“Of course,” another one of the university masters added, “the fact that the Imperial sentries slay anyone they catch trying to leave the city is also a problem. We haven’t tried finding volunteers to carry such a petition for some time, since we don’t care to waste any more lives.”
Professor Wren spoke again. “You are trapped here now with us. We regret that, but we have managed to keep much of the university’s stock of knowledge intact. If you desire learning, it can still be had here.”
Mari shook her head. “I’m a Mechanic. What I needed was those manuscripts from the Mechanics Guild Hall. Without them, I can’t do what I need to do.”
Once again Alain saw the hidden reactions among the professors, confirming his earlier belief. They are hiding something. They know something about those things Mari seeks. Do I confront them now? No. I will wait and speak with Mari of it. She knows more than I do of these records, and together we will better determine how to respond to the deceit of these Masters.
Professor Wren nodded regretfully. “There may be something else we know that can help in your task. What is it you need to do?”
Mari gave the professor a flat look, speaking with calm certainty. “I need to change the world.”
* * * *
Later that evening, they joined most of the remaining inhabitants of the university in the former faculty dining hall. The old student dining hall was far too vast for the roughly five hundred people who still lived inside the walls. They were served a sparse meal which the thin frames of the professors and the other inhabitants of the university made clear was the norm, It consisted mostly of potatoes and a few other vegetables grown inside the walls, leavened by a few scraps of meat from the meager flock of chickens and herd of pigs that the students watched over. Alain, experienced in such a diet from his days as a Mage acolyte, recognized it as one that would keep people alive, but not much more than that.
Afterwards, Alain sat on the bed in the small private student quarters he had been given. The single candle lighting the room danced in the cold drafts penetrating the aging walls and window frame, causing shadows to shift and flow. The masters of the university, either out of propriety or because they could not imagine a Mage and a Mechanic wanting to share a room, had given them separate quarters.
He knew Mari had come to his door before her soft knock came. The thread between them seemed to be ever-present now. Mari had her pack with her, avoiding Alain’s eyes as she entered. “I didn’t feel like being alone. Is it all right if I stay in here for a little while?”
“It is all right,” Alain said. Mari was keeping her face averted, but he could see enough to spot a tangle of emotions chasing each other.
She sat down at the desk, facing mostly away from him, her pack on the floor. “So…you’re doing all right?” Mari asked.
“I am. Are you well?”
“Sure,” she replied, the tenseness underlying the word denying it. After a long, quiet moment, Mari yanked open her pack and pulled out a small packet, then reached under her jacket to bring out her weapon.
Alain watched as she brought out small tools and brushes, as well as a little bottle that smelled of oil. He had seen Mari do what she called “cleaning” the weapon, a task which always seemed to bring her comfort. But this time her hands shook as she worked, shook so badly that she kept dropping things, until Mari finally stopped, staring at the pieces of her weapon where they lay on the desk. “Alain? Can I…can I sleep in here tonight?”
“Yes. You did not need to ask.”
“I just…it’s been an pretty rough day. The ruins and…and the river…and getting in here and…I…I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course.” Alain felt that he should be doing something, but did not know what.
Mari came and sat down next to Alain, still not looking at him. “Do you want to do more?”
“More?”
“Than sleep. I mean…you know…if we’re trapped here. We might as well stop waiting.”
He watched her, trying to figure out her meaning, then it dawned on him and a strange feeling flooded him. “Mari, why do you offer this when I know it is important to you to wait?”
“It’s just…not that important anymore. That’s all. Do you want to?”
“Yes.” Alain wanted to reach for her, touch her, but he stopped himself. She was still looking off to one side, away from him. “I do not think you want to.”
“I said I did, Alain!”
“It does not feel right.” Something was very wrong. He could sense that much.
Mari breathed deeply, then wrapped her arms about him, her face against his shoulder. “My brave, wonderful Mage. How many men would have turned down that chance? Can we go to sleep now? Just sleep?”
The student bed was narrow, but there was enough room for them both as long as they held each other. Alain could feel the tension in Mari after she blew out the candle, but it did not seem to be tension born of physical strain. Plainly exhausted, Mari fell asleep fairly quickly, her body relaxing in his arms, but her breathing occasionally ragged. Concerned, Alain took longer to sleep, but finally drifted off as well.
He woke in the stillness of very late night, feeling Mari thrashing in his arms. Alain focused on her face, dimly visible in the weak moonlight filtering through the room’s window. Mari’s eyes were closed in sleep, but her mouth was open, distended, her expression that of someone screaming. Yet no sound emerged. There were only the jerky movements of her body and the silent scream caught in Mari’s throat.
Alain had never felt so frightened as he did then. “Mari! Mari!” He shook her as he called her name and Mari’s eyes flew open, looking about wildly before they finally met his. “What is wrong?”
She started crying, then buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled. “Alain…Alain…don’t let go. I keep seeing them. I keep seeing them.”
He knew, then. “Those we had to kill. Mari, they gave us no choice. If we had not fought, they would have killed us, and I am certain our deaths would have been much slower and much more painful than the deaths we gave them.”
“It doesn’t matter, Alain! Will I forget them? Tell me I won’t always see them!”
He felt a certainty that Mari, who had never wanted falsehood, now wanted a lie. “You will not always see them.”
“You’re lying,” she sobbed. “I can tell you’re lying. Tell me again.”
“You will not always see them.” Alain had never felt so helpless as he held her, Mari’s tears wetting his chest. “Mari, the memories do fade some. They are not easy to live with, but you can. That is so.”
She shuddered but didn’t say anything else, her grief pressed against Alain as she cried silently. He kept his arms around her, trying to offer what comfort he could, wishing that General Flyn had been wrong or given greater reassurance rather than a harsh truth. It is a hard thing. And now Mari bore that burden as well.
* * * *
He could not recall falling asleep again, but Alain finally woke to morning light and the occasional soft click of metal against metal. Mari sat at the desk once more, her hands much steadier as she worked methodically with her weapon. She did not seem to take any pleasure in the task, but continued as if it were something that must be done.
Alain watched silently until Mari had finished and put away the small bag of tools. She held the weapon in her hand, looking at it, then after a long time Mari holstered the weapon under her jacket.
Mari had not looked at him, but now she spoke. “Good morning.”
“Is it?” Alain asked.
“I…have to deal with it, Alain. Thank you for being there. Thank you…for being you.”
“I can only be me. I wish I could be more when you need it.”
She turned to look at him, smiling sadly. “I couldn’t ask for more. I meant my offer last night, Alain.”
“You did not.”
“All right, I’ll admit I was a bit overstressed and I’d probably be regretting
it this morning. But I wouldn’t have blamed you, and I really do want to be with you.”
“I know that. The right time will come.” Alain sat up, watching her. “You can talk with me. I know the feelings you have.”
Mari grimaced. “You’ve lived with them since that ambush on the way to Ringhmon, haven’t you? And I didn’t have any idea. I’m so sorry. Maybe I could handle this better if I knew what to do next. How can it end here, Alain? Trapped inside Marandur because there’s nowhere else to go and nothing else we can do? What I had to do yesterday…if the world falls into chaos, how many more people will die like that or have to kill like that to survive? It can’t end here. I don’t care whether the prophecy or your vision about me is true or not. I have to change things. I have to stop…that storm.” She shivered, wrapping her arms about herself.
Alain, experienced in ignoring physical discomfort, finally realized how cold it was in the room. He stood up and draped the blanket about Mari’s shoulders. “There is something I did not have the chance to speak with you about last night. When we dealt with the masters of this university, I saw some deception in them.”
“Deception?” Mari whispered the word, her eyes going to the door. “Danger?”
“I do not believe so. Each time you spoke of why we had come to Marandur, of the texts from your Guild, I saw deception in the faces of the masters of the university. They know something of these texts, something important which they did not reveal.”
“Really?” Mari pulled the blanket tighter about her, eyes intent with thought. “Why didn’t they say anything? Any guesses?”
“There was fear and worry in them along with the deception.”
“Guilt?”
“I do not think so.”
She shut her eyes tightly. “How do we convince them to tell us whatever they are withholding? It’d be easier to figure out if we know why they’re withholding it.”
“Is this a trust thing?” Alain asked.
“It might be.” Mari gave him a questioning look. “How do we get them to trust us? What can we do?”
Alain shook his head. “I do not think my Mage skills can offer much for the people here.”
“I can tinker with a few things, but these people don’t have lots of Mechanic equipment.” Mari shivered again. “It’s already cold and it’s just going to get colder as Winter hits. I hope you don’t mind if I keep sharing your bed.”
“I have never objected to that.”
Her smile seemed more natural now. “No, you haven’t, and you also haven’t taken advantage of it.” Mari’s gaze went to a metal object under the window. “I’m glad you can keep me warm. These buildings were designed to use steam heat, and that steam plant must not have worked since the last Mechanic left.”
“These buildings are warmed by Mechanic devices?” Alain asked, surprised.
“Yeah. They’re not being heated that way now. We didn’t see it last night, but there’s a steam boiler somewhere that heats water and sends the steam to all the buildings. Or it would if it was working.”
“Could you make that Mechanic thing work? That might cause the masters of the university to trust us more.”
Mari’s eyes widened, then she actually grinned. “My wonderful, wonderful Mage. What a great idea.” She jumped up and came over to hug him tightly. “Thank you.”
He knew she meant much more than the idea he had just given her, and that made Alain feel much better than he had since last night.
Hope was a strange thing. He could give it to Mari even while wondering if it still existed. Perhaps that hope was false like everything else, a mere illusion, or perhaps it was as real as he was now certain Mari was as well.
Chapter Seventeen
It wasn’t until Mari left the room that she realized the inhabitants of the university probably knew that she had spent the night with Alain. Her pack had been left resting next to his in the room. She felt a surge of embarrassment, then defiance. Let them think what they will. I’m not going to explain or justify myself to anyone, not when I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m tired of people who think the worst of me.
As they walked toward Professor Wren’s office, she felt the silence more strongly than usual. Normally it felt right just to be with Alain, not necessarily saying anything. But now the lack of words weighed on her. “You know, Alain, I can’t operate a boiler all by myself.”
“I did not know that,” Alain said.
“Well, I could for a little while, but I need to sleep. I’m going to need help. I’m going to need to train people.” Mari looked around. “And the only people here are commons.”
“When you spoke with Mechanic Calu, you said you thought commons might be able to do Mechanic work,” Alain pointed out.
“You remember that? Yeah. Those Dark Mechanics we’ve encountered. Where do they come from, anyway? The Mechanics Guild is supposed to find everyone with Mechanic talents when they’re still kids.” She walked a few steps more, thinking. “Maybe there is a talent, but it’s not all there is. I mean, the Dark Mechanics don’t have the Mechanics Guild’s rules. They could build new stuff if they wanted to, but they don’t seem to have done so. Maybe they can do basic work but lack the talent to design new things.”
“Basic work?” Alain asked.
“Like turning wrenches and tightening screws. Reading gauges.” Mari glanced at Alain. “Commons use simple tools all the time, even though they don’t recognize them as tools. Levers, for example. They operate rifles. They work pump handles. I’ve always been told commons can’t go beyond that, but if there was ever a place to test that rule, it’s here.”
She felt a sardonic laugh coming and let it out, drawing a look from Alain in which both surprise and concern were apparent. He had a right to both, after last night. Please let it get better. If I have to deal with that kind of nightmare every night, I’ll go insane. “It’s all right. I was just thinking that I may be about to break one of the most important rules of my Guild. But what are they going to do to me besides what they are already trying to do? I can’t change the world without running a few risks.”
Alain actually managed to look skeptical. “A few risks?”
Mari laughed again, the sound feeling strange to her still. “You know, like trusting a Mage.”
“I understand,” Alain said. “I have also run risks against the teaching of my Guild. Why has my closeness to you not harmed my Mage powers? I was taught that being able to cause temporary changes to the world requires believing that the world I see is false and that other people are part of that illusion. Yet I feel more strongly every day that you are real, that you cannot be an illusion, and my powers have not diminished.”
Mari felt uncomfortable at that, at the idea that Alain’s feelings for her might have limited the powers he had sacrificed so much to attain. “Maybe that’s because you believe in this illusion of me that isn’t real,” she tried to joke. “I bet you really do believe that I’m the daughter of Jules.”
“I am certain that you are the… You told me not to call you by that name.”
“Sorry,” Mari said. “That wasn’t a deliberate trap. I guess I can say it, because I don’t really believe it, but if you say it, I would know you believed it. Because you think I’m this impossibly wonderful person who can do anything. I’ve heard you tell people that.”
“That is not an illusion,” Alain said, his voice perfectly serious.
“If I thought you really believed that, I’d run away right now,” Mari said, keeping her own voice just as serious. “That’s too much for anyone to live up to.”
“You are more than you think you are,” Alain said, “but perhaps that is what makes you more.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s too early in the morning for me to think that through. Promise me that you won’t go around telling people here that I’m…her.”
“I promise,” Alain said. “Can I tell them that you can be difficult?”
He had made another joke. Mar
i smiled at Alain. “I think they’ll figure that out on their own soon enough.”
* * * *
Mari faced Professor Wren, master of the university. It felt good to be wearing her Mechanics jacket again, good to be recognizable to everyone who saw her for what she could do.
That wasn’t all that felt good. Yesterday she had said it straight out. I want to change the world. What had made her decide to say that? Had it been experiencing the horror of Marandur, which was a product of the way the world was? Whatever the reason, Mari felt real relief at having accepted that goal, even though the goal was still a vague one. Except for overthrowing the Great Guilds. The only way to change the world was by doing that. So it seems I’m accepting the role of the daughter even if I can’t believe that I am really her.
Even better, after the haunting horror of last night, had been waking in Alain’s arms and knowing she had the strength to keep going. Start small. Finish cleaning the pistol and reassemble it. It had been hard to pick up the weapon after that, its familiar feel in her hand become strange and menacing. Alli had talked about that, too, when she was teaching Mari to shoot, but Mari hadn’t really paid attention, hadn’t really understood. Shooting these is fun, Alli had said. Designing them is cool. But, really, Mari, they only have one purpose. They exist to kill things. You can’t ever forget that. And so Mari had holstered the pistol, knowing that she had used it only when no alternative existed, and knowing that she would use it again only for the same reason.
Then Alain had given her another gift with his suggestion. Now her mind seized upon the idea of fixing that old boiler, training commons in its use, creating instead of destroying. “Professor Wren, I’m going to take a look at the steam heating plant for these buildings.”
Wren blinked, her expression concerned. “We have not tampered with the Mechanic equipment, if that is your worry.”
“I want to see if I can fix it,” Mari stated. “Get it working for you before winter comes.”
“Do you think you can?” Wren’s face lit with amazement. “But we have little money and we understand the works of Mechanics are always very expensive. We cannot afford to pay.”