10th District to the 2nd, Ravnica, Sunday Midafternoon through Evening (Fandom Time)

[deathsmajesty]

Liliana huffed a sigh looking at the sleeping form of her paramour, fondness and frustration both. "You are," she informed the tiny bat hanging from one of the canopy rails over her bed, "a most exasperating man and you will owe me a second vacation anywhere in the Multiverse that I care to claim it." She reached out and stroked a finger over his wings; Ignis twitched but didn't awaken; it was still far too early in the day for that.

Even with her original plans dashed - and hadn't that been a theme these last few weeks - in light of what she'd discovered in the book yesterday, it had become obvious that Ravnica was actually the best place she could be right now. She needed answers, she needed help, and she knew exactly where to turn to for both. And, as much as she hated to admit it, this errand was something best undertaken without her paramour's company. It was going to be a difficult enough interaction by itself, without the addition of a third person acting as an additional...complication.

"Keep an eye on him and make sure he has plenty of fruits to eat should he wake up before I have returned," Liliana told her zombie housemaid as she descended the stairs of her townhouse. "I'm heading out."

It was high time she paid a call to an old...friend. Jace Beleren, the Living Guildpact.

	In his apartments in the Hall of the Guildpact, Jace Beleren was desperately seeking coffee. After twelve hours of hearing petitioners, his bailiff Lavinia, had released him from his duties to get some rest, but he didn't have time for that. "Coffee," muttered Jace as he wandered through the shambles of his quarters. He was not the neatest man alive and he was too uncomfortable with the idea of servants to have someone come clean up after him. "The Living Guildpact rules that coffee is an acceptable substitution for rest, as specified in subsection...whatever." There was a knock at the door. Well, not really. But there was a knock on a door somewhere in the Seventh District, carried to his ears by the Izzet portal that linked his door to that one. And that was every bit as odd. He pulled his hood up around his face, gathered mana, and carefully approached the doorway, keeping a spell ready to dispel the portal if necessary. In the meantime, he cast a spell that would let him see what was on the other side. All of this paranoid preparation was probably unnecessary. It was probably just some confused citizen knocking on the wrong door down in the Seventh. At worst, it might be--
	Somewhere in the Seventh District, Liliana knocked on an anonymous wooden door. It was hard to spot if you didn't know where to look, hidden not by illusions from prying eyes, but cunning craftsmanship and an overhang that suggested that nothing was here but a shadowed wall. Clever. She held herself proudly, though her left foot tapped with irritated impatience. Her errand had taken her significantly longer than she'd anticipated and Jace's tardiness to answer the door was annoying. "Hurry up," she growled, knocking again.
	He gaped. Jace hadn't seen Liliana Vess since the day he'd realized she was playing him, and he'd skipped out on their rendezvous - after enduring mortal danger, the deaths of friends, and literal torture, all at least partially on her account. She was an amoral, self-serving death mage who'd sought him out on the orders of the dragon Planeswalker, Nicol Bolas. She was also the first real lover he'd ever had, and he'd tried, in the time since, not to pine for her. He knew better. The necromancer stood before an unmarked door miles away, unattended as far as he could tell, glancing from side to side occasionally, as though she was nervous. Or wary. Or betraying him. Again. He shouldn't answer it. Whether it was really her or not, it was almost certainly a trap - and even if she didn't have plans to betray him, again, life with Liliana had a way of turning to rot in a hurry. He knew better. He sighed, rendered himself invisible, and summoned an illusionary duplicate. The duplicate opened the door, with a telekinetic nudge from him. "Liliana?" he said, out of the duplicate's mouth, painting a surprised look on its face. "What are--"
	The door opened and Liliana stepped inside, casually walking right through the illusionary Jace and the portal itself, ending up not in the seedy Seventh District apartment the door led to, but the chambers of the Living Guildpact. A frustrating amount of running around only to end back up a few miles from her own townhouse. "Can I come in?" she said over her shoulder.
	Jace frowned, shoved the door shut, and dispelled his invisibility, his confused-looking illusionary double, and the teleportal for good measure. He hurried after her. "What if I said no?" "You didn't," she tossed over her shoulder. She looked exactly the same. But then, she would, wouldn't she? No less than four demonic contracts saw to that, etched in fell runes on her perfect skin. He'd always hated those etchings, tried not to-- not to touch them.
	Liliana kept walking, curious to see how long it would take Jace to pull himself together and stop her. His apartments were a mess of diagrams, projects in progress, and half-eaten meals. An illusionary depiction of a some kind of magic hedron hovered, its runes tauntingly undeciphered. Globes and maps of various planes were marked with pins showing locations of import. The horn of an Onakke ogre rested on a draft copy of some dull piece of Azorius legislation. She was nearly at the foot of one of the winding staircases by the time he hurried past her and got in her way. She looked past him, surveying the rest of his quarters. "Lovely place. Shame what you've done with it." Finally, she stopped glancing around to look him in the eye. And offered him a slow smile. "Hello, Jace."
	Jace was not accustomed to noticing people's eyes. He didn't need them to read intentions, and while he'd learned to look at people's eyes when he talked to them, he'd never really learned to pay attention to them. But Liliana's eyes he remembered, old and violet-gray and full of the promise of danger. He tried to hold her gaze now, but found he couldn't stand the memories that stirred up. His eyes finally settled on her nose, the only place he could find that didn't make him some manner of uncomfortable. "Nothing you can say will make me trust you," he said. "Not after you betrayed me."
	She rolled her eyes. Her scent hit him, something like mulberry and cedar, not the lavender and cinnamon he remembered. "You're the one who stood me up," she said. "Yes, after you betrayed me!" "That's ancient history," she said, picking up the Onakke horn and toying with it. "I'm not working for Bolas anymore, and I never meant you any harm."
	"And shall I verify that?" he asked, taking the horn from her and setting it down. "Or do you still have your little protective measures?" He had thought he'd read her mind when they first met, but she'd spoofed his telepathic abilities somehow. He had his suspicions, and the fact that she'd been secretly working for a millennia-old dragon archmage at the time was chief among them. She said nothing, but reached out, slowly, toward his face. Part of him wanted to flinch from her touch. Part of him wanted to do very much the opposite. He settled for holding still. But she did not touch him, only took the edge of his hood between two fingers and pushed it back. She appraised him for a moment.
	"You look older," she mused. "I'm not sure how to take that." "At your age, dear, it's an unambiguous compliment." She cocked her head. "Have you started combing your hair?"
	He smoothed his hair self-consciously, just for a moment, then withdrew his hand. He had, in fact, started combing it. Not that his hair was any of her business. He scowled. "I'm guessing," he said, "that you didn't go to the considerable trouble of finding me just to critique my appearance. So let's get to business. How did you find me, and who else knows?"
	She sighed theatrically. "I hired a very good spy at a very high price," she said. "And nobody else knows, because his corpse is currently shambling around the Seventh trying to find me." "Damn it!" he said. "You're talking about a Ravnican citizen." "Don't fret. I made sure he deserved it, just for you," she said. "He's got a file at New Prahv as long as your arm: murder, arson, theft, extortion—and plenty of awful stuff the Azorius don't even know about. I did your friends at the Senate a favor."
	"A warrant is supposed to lead to a trial," he snapped. "Not a summary execution! I have to think about that kind of thing now. I am the law - I literally am the Law. I - Damn it, why are you smiling?" "Lazlo Lipko." He sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. "Ooh, yeah, he's a real bastard."
	"Was," she said. Smirking.
	He sighed, biting back his own smile. And tried to convince himself it was only because of Lipko's well-deserved demise. "Fine. It's not like I've never worked outside the law, even as the Guildpact." They were still standing, slightly too close to each other, in his messy front room and he wasn't sure what to do about it. Close the distance? Step away? She'd been here three minutes and already had him admitting that he'd broken the very laws he'd sworn to uphold as the Guildpact and convinced him to overlook a murder.
	"Well?" she said, watching him internally argue with himself. He hadn't changed much at all in the intervening years. That was fair, neither had she. "Is the inquisition over?" "Not just yet," he said, pretending he hadn't startled at the sound of her voice. "What did you do to Garruk Wildspeaker?" "Oh," she said. Interesting. How did Jace know that name? "That." "That." "Can I at least sit down?"
	He shrugged and gestured to one of the high-backed chairs that surrounded his table, but she walked around the table and flopped onto his couch. He didn't like looming over her, but he didn't want to sit next to her, so he dragged a chair over from the table and sat. She stared at him expectantly. "Garruk," he prodded, still remember the last time he'd seen the lumbering man, rotting from the inside due to a necromantic curse. "Garruk." She frowned. "Not much to tell." "So tell it."
	"He attacked me," she said, with a shrug. "Twice. I won both times. I guess he's carrying a grudge." "No." She blinked those ancient violet eyes and arched a brow. "No?"
	"Tell me about the Chain Veil," said Jace.
	"Oh," she said, looking away. "That." The Chain Veil was exactly what she'd come here to talk to Jace about. Ignis was correct - she needed to know more about the mysterious artifact she wore at her hip. The whispers hadn't been as bad as they'd gotten on Monday, but they were still restive, ever-whispering. *...nurtured the root...strong enough...the vessel...* Shut up. An excellent example of why she needed his help, and yet, she'd be happier if Jace didn't realize she'd come to ask for it. And even moreso if he had no idea how little she knew about the Chain Veil at all, especially if it turned out he knew more than she did. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, waiting for her answer. "It'll be easier if you tell me what you already know," she said.
	"It'll be more informative if I don't." In fact he already knew a great deal about the Chain Veil, its properties, and Liliana's run-ins with Garruk. But he was curious how much she'd be willing to tell him. And he did, if he was being perfectly honest, enjoy watching her squirm.
	"Fine," she said. "It's a very powerful, very ancient artifact." "Evil, too," he interjected. "Enh," she said, rolling her eyes. Ugh, moral absolutism. "One of my demonic creditors sent me after it, as part of my servitude. I decided to use it to earn my freedom. The hard way."
	"You honestly think you can take on four demons--"
	"Two," she said. "What?" "Two down," she said, holding up two fingers and grinning. "Two to go."
	"Oh," he said. "That...changes things." "Doesn't it?" He'd intended, long ago, to help her find a way out of her contracts - to learn who she really was, beneath the desperation and the lies. But he'd gotten distracted with other things, chasing down answers to other questions, letting Liliana and her problems fall to the wayside. He supposed he'd always assumed that she'd still be waiting whenever he circled back to her. Now she was halfway out without his help...and mired in something that might be worse. "What did you do to Garruk?"
	"The Veil is cursed," she said. "It was created to turn someone into a vessel for the resurrection of a long-dead race. But that's too much power for one soul to bear. It kills its users if they're not strong enough, I think." "You think?" "What can I say? I've been so busy with all this demon-slaying, I haven't exactly had time to visit the library."
	"Fine," he said. "You don't seem dead." "Nope," she said. Her eyes twinkled. "I'm too strong." "You know what happens to the ones it doesn't kill, right?" He watched her face fall, possibly the first honest emotion she'd displayed since she'd walked in.
	"Yes," she said. "Demons." The Veil's power was overwhelming, and it transformed even its strongest wearers into monsters. The one piece of information she'd discovered since starting to look into the Chain Veil, learning of another Planeswalker named Ob Nixilis. A piece of information she hadn't - yet - shared with Ignis. "And that's what Garruk is becoming. Has become, maybe. But not you," Jace said flatly. "Not me," she said. "I don't know if it was my contracts or my necromancy. Or maybe I managed to pass the curse to him, right after I picked the thing up and he attacked me. Whatever the reason, he's the one turning into a monster. And I'm not. No more than I ever was, anyway."
	"Alright," he said. "You're still alive, you're still human, and you're down two demons. So what's the problem?"
	She arched an eyebrow. "Who said there's a problem?" she purred, the lie coming out of her mouth before she even thought about it. Liliana Vess didn't share her secrets well.
	"Liliana, what are you doing here?" "Can't I just drop by to see an old friend?" She pouted and he was annoyed by how much he wanted to smooth that pout away - and how he'd like to do it. "Stop it," he snapped. "We've been a lot of things, but we have never been friends, Lili." Silence, then. Her eyes hardened. "I--" "Don't," she snapped. He shut his mouth.
	She made an aggravated sound, dragging a hand down over her face and counted backwards from ten. "You're right," she said a moment later. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what you went through. I'm even sorry for what's happening to Garruk, if that will make you feel better." She flopped her head back on the pillow and sighed. "I don't know, Jace. I guess I was hoping we could..." She lifted her head. Her eyes held his. "...start over?"
	"Starting over is the first trick I learned," he said, forcing a smile. He lifted one hand and set it glowing, like it often did when he worked his mind magic. When he erased memories. "Just say the word..."
	"No," she said. "Not like that." She frowned and spread her hands in a helpless shrug. He had a hard time believing she was genuinely flustered, but she was putting on a convincing performance. "Just . . . this conversation, at least?" she said. "Start over?"
	"Well, it's too late to start with you not barging into my home." "Fair," she said. "So where do we start?" "How about with you apologizing for barging into my home?"
	Her demeanor shifted - demure and contrite, hands folded primly in her lap, expression carefully guarded. But her eyes were playful. "I'm so sorry to barge in on you like this," she said, with exaggerated propriety. "I was in town, and I just couldn't resist dropping by. I deeply regret the unpleasantness of our last encounter, and I hope we can make a fresh start."
	It was a game. Everything was a game with her, and he was tired of playing. He knew better. But if he didn't find out what she was up to, she would just get him into trouble some other way. And she wasn't the only one who could play games. "What a pleasant surprise!" he said. "It's delightful to see you again - not at all suspicious or unwelcome. What sort of fresh start did you have in mind?"
	She grinned wickedly. "Buy me dinner?" He snorted and she smiled serenely, very picture of innocence.
	"You're serious," he said, disbelieving. Of all the unmitigated gall... She grinned. "I'm always serious." More games. More deceptions. He knew better. He did. It just never seemed to matter when it came to Liliana Vess.

***
The pair strolled through Ravnica's fashionable Second District arm in arm. It was a warm evening, and the streets were busy.

"So what's it like?" asked Liliana. "Being the Guildpact?"

"Exhausting," said Jace. "Everyone wants a piece of you. You're pulled in ten different directions, all the time."

"Sounds terrible," said Liliana. "Four was bad enough. Hells, being pulled in any directions is more than bad enough."

"The guilds aren't my masters," said Jace. "More like...clients. I have more freedom now than I did when I was part of Tezzeret's Consortium, that's for sure."

"But you're not the king," said Liliana. "You don't make the law. You're bound by it."

He shrugged.

"I wouldn't want to be a king," he said. "But yes. It can be...confining."

"Sir!" said a round little woman holding a basket of roses. "Sir! Buy a flower for your girlfriend?"

"She's not my--" His denial came hard on the heel's Liliana's own, a sharp "I am not his."

"Say no more, sir, madam!" said the woman with a wink. "But a flower's always a fine gift for a lady."

"She's not a--" This time, Liliana didn't protest, but she did elbow him in the ribs. "Of course," said Jace. He handed the woman a zino, told her to keep the change, and presented the rose to Liliana with a flourish.

"Sir!" said the woman, already working the couple behind them. "Sir! A flower for your boyfriend there?"

Liliana took the flower delicately and stared at it. In moments, it withered and dried into a blackened husk, which she tucked into her raven hair.

"Do you ever get tired of being difficult?" he asked.

She flashed a dizzying grin. "Never."

	Milena's was one of the finest restaurants in the Second, seating by reservation only. Jace exchanged a few quiet words with the maître d'- an efficient, ratlike little man named Valko - and the Living Guildpact and his guest were escorted to a table for two out on the patio, complete with candles. "Good to know you're not above abusing your power," said Liliana, as Jace pulled her chair out for her.
	"I spend ten hours a day listening to zoning disputes and damage claims," said Jace, seating himself. "A table at a nice restaurant on short notice is the least this city can do in return." "And you have this kind of money?" asked Liliana, flipping through the menu. "They usually comp it," he said. He tried to sound embarrassed, mainly because he was. But being the Guildpact wasn't easy, and it wasn't safe, and he wasn't ashamed of taking advantage of the few perks of the office. Not very, anyway.
	"Of course," she agreed sweetly. "It's the least they can do." They ordered, and Liliana didn't hold back - not that he had he expected her to. A bottle of an expensive red Kasarda, Decamillennial vintage, rounded things out - Jace had tried to order irrimberry wine, and Liliana had quickly countermanded that - and he wove a quick spell of silence to give them some privacy. "This is a far cry from the dives we used to hide out in," said Liliana. "What was that awful little place called? The Bitter End?" She remembered the tavern perfectly.
	He raised a glass. "To leaving the past...in the past." It was the best defense he had against her.
	She took a sip, then set her glass down quickly. "I heard about what you did," she said. "Trying to stop Garruk." "Oh," he said. "That." "It was risky," she said. "I didn't think you'd do that for me."
	"I didn't do it for you," Jace said quickly. Too quickly. "Garruk's becoming a threat to every Planeswalker."
	"Listen to yourself," she said, shaking her head. "Jace Beleren, Defender of the Multiverse. You can't admit you're worried about me without pretending to be worried about literally everyone."
	"Should I be worried about you?" Anger clouded her face. She reached into the folds of skirt at her hip, and Jace spent a panicked half-second preparing a counterspell before he saw what she was doing. The thing she withdrew could only be the Chain Veil. A cacaphony of unintelligible whispers filled his head, just for a moment, until he tuned it out - whatever that was, it was her business, not his. Its links were a burnished gold and exquisitely crafted, so fine it appeared to have the texture of silk. It looked heavy, and it took on an unnatural gleam in the dim light of the restaurant. It was beautiful, and enticing, and dangerous. Just like its current bearer. His hand reached out, almost reflexively. She jerked the Veil back, out of his reach, a sudden and undignified movement. "Afraid I'll take it from you?" he asked with sardonic amusement.
	"Afraid of what it might do to you," she said quietly. "And anyway, you can't take it, even if I wanted you to. Do you understand yet? What it is?"
	Can't? Was it bonded to her somehow? Or did it just have its hooks into her that badly? He'd believe it, in either case. "I'm starting to," he said. The way the candlelight flickered off the thing was somehow sinister. "If you're not going to let me look at it, put it away," he said. "It makes my skin crawl."
	She tucked it away again. "Mine too," she whispered.
	"It sounds like maybe things aren't quite under control." He understood, now, why she'd come. Play on his emotions and his curiosity all at once. Herself in need, and a puzzle to be solved - two things she knew he'd have a hard time resisting. And maybe, just maybe, she was right. But he was going to make her ask.
	Her eyes were pools of darkness. She understood what he was doing, why he was doing it. And she hated it, even though she would likely do the same in his shoes. If it were just herself, she might have refused. But it wasn't just her anymore. She could feel Ignis' watchful concern, the way he carefully moved his hands so he wouldn't have to touch the Chain Veil when it rested against her hip. Or maybe she would have anyway, and Ignis' worry was just a shield for her wounded pride. "Jace, I..."
	There was a commotion at the front of the restaurant, where the patio opened onto the street. Jace turned sharply, ready to cast any of half a dozen protective spells, and Liliana's hands were suddenly purple with spells of a much darker purpose. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood in the street, arguing with Valko. He wore armor, hard-used but well-maintained, and he was covered in blood and dirt and some unidentifiable muck. He pointed toward Jace. He was toward the edge of Jace's easy telepathic range, but a combination of lip-reading and surface thoughts told Jace what the man was saying: I need to speak to the Guildpact.
	He flashed a Boros insignia, pushed past the flustered maître d', and walked up to their table. He was quite a bit taller than Jace, with tawny skin but strikingly bright eyes. "Jace Beleren," he said. "I need your help." The man matched the description of a Planeswalker Jace had heard about, one who was planeswalking on and off of Ravnica with unusual regularity. Valko hurried up behind the man. "Guildpact," said Valko. "I'm so sorry. He says it's guild business—" "No I didn't," said the man. "I just showed you my badge."
	"I'm off-duty," said Jace. Planeswalker or no, this man's troubles weren't Jace's to solve. "Come to the Hall of the Guildpact in the morning and get on the docket, and in a few days--"
	"It's about a place called Zendikar," said the man.
	"Sir," said Valko. "Whatever your business, your attire is entirely unacceptable. I must insist—" "He can stay," said Jace. "If you're worried about appearances, I'll slip an invisibility spell over this whole table." "That," said Valko with endless wells of patience, "will make it exceedingly difficult to bring you your dinner, sir."
	"It won't cover the smell, either," said Liliana, who was doing an excellent impression of a woman who had swallowed a nail. "I'll make it up to you," said Jace, and shooed Valko away. Liliana coughed, pointedly, since Valko wasn't the person most put out by this hulking man's sudden appearance. He was like if Gladio had fewer charms and fewer showers. Though at least he was wearing a shirt, so that was one...five hundredth of a point in his favor.
	"My name is Gideon," said the man. He glanced at Liliana. "She knows about us," said Jace. "She's one of us. Have a seat." "I'd rather stand," said Gideon.
	Jace stood up. It was an error. He still had to crane his neck to look Gideon in the eye, and now the size difference between them was glaringly obvious. He hated feeling small. Hated it. "Now that you've thoroughly ruined my evening," said Jace, "how about you get to the point?"
	Gideon's eyes narrowed. "Have you actually been to Zendikar?" "Yes," said Jace. "It didn't go well." "Sea Gate has fallen." "What?" said Jace, all thoughts of height disparities lost. "When? How?" "Hours ago," said Gideon. "Maybe less. I left before it was over, but the place was doomed. And as for how...What do you know of the Eldrazi?"
	"They'd just emerged when I was last there. I saw one, shortly before I left," said Jace. 'Saw one,' that was one way to put it. 'Inadvertently released them from millennia of imprisonment to terrorize Zendikar,' that was another. Jace wondered if Gideon knew. "I know some scholars at Sea Gate. Any word of them?"
	"Their archives were lost," said Gideon. "That's why I came to find you. They were close to some kind of breakthrough with the hedrons, something that could fight the Eldrazi. And you have a reputation for solving puzzles." A quick dive into the man's mind confirmed that he was telling the truth. "The hedron network?" said Jace. "What kind of breakthrough?" "I don't know," said Gideon. "They called it the 'puzzle of leylines,' and they believe it’s connected to the Eldrazi. Will you come with me and solve it?"
	"Leylines!" said Jace. His first instinct was to reach for his notes, but of course they were back at his apartments. "I'd never tied the hedrons to leylines. That has . . . implications." He rubbed his forehead. The Eldrazi were his responsibility, in a way. He'd spent some time since then researching them, researching the hedrons. But he had so many other responsibilities!
	"If you know Zendikar, and you've seen the Eldrazi, then you know how serious this is," said Gideon. "I know you'll do the right thing."
	Liliana drained her glass, shoved her chair back, and walked past Jace. "Lili, wait—" She kept walking, shoulders tightening at the use of that nickname.
	"Give me a minute," he said to Gideon. He ran after her, matched her pace until they were out of the restaurant proper. He knew better than to try to grab her arm - that was a good way to end up at the healer's. And she wouldn't even need to use magic for it. "Liliana!"
	She stopped and faced him, eyes bright with rage. "I seek you out after all this time," she said. "I open up to you. And now, after all we've been through together, you're ready to walk off with some undercooked side of beef from Sunhome, just because he asked?"
	"What's happening on Zendikar..." he said. "It's my fault. Sort of. It was unintentional, and I suspect I was manipulated, but the fact remains, those Eldrazi things are loose because I walked into something without understanding it."
	Classic Jace, feeling guilty while attempting to squirm out of blame. "So now you're going to dive right back in," she said. "What are you waiting for?" "You could come with us," he said. "Excuse me?"
	"Come with us," said Jace. "Put your skills to use fighting some actual monsters. Maybe you can make an ally of this Gideon guy."
	"No," said Liliana. "Some of us don't go borrowing trouble when we already have more than enough."
	"I'm not leaving until morning," said Jace. "Think it over. Come to the Hall if you change your mind." "No." "You could wait for me on Ravnica, then," said Jace. "Whatever research he needs me to do, it won't take long. I'll come back. We can continue our conversation. And if you ever get around to telling me why you're here, we can talk about what happens next."
	"You're out of your mind," she said. "I've got demons to kill." She wasn't a do-gooder, to drop everything and race to a different plane to throw herself in between it and danger. Perhaps once, when she'd been truly immortal but now? Absurdity. Did he really think she was going to jeopardize everything she'd gotten from her demonic creditors when she was so close to freeing herself of them?
	"Fine," said Jace. "Good luck with that. And Liliana?" She waited. "He asked."
	She plucked the dead rose out of her hair and tossed it as his feet, then turned on her heel and walked away.
	Jace bent to pick up the withered flower as Gideon's heavy footfalls approached behind him. "Finished?" said Gideon. Jace turned, ready to snap at him, but Gideon's face was so earnest, and so haggard, that Jace couldn't muster the anger. Liliana was bad news anyway. He knew better.
	Gideon glanced at the withered rose that Jace was still playing through his fingers. "Do I have your full attention?"
	"Of course," said Jace. "Tell me everything you know." He dropped the dead rose on the cobblestones and fell in beside Gideon. He knew better.

[Adapted, spindled, and mutilated from "Catching Up," by Kelly Digges. NFI, NFB, OOC is love. Don't mind me just setting up for some future shenanigans.]