Alain ran one hand through his hair to comb it, twitched his robes slightly to settle them properly, then nodded.
She shook her head. “Guys have it so easy.” Mari led Alain toward the camp, but halted several lance-lengths short of it. “Do you mind waiting here with me?” she asked. “I’m still a bit nervous around commons.”
Alain nodded in response, not remarking on the falseness he had heard in Mari’s voice. She was nervous, but not for the reason she had given him. “Will you ask these soldiers to join with you?”
“Will I—?” Mari looked at him the way she had soon after they had first met, when his simple statements of how Mages saw the world had baffled her. “Join with me? What does that mean?”
“You will need the assistance of commons—”
Mari laughed. “I’m not going to use an army to get through the Empire. I’m pretty sure I explained that we were going to sneak our way to Severun. It’s too bad you can’t make both of us invisible with that spell of yours.” She gestured toward the carcass of the dragon. “Speaking of things disappearing, Alain, why don’t those things vanish when they get killed? You told me that all Mage spells were temporary, only lasting as long as you could maintain them.”
“That is so,” Alain said, “but you must remember that dragons, trolls and similar spell creatures are not alive and so cannot die. They are a spell designed to maintain itself, mimicking a living creature. Because they imitate a living creature, they can be stopped by the same amount of damage which would kill a comparable living creature.”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow his way. “That’s consistent enough, but why don’t they disappear once they’ve been pretend-killed?”
“Because they are imbued with enough power to sustain themselves,” Alain explained. “It may be enough for a few days of activity, which for these creatures means intense action. That power does not vanish if they are stopped before the spell expires. It remains within them, slowly dissipating. The same amount of power which could keep a dragon moving and fighting for a few days would take many days to dissolve.”
Mari stared at the ruin of the dragon. “So it decays. Sort of like a living thing, but faster. What does it take, a month?”
Alain made an uncertain gesture. “It depends. How much power was placed within the creature? How much did it use before being stopped? I cannot imagine the remains lasting more than a month at the longest, though. After that, everything is gone. Bones, muscle, it all fades into the nothing from which it came.”
“From nothing to nothing?” Mari shook her head. “That really bothers me, Alain.”
“It has always bothered me as well, though I could not betray such feelings in the past.”
The soldiers must have passed the word of their presence there through the camp, because only a short time later General Flyn walked up, looking at Mari with uncertainty clear in his expression. “May I be blunt, Lady?” he asked her.
Mari shrugged. “I’m finding that plain speaking is too rare in my life, General. Feel free.”
“Are you truly a Mechanic? Or did you acquire that jacket under circumstances I would be better off not knowing?”
“I acquired my jacket after an apprenticeship at the Mechanics Guild Hall in Caer Lyn,” Mari replied. “I acquired my Master Mechanic status at the Mechanics Guild Academy in Palandur. And I’ll answer the question you didn’t ask, General. I’m eighteen years old, the youngest Master Mechanic in the history of the Guild.”
“A young Master Mechanic.” Flyn regarded her thoughtfully. “We have heard of a Lady Master Mechanic who burned down the city hall which was the pride of Ringhmon. This Mage and I discussed that incident a few days ago.”
Mari shrugged once more. “I’m not sure why you would think I had anything to do with that, but I am sure that Ringhmon had it coming.”
“Anyone who has dealt with Ringhmon would agree, I am sure, Lady,” the general said. “You weren’t in Dorcastle soon afterwards, were you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“A matter concerning dragons that weren’t dragons. The Great Guilds have put out their versions of those events, but many rumors are making the rounds as well, speaking of a young woman whose description matches your own appearance. I did not place much credence in those rumors, but yesterday the Mage informed me that you had killed another dragon before this one. Was it you, Lady, who slew the dragon seen in the remnants of a warehouse before the Mechanics Guild declared it off limits to common folk?”
Mari looked around as if seeking a way to escape, then faced the general squarely. “I’m tired of lying to people. Yes. This Mage and I were responsible for the death of that dragon and the destruction of the warehouse.”
“My role was small,” Alain interjected.
“No, it wasn’t,” Mari said, her tone sharpening. “General, I’m trying to keep a low profile. I know that commons are talking about that incident. But I’d rather not have my name linked to it in ways that will get back to my Guild.”
“We don’t share such stories with your Guild, Lady. It seems you have done a number of remarkable things.”
“Master Mechanic Mari will do many more remarkable things,” Alain said, feeling a strange sense of pride in the way Flyn looked at Mari.
Mari covered her face with one hand. “Thank you, Sir Mage,” she muttered from behind the hand. “That’s very helpful.”
“I have already promised not to tell any that you were here,” Flyn said. “I will abide by that, but I cannot swear the rest of my command will do so for long. They will not tell any Mechanics or Mages, but sooner or later no matter what oaths they swear, they will have too much ale and tell friends who will tell friends, and thus word may nonetheless filter back to the Great Guilds eventually.”
Mari looked glumly at the mountains beyond the general. “I expect a good head start, General. I need a good head start. You owe me that.”
The general indicated the camp of the soldiers. “Lady, we owe you a great deal more than that. At least six men and women who would have died last night still live because of the medical supplies you brought and gave us freely. All of us here would probably be dead but for an act of yours, slaying that dragon, for which you have asked a ridiculously small payment. I assure you that I will do all I can to confuse your trail.”
“Good. I’ve got another deal for you.”
Alain saw wariness spring into Flyn’s eyes. No surprise there. Centuries of poor treatment from the Great Guilds had left their legacy with the commons. Alain thought that Mari had noticed as well, but if so she let the general’s first reaction pass without comment.
“That dragon-killer of mine,” she said. “I’ve got another. It’s easy to use. Would you like it?”
The general nodded. “You know I would, Lady.”
“I should let you know that you’ll have to keep any other Mechanics from seeing it. If they catch you with it, it would go ill for you. In trade for the weapon, I need more food and some water. I know you can’t spare a lot, but I don’t have much left and will need a few more days’ worth. The Mage and I need that. But the biggest part of the price is this: that you tell everyone that Mage Alain slew that dragon but died in the process. No Mechanic was here and no Mage left this place alive.”
Flyn’s eyes went to Alain. “Sir Mage? Do you want us to report this to your Guild?”
Alain nodded. “Yes. Word of my death will be welcome to them.”
The general hesitated before speaking again. “Sir Mage?”
“My Guild seeks my death, General. I have no doubt of this after the events of yesterday.”
“I see.” Flyn bowed to Alain. “Then we will do as you ask, reporting your demise with as much detail as your Guild elders could possibly desire.”
“That will be of great service to me,” Alain said, “though it will do little good. Any Mage you speak to will know you lie.”
“I am aware of that, Sir Mage.” Flyn paused to think. “But perhap
s I can make them think the lie is elsewhere, by claiming that my men and I slew the dragon after it had finished you. The Mages will think you must have inflicted a death-blow on the dragon as it killed you and assume we’re trying to take credit for an act only one of their own could have accomplished.”
“That might prove an effective ruse,” Alain agreed.
“Do we have a deal then?” Mari asked.
“Aye, Lady, we do, though as the Mage says, our lies may not fool his Guild for long. Nor, as with you, will all of my troops be able to keep from speaking of him when their tongues are loosened by drink. I will do my best to bind them to silence, though, and at worst to misdirect anyone asking after either of you. Do you then plan to depart together?”
“We do,” Alain said.
Flyn scratched his beard. “If I breathe a word of this I will be branded the biggest liar in the history of Dematr, even including the Mages. Very well, Sir Mage. We would be glad to escort you and the Lady at least part of the way to wherever you go.”
Mari shook her head. “I assume that you’re heading back west. We’re going east.”
“Into Imperial lands?” Flyn gave her and Alain an alarmed look. “The legions are out, Lady. This is no time to try to cross the high plains.”
“We have to, General.”
He eyed her, then nodded. “Getting to Kelsi or going back through Alexdria would require backtracking, would it not, Lady Mechanic? And it’s plain enough that you do not want to be found by your Guild, who you expect to be on your trail. Am I right? I know ways to Palla from here, from which you could get to Ihris.”
“We need to go east, General.” Mari had not raised her voice, it did not sound in any way harsher, and yet it rang with a finality that demanded respect.
“All right, then.” Flyn pondered her statement, then pointed. “You would be captured for certain if you go back the way we came. Well, given what you two have done, not easily captured, and perhaps even able to fight your way through. But there would be a fight, and my guess is that you seek to enter the Empire without attracting the attention a battle royal would generate.”
“That’s right,” Mari said. “We don’t want to attract any attention at all.”
“There are other routes east,” Flyn advised, “some unknown to the Imperials. One I know of will bring you well north of our track before leaving the Northern Ramparts. It would require three days’ march, about, from this point. The track is unsuited for any large force, and for horses as well, but two on foot could make use of it.”
Alain nodded. “This seems to be wise advice, Lady Mari.”
He had never called her Lady Mari before, but her sudden smile at him showed that she liked hearing her name said that way. General Flyn noticed that as well.
“Horses can’t do it?” Mari asked the general, then looked toward her steed. “General, it seems I have a horse for sale.”
Flyn grinned. “You’ll need Imperial currency. Let me see what I can scare up.”
When the general returned, it was with a substantial bag of coins. Mari frowned at it. “How much is in there?”
“I didn’t count it, Lady Mari. Every man and woman contributed what they could. A good amount of it isn’t Imperial coin, but you should be able to get it exchanged with the money lenders in Umburan, or wherever your destination lies.”
Mari took the bag, obviously disconcerted by the weight. “I’m no merchant, but I know this is too much. I have no interest in cheating anybody, and I won’t take money I haven’t earned.”
This time the general laughed. “Did you wonder that I asked if you were really a Mechanic? The troops insisted upon giving whatever they could, Lady.”
“Why?” Mari demanded.
“Because they know you saved them yesterday, Lady.”
Alain looked at the general. “There is something else that you have not said.”
The general nodded, grimacing. “Serves me right for speaking half-truths in front of a Mage. All right, Lady, the full truth is not just that you slew yonder dragon before it could massacre every man and woman here. It’s that the troops believe that you’re the daughter of Jules, of whom legend has long spoken.”
Alain had no trouble hiding his reaction to the news that the commons had guessed who Mari was, but unsurprisingly Mari had more trouble with it.
Mari stared at the general for a moment before managing to reply. “The daughter of Jules?” She laughed, trying to sound mocking, but Alain could hear the worry underlying that. He could understand that worry, if Mari was not yet ready for many to learn of her importance. “My parents were commons,” Mari continued, “of no special note. Why would anyone think I am related to Jules?”
Flyn’s own expression remained serious, his eyes on her. “My soldiers see that you wear the jacket of a Mechanic and have the skills of a Mechanic, yet you treat the common folk with courtesy. Though a day ago they would have declared it impossible, they see that you work with a Mage who has himself proven to be most unusual. They saw you stand watch over that Mage as he slept, protecting him just as you saved them. They know you expected the same treatment as them, and gave generously to save their injured comrades. And you killed a dragon with one blow, the sort of feat which Jules herself might have done. You are like no one any of them has seen or heard of, so they hope that you’ll be the one, Lady, the one the prophecy speaks of, the one who has come at last to overthrow the Great Guilds.”
Mari’s expression shifted rapidly through what Alain thought was dismay, embarrassment and panic, though it could have been all of those things at once and more. He suddenly realized the actual reason for Mari’s reluctance to be among the common soldiers. She had sensed their hero worship, sensed that they suspected who she was, and been greatly unsettled by it. “General,” Mari insisted, “that is absurd. I don’t know much about that prophecy, but I doubt that it says anything about Mages and Mechanics helping the daughter. Right, Alain?”
She had asked him, and Mari insisted on what she called truth, so Alain gave the answer he had learned in Ringhmon. “Though this is not known to commons, the Mage prophecy of old does say that the daughter will unite Mechanics, Mages, and commons to overthrow the Great Guilds.”
“It does?” General Flyn said, astonished.
“It does?” Mari said in very different tones, then glared at Alain. “You are supposed to be helping me,” she whispered to him angrily.
Mari turned back to face the general, composing her expression and her voice. “Regardless of what the prophecy said, I can’t imagine why anyone would think I have any role in it. I’m a Mechanic. I fix things. I’m not exactly capable of overthrowing anything, nor am I as dangerous as some people seem to think I am.”
The general gestured. “There’s a dragon which might argue that last point, if it wasn’t dead. And then there was Ringhmon, and Dorcastle—”
“Those had nothing to do with—” Mari looked to Alain, her expression reproachful. “What have you told him?”
“Nothing,” Alain said. “Almost nothing, that is.”
“Listen,” Mari said. “I’m a pretty good Mechanic. That’s all.” Mari waved both hands before her in a warding gesture. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get my pack together.” She walked off very quickly, leaving Alain and General Flyn.
Flyn gave Alain a shrewd look. “Your thoughts are hidden, Sir Mage. I would give much to know what you believe of the Lady Mari.”
“I do not believe that she would approve of my telling you that,” Alain said, feeling very uncertain. Since arriving, Mari had acted as if ready to reveal herself to these commons, but now she was denying who she was.
“But you have not only told me something not known about the prophecy, Sir Mage, you have also admitted that it exists. I am not aware that any Mage has ever done that.” Flyn looked in the direction that Mari had gone. “I do not ask you to violate any confidences, Sir Mage, but if she is indeed that one, she will need all the friends sh
e can get.”
Alain intended saying nothing more, but his foresight came upon him again as Flyn finished speaking. A vision appeared before him: Mari and General Flyn on horseback, their mounts facing each other, Flyn saluting her with his sword. Alain sat on a horse as well, beside Mari. Vague shapes of other cavalry and soldiers on foot could be dimly seen in the background, at least one of the mounted figures also wearing the dark jacket of a Mechanic. A banner held by one of the cavalry bore the same design as Alain had seen on the armbands he and Mari had been wearing in his vision of the future battle at Dorcastle.
He blinked as the vision vanished, then looked at Flyn. Alain had seen himself in the vision, which meant it was something that might happen, a possible event if decisions and events led there, if he and Mari survived long enough. “You may play some role in the future, General. Your talents and your determination kept me alive. I would welcome your service to Master Mechanic Mari, protecting her as you protected me.”
Flyn stared at Alain. “Have you…seen something regarding that, Sir Mage?”
“I have,” Alain said, knowing that Flyn was asking if his foresight had provided any clues. “You may be, on some day to come, her general.”
“I would serve no Mechanic, unless she was in truth…” the general began, his voice trailing off and a look of wonder dawning on his face. “She must be. I had not dared hope. What a miracle it is that I have lived to see this day, that I have lived to meet her.”
“General,” Alain said, “you heard Lady Mari. She does not want it known as of yet. You know the perils that she will face when the Great Guilds hear of her. Already Lady Mari faces many threats, but when she becomes known, the storm that threatens this world will bend every effort to destroy her.”
“The storm?” Flyn nodded, his eyes on Alain. “You can feel it, too, then? Everywhere there is a sense that our world trembles and threatens to shatter from strains that have been pent up for too long. That also is so?”