Magic the Gathering: Planeswalker (Artifacts Cycle, Book 2)

By Lynn Abbey

The warfare among Urza and Mishra is over. Brooding at the dying of his brother by the hands of extraplanar forces, Urza drifts one of the planes.

But the tip of the Brother's battle has remodeled him into whatever better. Deep inside of his center, a spark has been kindled to a flame that can't be quenched.

Urza has turn into a planeswalker.

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So, you opt: them or me. " It was once a similar ominous, otherworldly tone Xantcha had used with Garve and Tucktah. She cocked the sword a moment time, and Rat grabbed the hilt. He could not run, so he skipped and hopped towards the gate. "Lose the scabbard! " Xantcha shouted after him then muttered Phyrexian curses as Rat stumbled during the gate brandishing a scabbarded sword. Rat was once a idiot, and fools deserved no matter what damage passed off them, yet Xantcha's anger light once her nemesis was once out of sight. She reached into her belt-pouch and fingersorted many of the smallest, blackest cash. Then, with them clutched loosely in her hand, she yawned out Urza's armor and Rat into the besieged village. no longer being a sorcerer wasn't really almost like no longer having any sorcerous tips in her arsenal, and never being a warrior used to be a press release of choice, now not adventure. There were not many guns Xantcha did not know the way to take advantage of or stay away from. On different worlds she'd often carried numerous of them. yet now not on Dominaria. She'd given her notice. "I recognize your temper," Urza had acknowledged once they arrived. "But this is often home-my domestic. My touring years are over. i am by no means leaving Dominaria, and that i don't desire you beginning brawls and drawing recognition to your self ... or me. Promise me you are going to remain out of hassle. Promise me that you will stroll away instead of begin a struggle. " "Waste no longer, wish not-I didn't begin this, Urza. actually, i didn't. " A gutted corpse lay one step in the gate, however it wasn't Rat's. Xantcha leapt over it. a guy bearing a bloody knife ran out of a burning cottage on her left. She slipped a coin into her throwing hand, then stayed her arm as a moment, equally armed, guy burst out of the cottage. Villagers or Shratta thugs? was once one chasing the opposite? have been they either fleeing? Or searching for extra sufferers? Xantcha could not inform by way of their outfits or demeanour. Few issues have been extra tricky or risky than barging right into a brawl between strangers. After cursing Rat to the 7th Sphere of Phyrexia, she entered the cottage the lads had deserted. The one-room residing used to be choked with smoke. Xantcha referred to as Rat's identify and received no solution. again at the village's unmarried road, she headed for the biggest development she may see and had taken approximately ten strides while an arrow struck her shoulder. Urza's armor was once pretty much as good as granite while it got here to arrows. The shaft splintered, and the arrowhead slid harmlessly down her again. in a single delicate circulation, Xantcha spun round and hurled a small, black coin at a fleeing archer. The coin started to glow once it left her hand. It was once white-hot by the point it struck the archer's neck. He was once useless earlier than he hit the floor, with thick, greenish-black fumes emerging from the deadly wound. A swordsman attacked Xantcha subsequent. He knocked her down along with his first assault yet used to be unnerved while she sprang up, unbloodied. Xantcha parried his subsequent strike along with her forearm as she closed in to kick him as soon as within the abdominal and a moment time, as he crumbled, to the jaw. She paused to select up the sword, then persevered down the road shouting Rat's identify, attracting cognizance.

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