“People,” Mari said. “In bed together. Something special about that.”
“Are you serious?” Alain thought, then again shook his head. “No. Nothing. No one ever said anything about that. We were told that sex was but a physical act and no emotion must connect to it.”
“Really?” Mari asked. “Maybe a female Mage would know. I’ll ask Asha the next time we see her.”
“Mari, I must ask again if you are serious?”
“Yes. Alain, I’m afraid this is something you just don’t understand.”
Alain lay back again, staring at the ceiling. “I am certainly not going to argue that,” he murmured under his breath.
“I heard that!”
Alain raised his hand to gaze at the ring there. It had not caused any physical changes in him that he knew of, but Mari’s ring seemed to have given her extraordinarily good hearing. He wondered if they only had that effect on Mechanics, or if all women gained that ability along with their rings.
“Alain?”
“Yes, Mari?”
“Would you have done it?”
Alain took a moment to ponder what that could refer to. “What do you mean?”
“What those people did, the ones who gave their unborn children to the ship.” He heard her sigh. “They would never see those children, and those children would never know their parents. They would grow up so unimaginably far away, and they wouldn’t even be born until long after their parents had died. That would be so hard. But those children would someday walk the soil of another world, one warmed by a different sun, and they’d see and experience things their parents couldn’t even imagine. And those people knew that someday their children and grandchildren and so on would live on that world and make it their own. So I can’t decide.”
Alain lay silent for a little while, thinking about it. “I do not know. As you say, it would not be an easy choice.”
“No. It would be very, very hard. I guess I’m lucky we’ll never face that choice. I have a feeling that having children will require enough difficult decisions as it is.”
Alain felt a curious blend of wonder and fear fill him. He could not see her expression well in the dark, but Mari’s comments reminded him of her statements about children earlier that day, her actions when she had heard about the passengers on the great ship, as if she were protecting something inside her. “Mari? Are you trying to tell me something?”
“What do you think I’m trying to tell you?”
“This talk of children…”
“Well, we have to think about it, Alain.”
“But…”
“You seemed upset when the librarians and I were talking about the passengers on the ship.” Mari rose up on one elbow and gazed at him. “Does having children scare you? Do you not want children? You never said that before.”
Alain stared back at her, feeling his questions crystallize into near certainty at the upset sound in her voice. “I want children. I do. But I thought that would be later, when the risks to us were much lower.”
“That’s right,” Mari said.
“But, you keep talking about…acting as if…” Alain was having trouble getting the words to come out, something that he found perplexing. “Mari, are you…?”
“Am I what? Am I sure?”
“No.” Neither his Mage training nor his time with Mari had prepared him for this. “Are you expecting a child?”
“Am I what? Stars above, no! I need a few more years of life under my belt before I’ll be ready to handle raising children, especially if ours have any combination of your personality and mine.. I’d also like a little better assurance that I’ll even be alive a few years from now before I take on responsibility for a new life.” Mari suddenly laughed. “Was I trying to tell you something! I had you worried, didn’t I?”
“A little,” Alain admitted.
“ ‘A little’? I’ll bet you were terrified! Oh, now I understand! No wonder you got so nervous! You thought—!” Mari laughed some more, and even after she fell asleep Alain suspected Mari still had a smile on her face.
But he lay awake a while longer, gazing up through the window at the stars filling the night sky, feeling relieved but also, in some strange way, disappointed.
#
The next few days passed slowly. Mari kept fidgeting, knowing that Alli would have begun looking for them to return to the city but would be waiting in vain each evening. The mysterious special Mechanics would have arrived in Altis by now. What would they be doing? Had either the Mechanics Guild or the Mage Guild figured out that Mari and Alain were on this island? As Captain Patila had warned, there was only one good way out of Altis, via the city and the port, and Mari wanted to be gone before that path was blocked. Her most important questions had been answered, but the librarians needed time to copy the texts she had brought even with all of them working at full speed on the project. She couldn’t complain about the food, since the librarians kept offering the best their small farms could provide, and the sleeping room was quite comfortable except for the ever-present possibility that some kind of device would begin making a record of her actions without her knowledge.
But there was so much to do, and she had no way of knowing how much time was left to do it. “I’m worried about Alli,” Mari informed Alain.
“She seemed very capable,” he commented.
“Of course she is! But so am I, and I wouldn’t have lasted nearly this long if not for having you around.” Mari frowned, looking out the window and down across the valley. “You know, that’s important.”
“I am glad you think so.”
“Stop it. I’m serious.” She turned to look at him. “It’s like we found out at Ringhmon. Something that would have trapped or killed one of us, the other could get through. Working together, we could overcome any threat. That’s personally important to us, but I’m wondering about these purges in the Mechanics Guild that have happened every now and then, according to what Alli’s friend found out and what the librarians say. There must have been Mechanics like me before, people who were willing to risk themselves for what was right. But they always must have failed.”
“They were not the daughter,” Alain said.
“How do we know that?” Mari asked. “How do we know that I’m not just the latest daughter? That there haven’t been others, now and then in the centuries since Jules died, but those others never made it this far?”
Alain considered her words before replying. “That is possible. A daughter of Jules, the prophecy says. Not the daughter. It could be read to mean that there would be more than one, though eventually only one would succeed. You think the others, if they were fated for the same role, failed because they had only Mechanic skills?”
“Yes.” Mari sat down next to Alain. “I've asked the librarians if they have any record of people who could have been earlier daughters, but they can't find anything. If those daughters died right away, as I would have at Ringhmon, who would have heard about them? They would have been gone before they could accomplish anything, just like I would have if not for you. You’re the wild card, the random variable that Mechanic traps can’t hold. And because you’re with me, I’ve been able to escape that fate. That’s what may be different this time. You. It’s not just the daughter.”
He shook his head. “What is different is you and me, because I would not have survived alone, either. Yes, with my help you escaped the Mechanic ship, but I would have died in the Northern Ramparts long before that if not for you.”
“You and me.” She thought about that and liked it. “A team. Individually, we’d both be long dead. Together, maybe we can finally change the world. Maybe that’s what the world has been waiting for, what the prophecy really required. A Mechanic and a Mage who would work together to make things right.”
#
They stood at the point in the valley where the path back toward Altis began.
Coleen the librarian hesitated, then offered her hand. “We’re not supposed to take sides,
but good luck anyway. May you find success in your efforts and may your life be a good one.”
“Thank you.” Mari gave her most sincere smile back. “But we’ll meet again. Alain and I will return some day, just like I said.” She swung her arm and pointed toward the base of the tower. “Some day I’ll come back with a generator, and we’ll power up that far-talker you’ve got, the one that talks to the stars, and we’ll see who answers when we call.”
Coleen’s eyes shone. “That would be a marvelous thing. What would we say, Lady Mari? What would we say to them?”
Mari grinned. “First off, we’d have to apologize for taking so long to get in touch.”
#
The journey back was much easier; they took the librarians’ path the entire way. The path proved to be cleverly routed, not only concealed but also containing a couple of breaks where it seemed to come to a halt. In each case, only the guidance they had received from the librarians allowed Mari and Alain to spot the relatively easy but difficult-looking route to meet up with the next stretch of the path. At its end, the path let out through a maze of broken stone into a pass which in turn led to one of the finger valleys that led into the city of Altis.
By the time they reached the city proper on their second day after leaving the librarians’ tower, the sun had long since sunk behind the mountains to the west and the streets of Altis were dark. “Let’s eat something fast and find a place to sleep,” Mari suggested. “It’s too late to meet Alli tonight.”
Alain agreed, and after cramming down a meal from a street cart which was about to shut down for the night, they found a decent though far from fancy hostel. The only room available was on the second floor, but that suited them. Once inside the room, Mari sighed and hugged Alain. “Hey, nice room, nice bed, no ancient recording devices. It’s really late, and I’m really tired, but we can still try to have some fun tonight.”
Alain held her tightly. “That would be nice. I wish we were not so tired.”
“If wishes were horses…what’s the rest of that saying, anyway? There’d be a lot more horses around?”
Alain didn’t answer, his grip tightening on her.
Mari winced. “Ouch. Careful, lover. I’ve got a lot of sore muscles.”
“Danger,” Alain murmured.
She got it then, stepping silently from Alain’s grasp and gliding over to the room’s window to look out and down. The scene outside was mostly of the alley beside the hostel, but a strip of the street could be seen past the crates stacked near the alley’s entrance. The street was dimly lit this late in the evening. She saw a couple of people walking by in the weary manner of those just trying to get home for the night. A horse-drawn wagon rolled past slowly, the hollow clopping of hooves sounding strangely threatening. “I don’t see anything out here,” Mari whispered.
Alain shook his head. “My foresight warns of danger outside the window.” He pointed toward the door. “And there. I do not know what.”
Mari drew her pistol, carefully and quietly chambering a round and letting off the safety, then walking on cat’s feet to the door. Kneeling, she peered under it and saw nothing. Standing again, Mari listened intently. She heard nothing, and yet that very silence felt dangerous in some inexplicable way. Mari reached for the door handle, turning it carefully, then with infinite care eased the door open very cautiously, her pistol aimed at the gap as it opened. Nothing was visible in the barely lit hallway outside the room. Mari waited, breathing shallowly, then suddenly swung out as fast as she could and stared toward the stairs.
Easily half a dozen people were stealthily coming down the hall, carrying rifles, their Mechanics jackets a deeper dark against the night. They froze as they saw Mari, then charged toward her, raising their weapons as they came.
Chapter Fifteen
Mari swung herself back inside with haste borne of panic and slammed the door shut, locking it. “Mechanics!” she hissed at Alain.
Alain had his pack on and tossed hers to Mari. She was backing toward the window, her pistol pointed at the door, as Alain threw the shutters open wide.
Thunder sounded in the hall outside and holes appeared in the door. If she had been standing at the door, those holes would be in her now. Mari stumbled back, hitting the window sill with her thighs and falling backwards out the window. She bumped into Alain, who had reached the fire escape ladder and grabbed at her to keep Mari from falling to the alley below.
The door to their room crashed open. “Go!” Mari yelled, getting her feet under her and pushing Alain. He jumped, grasping at the ladder as he fell, but missed a hold and dropped too far too fast, hitting hard and lying unmoving on the floor of the alley.
Mari, feeling tears of rage starting, stood in the window and emptied her pistol, firing as fast as possible into the figures crowding through the door. Some fell and others scuttled backwards under the furious barrage. Mari ejected the spent clip, her mind numb, and loaded another. She jumped to the ladder and dropped down it so fast her stomach knotted.
She landed near Alain and scrambled to his side, kneeling to check him with her heart in her mouth. He was breathing but seemed to have been knocked out by the fall.
A bullet snapped by so close that the wind of its passage ruffled her hair. Snarling, Mari spun and fired back, holding her ground with Alain lying helpless beside her.
Bullets kept coming at her. The crates and boxes at the entrance to the alley were masking several Mechanics with rifles, and those Mechanics were far better fighters than the usual Mechanic who had been handed a weapon and pushed into using it. These Mechanics used cover well, constantly popping up to snap dismayingly well-aimed shots at her.
Mari knelt on one knee next to Alain, using both hands to steady her pistol, aiming carefully despite her growing fear, aiming and firing at an arm behind that crate, aiming and firing at a flicker of clothing behind that wall, aiming and firing at a muzzle flash as a rifle fired. A shot struck the wall near her, spraying her with fragments of brick dust, and Mari felt a thrill of pure terror. She had only a few shots left in this clip, and she knew with ugly certainty that the instant she stopped firing those Mechanics at the end of the alley would rise up and aim carefully and she would feel their bullets slamming into her and all of her running and planning would be over and the daughter would have failed and the world would fall into chaos. But Alain was lying there helpless so there was nothing else she could do, absolutely nothing else she would do, and so Mari knelt and aimed and fired and waited for that last bullet which was surely only one or two away now.
Her latest shot knocked splinters from a crate. She heard a howl of pain from someone hidden behind it, then the slide on Mari’s pistol stayed back, signaling the clip was empty. Everything felt as if it were happening in very slow motion as Mari began to scramble up and backwards, trying to draw fire away from Alain and fumbling for a new clip as she saw Mechanics standing up and raising their rifles toward her.
The crates between Mari and the Mechanics exploded into flame, dazzling her sight and that of the attacking Mechanics, and Alain was standing up beside her and pulling her to one side and through a hole where a solid wall had been.
Mari lay in the semi-darkness of a large room, quivering with reaction, unable to move. Her mind kept insisting that she had to be dead now, even though she could hear the muffled sound of shots on the other side of the wall as the Mechanics at the end of the alley blindly fired into the area where she had been only a moment before.
Alain, staggering with exhaustion from the effort of deploying the two spells close together, was trying to pull her up. “Mari! We have to run!”
Mari stared blankly up at him for a moment as she slowly absorbed the fact that Alain had recovered in time to save both of them. Her mind suddenly kicked into gear and she got her feet under her, wavering under the weight of her pack for a moment and wishing for the umpteenth time that she could just dump the thing but knowing that she couldn’t. “I love you,” she gasped. “Remind me
to tell my mother how nice it is to have a husband who can hurl fire and walk through walls.”
Alain urged her forward, stumbling as he went. “I need time to recover from that and from whatever knocked me out.”
“You’ll get it,” Mari vowed, ramming another clip into her pistol and letting the slide rock forward to load a round. “I don’t care what happens to me. They don’t get you.”
“You should have run and left me. I would be angry, except for the fact that I know you are even more stubborn than I am.”
Mari fought down a wave of giddiness born of her unexpected survival. “You’re only allowed to be stubborn when I say so, Mage. Remember that.”
“Is this another rule of marriage?” Alain reached a doorway and leaning against it while he peered into the darkened room ahead, his Mage knife ready in one hand.
“Yes. I’ll try to keep you informed as I come up with them. You pulled me to the right, didn't you? We must be in the building across the alley from the hostel.” Mari crouched and went past Alain into the room, holding her pistol at ready. The room stretched a short distance, ending in large windows facing the street. Shelves packed with clothing and other goods could be dimly seen. “It’s a store of some kind.” She paused. “All right. We’re fighting Mechanics. They don’t believe Mages can actually walk through solid walls, and they would have been temporarily blinded when you set fire to those crates. So they’ve got to believe that we somehow made it down the alley and over the fence at the back end. They’ll be searching for us in that direction. If my orientation is right, those windows we see face on a street to the front, the opposite from that.”
Alain nodded heavily, his tiredness showing in his movements. “Can you get us out to the street?”
“Probably.” They scuttled through the store, keeping below the level of the shelves, until they were close enough for Mari to see through the windows. She crawled carefully forward, peering out. “Lots of lights to our left. That’d be at the hostel. People out there, some obviously city guard. I see some Mechanics jackets moving through the crowd. Most of the people seem to be bystanders, though, commons attracted by the noise.”