looked around the chamber, trying to find some bell to ring, some door to slam. The scribe glanced up at her, without any more dialogue to transcribe, but when he saw her face he quickly turned his eyes back to his paper.

“I formally request to extend this investigation,” said Lavinia. “I will file the necessary writs.”

“Remind me,” said the sphinx. “Your jurisdiction covers?”

“The whole of the Tenth, Your Honor, and some portion of the outlying districts.”