“I do not think so, not until the daughter has more fully revealed herself.”
“Revealed herself?” Mari asked. “Revealed herself?” With every word spoken the conversation was getting harder for her to listen to.
“Openly proclaim who you are,” Mage Asha said.
“Not going to happen,” Mari said.
“But it must,” Alain said.
“No.” Mari glowered at him. “I will find whatever answers that tower on Altis holds. I will use the banned Mechanics Guild technology to change this world. I will do everything I can to stop that chaos storm. And I will do my best to stay alive while doing all of that. But I will not stand up in front of the world and say look at how special I am, everybody!”
Alain looked at Asha. Asha looked back. “She is a Mechanic?”
“She is,” Alain confirmed.
“All Mechanics believe they are special.” Asha looked seriously perplexed, which meant even an average person might have seen it in her expression. “Even the Mage Guild says that Mari is special, not like the other shadows. But she does not?”
“No. Mari often denies—”
“Will you two stop talking as if I’m not here?” Mari demanded. “Exactly what have I done that is so special?”
“You have slain two dragons,” Alain said. “Few ever slay even one.”
“You have helped Mage Alain to find a new wisdom,” Asha said. “And perhaps you shall show me that path as well.”
“You have a general sworn to your service,” Alain added. “As well as at least two other Mechanics, the one named Calu and your elder S’san. And a Mage who follows you.”
“Two Mages,” Asha said.
“You have entered and escaped from Marandur,” Alain said. “And you told me you were the youngest ever to become a full Mechanic and the youngest ever to become a Master Mechanic.”
Mari stared at them. “All right. That…might…sound…a little…special. But that doesn’t make me better than anyone else. I just have a…bigger job to do. A much bigger job. And to answer the earlier question more specifically, the last thing I need to do is give the Empire any more reasons to get their hands on me and Alain. So, no revealing.”
Asha studied Mari for a few moments before speaking again. “Why does the Empire already seek you? Is it because of the prophecy again?”
“I hope not,” Mari said. “Unless your Guild told them, they shouldn’t know.”
“The Mage Guild does not want to give hope to the shadows it treats as nothing,” Asha said.
“However,” Mari said, reluctant to admit the truth, “Alain and I both are under death sentences from the Empire. Because we went to Marandur.” She whispered it, not wanting to risk being overheard.
“Marandur. Mage Alain spoke of this,” Asha said. “Why?”
“There was something important there,” Mari said. “It’s hard to explain to a Mage, because you do things so differently from Mechanics. Basically, I think the Mechanics Guild doesn’t believe in the prophecy of the daughter either, because the Senior Mechanics who run it can’t conceive that anyone could overcome the Mechanics Guild. The same as you said the Mage elders are thinking. And the Senior Mechanics are right that defeating them would be impossible if I only had access to the same tools that they have. But I found—that is, Alain and I found—ways to build new Mechanic tools. Tools that will give us a chance to defeat the Mechanics Guild.”
“Tools?” Asha asked.
“They are like Mage spells,” Alain explained.
“No,” Mari said. “Tools aren’t spells. Tools are how we make spells. Did I just say that? It’s a good thing Professor S’san didn’t hear me. Anyway, it’s things like semi-automatic rifles, assembly lines, better far-talkers, food preservation, medical equipment, better steam propulsion systems. That kind of thing.” Asha was staring back at her blankly. “Better weapons, better ways to make them, better ways to talk over long distances, better ways to do everything.”
Mari frowned as she thought about her last statement. “That’s not true. Even with the new Mechanic knowledge I found, all of the technology in those forbidden texts, I couldn’t do what Mages do.”
“Wisdom from a Mechanic,” Asha murmured. “She is special,” Asha told Alain.
“Yes,” Alain agreed. “She is.”
“You’re doing it again,” Mari said. “I’m still here and part of this conversation. Alain is special, too, you know,” she added.
“Mage Alain.” Asha looked at him, her eyes revealing some deep emotion. “I learned something more concerning you. By what elders have told me, and by what they did not say, I have learned that Mage Alain was to be humiliated by failure on his first contract. If he also died, that would have been a matter of welcome to the elders.”
“Do you mean Alain was set up, too?” Mari demanded. “The Mage Guild knew he was going to run into serious trouble?”
“The elders at Ringhmon knew more of the plans of the shadows there than they revealed to Mage Alain,” Asha continued. “They were not surprised that the caravan he guarded was attacked, nor that the attack was so powerful as to be beyond any Mage’s ability to counter. They did not expect him to survive, believing that either in the attack or afterwards, alone in the waste, he would die.”
Mari stared at Asha, aghast, but Alain simply nodded, his expression perfectly calm. She could see him withdrawing a bit into his Mage state to deal with the ugly news.
“This explains much,” Alain said tonelessly. “I wondered why the elders in Ringhmon were unconcerned with the fate of the caravan but acted much distressed over my arrival. All of their questions centered on the Mechanic who had accompanied me in escaping the ambush and the desert waste.”
“Just so,” Asha said. “She had not been anticipated. This also I learned, Mage Alain. Your suspicions regarding the attack in Imperial territory were correct. The plan was again that you should fail in your task, and this time surely die in the process. Your fate would not be left to the efforts of commons or chance. Some Mages would be ordered to ensure you did not escape, and if possible the common military force that you accompanied would be eliminated completely, leaving no witnesses and ensuring the magnitude of your failure would be as great as possible.”
“I had wondered why so many Mages were in the force that attacked the Alexdrian soldiers, and how those Mages could have known so surely where I and the Alexdrians would be,” Alain said. “If not for Mari's arrival, I would surely have 'failed' again just as the elders planned. But I was ordered to the Free Cities from Dorcastle. Do you say the plan had already been decided upon at that time?”
“Yes, Mage Alain, your fate had already been decided before you left Dorcastle.” Asha paused. “I was able to learn much because the elders themselves are asking many questions, and in the questions asked, answers can be found. The elders do not understand how you escaped the dragon in the north. They know no single Mage could have defeated that spell creature, nor any force of commons.” Her eyes went to Mari. “The elders do not even consider the possibility that one of the toys of the Mechanics could have accounted for the dragon.”
Mari, stunned by what she had been hearing, managed to nod. “They’re partly right. If my friend Alli hadn’t designed those special weapons, I couldn’t have nailed that dragon.”
Alain had let some puzzlement show. “Could you learn why this decision was made, Mage Asha? To humiliate me and see my death before ever I met Mari? I had assumed my errors after coming to know Mari had led to the decision that I must be eliminated as a threat to the Guild.”
“I cannot be certain,” Asha said. “But the elders do now openly declare you to be in error, ensnared by the wiles of a seductive young female Mechanic whose charms you could not resist.”
“Oh, give me a break!” Mari burst out. “Just who is this irresistible, seductive young female Mechanic?”
“You have ensnared me,” Alain pointed out.
Not in the mood for
joking about that, Mari glared at him so strongly that Alain visibly flinched. “Any time you want to be free of my snare all you have to do is ask, Mage Alain. Did you learn anything else, Asha?”
“Yes,” Asha replied. “Mage Alain, you are not the youngest ever to have been declared a Mage. A century ago, one was declared a Mage at the age of sixteen. She died before she became seventeen, in a failed contract. The records say she had neither the experience nor the skills of a Mage, despite having been declared so by several elders at the Mage Hall in Cathlan. Forty years before that, one gained Mage status at twelve. He died at the age of thirteen, also on a failed contract, and also because of a lack of skills and experience, the records say. I suspect that the records lie. I found records of a few other young Mages who did not die, but failed in major tasks and were returned to acolyte status.”
“That’s an interesting and disturbing pattern,” Mari agreed.
“Why?” Alain asked. “Why must young Mages die, Mage Asha? Could you learn that?”
“No one admitted to deliberately seeking the elimination or discrediting of those judged too young. You know what we were taught: that skill and wisdom alone determine whether one can be a Mage. No physical issue such as age should have any bearing on the matter, for all is illusion,” Asha explained. “Instead, I was told, sometimes those given Mage status are unwilling to accept guidance from their elders and thus lack sufficient wisdom. Sometimes they have yet to become themselves, their nature still in flux. Sometimes they are more prone to feelings, lacking enough self-control.”
“How could those arguments be aimed at me or other young Mages?” Alain asked.
“Focus not on the illusion of the words but on what they conceal,” Asha advised. “Turn those points about and you see what the elders reject. Who questions the wisdom of elders, Mage Alain? The young. Who changes the most in a short time as they age? The young. Who feels the changes of the body the most strongly as it grows, making self-control indeed more difficult? The young. Unpredictable. Questioning. Prey to the emotions given extra strength by the changes in their bodies.” Asha shook her head. “You, like other Mages deemed too young, were judged too likely to err, too likely to seek new answers, too likely to challenge the elders. And this is what you have done, though perhaps that only happened under the force of the elders’ attempts to eliminate you.”
“Self-fulfilling prophecies,” Mari said, seeing both Mages turn questioning looks upon her. “That’s a saying for when you create the conditions that make a prediction come true. Your elders said that young Mages would fail, and then set them up to fail. Your elders believed that Alain would deviate from what they call wisdom, and they forced him into circumstances in which he did just that. So they were correct, because they did things to make themselves be correct.”
Alain nodded to Mari. “Wisdom which justifies itself.”
“But why not just admit those concerns?” Mari asked. “Why not say you need a certain level of maturity before you can be a Mage, whether it’s true or not? My Guild has done that, setting experience requirements in place that mean in the future no one else can be promoted as fast as I was, regardless of how well they master Mechanic arts.”
This time Alain shook his head. “The elders cannot admit such a thing. As Asha said, a fundamental aspect of the wisdom they teach is that the physical is irrelevant. Nothing is real.”
“Wow,” Mari commented. “We’ve gone days without you saying nothing is real, and I haven’t missed it at all.”
“But it is so by the wisdom Mages are taught,” Alain said. “If nothing is real, to say that the physical body in fact creates conditions which prevent anyone from being a Mage would be to undermine much of what they teach.”
“As Mage Alain said in Severun,” Asha added, “the wisdom we were taught is lacking. The elders should examine where the errors lie and make changes, but instead they cling to what they know.”
Mari couldn’t help a short, sardonic laugh. “Just like what Professor S’san and I talked about with the Senior Mechanics who control the Mechanics Guild. Different wisdom, but the same refusal to contemplate changes.”
“Mari,” Alain said with a visibly surprised look, “the reasons Mage Asha gives for my elders moving against me are in part the same reasons your professor gave for your Guild’s hostility to you. There also we see similarities.”
“You’re right.” Mari sat back, trying to think. “Do you remember one of the first things we talked about after we met? How your elders and my Senior Mechanics seemed to have a lot in common? I wonder if every group of managers who becomes used to being in charge, who is dedicated to nothing more than keeping things the same and themselves in power, ends up acting in the same ways even if they use different justifications? They don’t want anyone questioning their decisions or their authority.” Something else occurred to her then. “Questions. Asha, you must have asked a lot of questions to find out all of this. You took some serious risks.”
“I have attracted the attention and disapproval of the elders,” Asha said, the lack of feeling in her voice providing no clue as to how she felt about that. “However, I have attracted such attention and disapproval before.”
“You have?”
Alain gestured toward Asha. “I have told you, Mari, that Mage Asha could never appear other than attractive.”
Mari stared at Asha. “You actually got in trouble because you were beautiful? Seriously?”
“My appearance,” Asha said, “must surely be my fault, must surely reveal a lack of wisdom.”
“What were you supposed to do about it?”
Asha’s shoulders twitched very slightly in what might have been a Mage shrug. “I could have shorn my hair, scarred and damaged my skin, broken things to make them heal in misshapen ways—”
“No!” Mari burst out, horrified. “That would be so wrong. Hurting yourself that way? Maiming yourself? Please don’t ever do that.”
Asha gazed at Mari for a long moment before replying. “I have been hurt before, Mari. It is nothing. But to harm my features would have served no purpose. To strike at my appearance would have been proof that I took note of it, and would have condemned me in the eyes of the elders just as much as how I look now.”
“No matter what you did, you’d be wrong?” Mari asked. “You know, back when Alain and I first met, I was really surprised that a Mage and I could have something in common. Now I’m learning that a female Mage and I have something in common, too. I’m glad you never hurt yourself. I’m sorry I freaked out earlier. I know I’m a little weird at times and I’m sorry. I just…” Mari hesitated, her voice sinking to a whisper. “I love you so much, Alain. I don’t want you to be hurt. Especially not because of me. And sometimes thinking about that makes it hard to handle everything else. I’ve got a world to save, but it wouldn’t mean anything if I lost you.”
“It must be difficult to see others as real instead of as shadows,” Asha said.
“It is difficult,” Alain agreed. “There is much pain to be found in such seeing. But there is also much joy.”
“Joy?”
“You will know it when you feel it,” he assured her. “I begin to suspect that none are shadows, but all are real for good or ill.”
Asha nodded, her eyes intent. “I will think on this, and look upon the shadows who cross my path. Do your powers diminish yet, Mage Alain?”
“My powers grow, Mage Asha, even as my love for Mari grows.”
Mari felt her face getting warmer again, but this time her blush came along with a smile.
“Your powers do not just remain as they were? They still grow?” Asha’s astonishment was clear to Mari.
“There is no doubt. I was able to test them in Marandur, and was forced to use them there to a greater extent than ever before. I am more powerful now.”
“Then you do learn a different wisdom, and perhaps a better one as well, Mage Alain. Perhaps the elders were right to fear you.” Asha looked around. “It
is not safe that I stay here. The Guild Hall will expect me back to help watch the gates for your departure, Alain. If I can, I will tell you when it is safe to leave this city.”
Mari leaned forward, touching Asha again on the hand, pleased and surprised when Asha did not recoil. “You don’t have to keep risking yourself for us.”
“Is that not what a friend does?”
“Yes.” Mari smiled. “And you are a friend. But friends also worry, and hope that their own friends are safe. Please be careful, Asha.”
“Please?”
“It means I’m asking you if you’ll do something, not telling you.”
“I see. Please. I will remember this word, but not use it around Mages.” Asha stood up, bringing her hood up around her head, then turned to go without another word.
Mari waited until she had left, then rose and locked the door again. “You could have said goodbye, Alain.”
“It did not occur to me when speaking with another Mage,” Alain admitted.
“Then next time I’ll remind you. Did Asha really suffer a lot more from the elders because she’s beautiful?”
“She did,” Alain said, his eyes once more getting the distant gaze of someone looking into their memories. “Asha was often berated as an acolyte for being too attractive. Some thought that meant she was too closely tied to the false world of appearances. This caused her distress, which was reason for more attacks on her by the elders for showing emotion. I know that as an acolyte Asha considered her appearance a true burden, and it was.”
“But you helped her at least once, right?”
“Only once,” Alain said. “The punishment was severe enough to dissuade me from trying any further, and I could see in Asha that she would avoid being helped again so as to protect me from more such punishment.” He paused, dredging up a memory. “I remember that once Asha did speak of changing her appearance. An elder spoke with her, and later that same elder told us that any attempt to damage Asha’s appearance would show a greater flaw than her beauty.”
“An elder convinced her not to mutilate herself?”