“Does that cause harm?” Alain asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Mari said it in the manner of someone recalling an event. “Believe me, you only put your hand on a noninsulated steam pipe once. Anybody who doesn’t learn their lesson from that is too dumb to be a Mechanic.”
He nodded in understanding, remembering his own training. “The Mechanics teach lessons to their acolytes by using physical punishment just as Mages do.”
Instead of nodding back, she stared at him. Then Mari swallowed and spoke in a strained voice. “It wasn’t— I’m sorry. You were— No. I can’t go there. Let’s get out of here.”
She hastened forward, kneeling again by the new door, frowning as she examined it with unusual intensity.
He watched her, trying to understand what had caused her distress this time and curious about these strange Mechanic arts. Alain had been satisfied briefly by his conclusion that the thread and his thoughts of Mari were part of a test, a challenge on his path to greater wisdom. But once she had mentioned her orders not to contact him again, Alain had realized that he did not want the thread to break. If the thread meant friend, though, it could remain, though he was still hazy on just what friend was.
He had feared thinking of Mari would weaken him, lead him astray, but Alain had been surprised to be able to walk after getting past the alarm. He should have been worn out from his exertions. Instead, Mechanic Mari’s presence, or perhaps the thread he saw between them, had pushed him to be able to do more than he ever had before. His conclusions had been right. The challenge she represented would make him stronger.
Would other Mages be able to detect the thread? That would create difficulties. He would have to explain it, not as what he believed it to be, but as something the elders could accept. They have taught me that there is no truth and no lie, so I will hold to their teachings and say what will serve my purposes.
Mechanic Mari had said that truth mattered to her, but surely she would not object to Alain misleading his elders in that fashion.
Mari gave a small cry of dismay that cut off Alain’s thoughts. “I don’t believe it,” she complained. “There’s three—no, four—bolts or hasps holding this door shut, and they’re locked from the outside. I can’t get us through this.” She slumped, sitting on the step before the door and rubbing her head with both hands, then looked up at him. “Can you do it? We’d need a hole this big.” The Mechanic outlined a large section of one side of the door. “And you’d need to hold it longer because I’d need to disable or open all four locks.”
Alain evaluated his overtaxed strength, felt the power here, then shook his head. “I cannot get us through the door, either. Not for some time. Only the guards could open it for us. They will surely not come before full day without good reason, and then they will come in force, and we will have to fight our way out.”
“If we could fight our way out of here. What could make the guards come earlier…distract them…?” Mari looked up at him, her eyes still holding a stricken quality but lit with inspiration. “A good reason. Mage Alain, you’re a genius.” She jumped up and made a fist, but before he could react to the shocking attack Mari had merely lightly bumped the fist against his shoulder. She turned, but then spun back to face him. “I don’t know what they did to you. I don’t want to know. But something good survived that. He’s still in there. I can tell. I’m difficult. I can be very difficult and hard on my friends. But I’m always there for them and I never let them down. All right?”
He gazed back at her, mystified anew by her words. “This is part of friend?”
“Yeah.” She forced a smile, then pivoted and ran toward one of the side rooms. Mari looked inside, then beckoned to him. “Just what we needed,” she remarked.
The room held a number of the thin mattresses like that which had been in her cell. “It’s a storeroom,” she explained. “With lots of flammable material.” Shoving some of the dry mattresses together, she pulled another Mechanic thing out of her tool kit and clicked it with her thumb, making sparks fly. The bright spots landed on the fabric of the mattresses and began to send up thin trails of smoke from where they lay. “If we need to, we can go back and try to pry free one of the oil lamps, but that would mean getting past that alarm thing again. I think this will do the job.”
“What are you doing?” Alain asked.
“Starting a fire, of course.” Mari held up the thing in her hand. “It’s a fire-starter. A really simple device. Haven’t you ever seen one?”
Alain shook his head. “Never. That thing seems very complicated. I do not understand how it can work.”
“How do you start fires?”
That was a Guild secret. Or was it? The elders had told him that no Mechanic could understand how it worked. What would this Mechanic say if he told her? “I use my mind to channel power to create a place where it is hot, altering the nature of the illusion there,” Alain explained, “and then use my mind to put that heat on what I want to burn.”
“Oh,” Mechanic Mari said. “Is that actually how you visualize the process?”
“That is how it is done,” Alain said.
“That’s…interesting.” She grinned. “So, instead of making a fire by doing something complicated or hard to understand like striking a flint, you just alter the nature of reality. That is a lot simpler.”
“Your tone of voice,” Alain said. “You are saying sarcasm.”
“I do that too much,” Mari said apologetically. Her smile this time seemed more natural, though it was still stiff with some strain as she nursed the small spots of flame into larger blazes. “Sometimes denying reality is all that keeps a person going, isn’t it?”
“Reality? Do you mean the illusion?”
“Right. You have no idea how many people superior to me in rank and age have insisted on trying to explain reality to me over the years.” Mari gasped a short laugh. “That’s the one area I’m a slow learner in, I guess.”
Alain studied her. “You are speaking quickly. You are frightened.”
She met his eyes. “No. I’m nervous. About getting out of here, and about the risk of what I’m doing right now, and about…about talking to you. I start to think maybe I understand who you are and what you’ve been through and then…stars above. I’ll get over it. Let me explain what’s going on, because I just realized that I was assuming you know, but we don’t operate on the same wavelength at all.”
“Wave length? We are nowhere near an ocean.”
“Um…” Mechanic Mari paused. “Never mind that. Listen. When this fire gets bad enough, the smoke-sniffer will set off an alarm and the guards will come charging in through that door to put out the fire. While they do that, we’ll go charging out the door under the cover of all the smoke and confusion and stuff.” She sat back, eyeing the flames now leaping upward to lick at the wooden beams of the ceiling. “If this fire gets out of hand, or if the guards take too long to come, you and I may be in a lot of trouble.”
“We are already in a lot of trouble.”
“That was my reasoning, too. Of course, if that happens and the fire gets too big before the mighty citizens of Ringhmon stop it, it’ll also gut this little palace and destroy everything inside it. Including the enormously expensive Model Six that I just fixed, which they’ll be responsible for paying for, and probably the other Model Six that they openly own.” She shrugged, trying to appear unworried. “That’ll teach them to kidnap me. But that won’t happen. We’ll be fine.”
“You say that and yet you are frightened.”
“Yes, I’m frightened! I admit it! Happy? No, wait, Mages are never happy. Just try not to die, all right? I don’t want that to be my fault.”
Alain thought through her words. “I will attempt not to die. Your plan appears to be sound, as well as potentially very destructive. I see that it is a mistake to offend you.”
“Yes, yes, it is,” Mari agreed, a smile flickering briefly to life. “Stay on my good side and you won’t have to worry about it
.” She backed away from the fire, which was now burning brightly, sending up flames and sending out heat. “Let’s toss some more mattresses on it to get some good smoke.”
He assisted her as they mounded a couple of more mattresses on the burning one, producing billowing clouds of smoke which stung Alain’s eyes and throat as he backed out of the storeroom after her. Fire had sprung to life on the beams of the ceiling in the room, illuminating the smoke from above. “Over here,” Mechanic Mari called, coughing as the smoke began filling the hallway as well. He followed her again, to the room on the opposite side. A harsh sound began blaring around them, echoing off the walls. “That’s the smoke-sniffer.”
As they waited, the Mechanic coughed again, her eyes watering. “Mage Alain? There’s something I forgot to take into account.”
Alain squeezed his eyes to try to clear them, but the irritation from the smoke kept blurring his vision. “How so?” he asked, coughing as well.
“The smoke. It’s spreading faster than the flames right now. We have less time than I thought. If those guards don’t get down here soon, the smoke will kill us.”
“That would be unfortunate,” Alain admitted. “So you have erred as well?”
“Yes. I have erred. Let’s hope it wasn’t a fatal error. I hate it when that happens.”
She had attempted more of her sarcasm, but Mari’s fear stood out clearly despite the front of bravery she was attempting, the feelings radiating from the Mechanic like the heat from the fire. As Alain used his training to keep his own fears deeply buried, he wondered about her. “Master Mechanic Mari, is this a time when a friend would help?”
“If they could, yes,” she gasped.
“Death is just a passing from one dream into another. It is nothing but another journey.”
She blinked at him with eyes watering because of the smoke. “Thanks. That doesn’t really help, but thanks for trying. I—” Whatever else the Mechanic might have said was forestalled by shouts from the other side of the barred door, accompanied by a metallic rattle and clicking. “They’re unlocking the door,” Mari whispered. Moments later the door slammed open and a group of guards carrying pails of water surged into the hall. The heat and smoke from the fire met them and threw the group back as it billowed into the new space the open door now offered.
Alain felt a hand grab his arm and followed its tug downward toward the floor. The smoke wasn’t as thick down here. Mechanic Mari moved in a low crouch toward the door, still holding onto him and trying to avoid the guards, who were milling about in confusion while someone shouted orders. They bumped into the legs of several guards, all of whom were so disoriented they didn’t react, then reached the door, where another wedge of guards was being urged forward into the hall. For now, that wedge completely sealed the doorway against them. Alain let Mari lead him to crouch to one side, tears streaming down her face as the smoke irritated her eyes, holding her hand over her mouth as the roar of the fire grew behind them. He was having a lot of trouble breathing himself, and wondered how long they could last here.
The plug of guards burst out of the doorway under the urging of their leader, hurling their buckets of water randomly in all directions before stampeding back to the doorway. Alain once again let Mari lead as she merged with the tangle of guards, who were fleeing up a long flight of stairs. He caught a brief glimpse of a guard commander howling curses, then a gust of smoke roiled up the stairway and blotted out his sight.
Pounding up the stairs in Mari’s wake, Alain’s breathing grew more labored by the moment. Coming on top of the weakness he still felt from his earlier efforts, it left his head spinning. He had thought her lost in the smoke ahead, but suddenly Mechanic Mari appeared before him, reaching back to pull Alain onward. The knowledge that she had backtracked into danger to ensure his survival kept him going as much as the tug of her hand.
Just when he feared he would collapse, they came to a small landing, then out the door at the head of the stairs and around a corner, where the air near the floor was almost completely clear of the smoke fountaining from the doorway and along the ceiling above them. Alain struggled for breath, coughing as he did so. He noticed Mechanic Mari lying on her side nearby, curled up and coughing constantly. Acting on a vague memory, Alain crawled to her and began thumping her back hard with his palm.
The Mechanic’s coughing broke and she started breathing. Mari grabbed his hand to stop him. “That’s enough. Thanks.”
He peered at her, blurry through the water filling his eyes from the irritation of the smoke. “You came back for me on the stairs.”
“Didn’t you believe me? I don’t leave anyone behind, Alain.”
She had simply used his name, not the title of Mage. He should have objected, but instead felt a desire to do the same with her. “I will believe you next time…Mari.”
“Good. You’re a quick learner.” She looked both ways along the hall, where individual commons were running about in panic, none of them seeming to take note of the Mechanic and the Mage on the floor. The night shift in this building must be substantial, though nowhere near as large as the number of day workers. “Do you know how to get out of this building?” Mari asked.
“I came in through walls.”
“Then the answer is no,” Mari gasped, pushing herself to her hands and knees. “Let’s just get away from the fire before any of those commons starts thinking and wondering what the blazes we’re doing here. This way looks as good as any.”
They crawled away, trying to avoid any other occupants of the building as those rushed by. The smoke gradually diminished as they turned corners, but the roar of activity behind them didn’t relent. Mari got to her feet, helping him rise as well, and they both staggered along. Some of the commons stopped to stare at them but Mari’s glare got them moving again quickly.
Something crashed somewhere, causing the entire building to shudder. Moments later a huge cloud of smoke came billowing along the hall. Alain could not help thinking that the smoke seemed to be pursuing them, as if the fire did not want them to escape its grasp.
Mari stared at the oncoming wave of smoke, but instead of fleeing immediately knelt to press one hand against the floor. She straightened quickly, shaking her head. “The floor is hot. That means the fire is spreading rapidly beneath us. We have to get out of this building. Fast. This way.”
They managed a stumbling trot, trying to reach the end of the long hallway. Alain realized that the smoke was coming not just from behind them, but also shooting up in geysers through tiny cracks in the flooring. “Your plan is working,” Alain said to Mari as he struggled for breath. “This building will be destroyed.”
“My plan didn’t involve us being inside when that happened! Just keep your head and keep moving. Look! A window!” Mari called, tugging at his robes again. The window, a large one divided into several panes and almost floor to ceiling, the night sky visible through it just beginning to pale with the dawn, sat at the end of the wide corridor they had just turned onto. Alain yielded to Mari’s pull, scrambling along with her toward the promise of safety.
The thud of feet startled him, then several soldiers of Ringhmon came charging around the corner near the window. They stared down the hall at the smoke billowing in their direction, then at the Mechanic and Mage coming toward them in front of the cloud. Faces stark with panic, four of the soldiers leveled crossbows. One brought a Mechanic weapon to his shoulder.
Mari began to skid to a halt, her face a mask of despair, her hand weapon looking far too small compared to the weapons carried by the soldiers. But she was leveling her weapon, ready to fight rather than try running back into the smoke chasing them down the hallway.
Alain grabbed her jacket and pulled her forward. “Keep going,” he ordered, then called on everything he had for one more effort. The world illusion said the air in this hallway was clear. It let light pass. But the air could be dark. It could stop light. Change the illusion. Reverse it.
He did not have the str
ength to do this. He knew that. But it came to him in a sudden release and the power flowed through him as he pushed the Mechanic.
The air around them went pitch black.
Through a haze of total exhaustion, Alain could hear shouts of alarm and terror from in front of them. A familiar thunder boomed in the hallway and things whipped past him with angry cracking sounds. The Mechanic weapon must be launching its projectiles, but with no way to see his targets the chances of the soldier getting a hit must be very small. Alain stumbled, falling, his strength almost totally gone, but a firm grip caught him and propelled him forward. He realized that Mechanic Mari must almost be carrying him, despite his weight and her own tiredness. She was again risking her own life to save him.
Mechanics were not supposed to do that sort of thing. But this was not a Mechanic. This was Mari. Where was she getting the strength to carry him along? His fatigue addled mind dredged up an answer: that it must come from the same place he had found the means to cast this last spell, a place where strength could be found when none remained. She had shown him how to find such a place, and now she was using it as well to save them both. The thread and its odd effects ran both ways.
They crashed into a tangle of bodies, broke through in the confusion, and moments later hit something hard that shattered under the impact. Their rush carried them through the broken window and there was nothing under their feet.
His strength completely failed, the spell broke and sight returned. Pieces of glass were flying through the air all around, rotating and spinning away with what seemed to his overstressed mind to be dreamlike slowness. Next to him, one arm wrapped about his arm, Mari rolled in midair with her head tucked into her elbow for protection. As his own body spun in the predawn dimness, Alain saw bushes rushing up to meet him. Or perhaps he was falling onto them. Both were only illusions of his mind, so he surrendered to weariness and waited for his body and the bushes to rush together.
Chapter Eleven