Dav shook his head. “Even in the outside world controlled by the Great Guilds people can change their routines or where they live. I can’t imagine never having had any changes in anything.”
“But they cannot imagine such change,” Wren said. “They cannot deal with it. That is what they fear.”
“Then why don’t they shut off the boiler that provides you with heat?” Mari said angrily. “That was a change.”
“Master Mechanic Mari, there have been arguments that we should do exactly that.” Wren waited for Mari’s shock to lessen slightly. “Yes, you gave us heat, and that saved lives last winter. Yet even as those lives were saved there were complaints. Students’ schedules had to be adjusted, with new responsibilities added. Schedules had not been adjusted for more than a century. Some people thought they never should be, that our routines should be more unchanging and enduring than the stones of our buildings.”
Alain suspected that Professor Don was among that number.
“We have to acquire more wood to burn,” Wren continued, “and students are learning new skills. New skills! The horror! But those who fear that are absolutely sincere. They imagine more changes, more alterations in a pattern that has seen no variation in the memory of any living here. They imagine being able to leave the confines of the university someday if the ban is lifted, and it scares them.”
Mari’s shoulders slumped and she lowered her head, cradling her face in one hand. “Can’t they realize that without change they’re doomed? You showed us last time that the population here has been dropping slowly for decades. Your small herd of domestic animals is dwindling, the water in more and more of your wells is being contaminated by leakage from the ruins outside, and…oh, what’s the point. I’m sure you’ve talked about all that.”
“I have,” Wren said. “I have to remind myself that they do not intend harm by refusing to take action.”
“But they do harm,” Alain said. “I was trained as a Mage, as was Mage Asha, and we were taught that our actions toward commons meant nothing. There was no harm in what we did to them because they did not matter. But that wisdom is flawed. Harm is done. Those who stand aside and refuse to help are choosing to aid the forces that harm others. That is an action. Mari showed me this: that it is not enough to see danger threatening, not enough to see that others will face the danger. It is necessary to help. If the Storm triumphs, it will sweep away the legionaries guarding Marandur, and then you can leave. But the world outside will then be like this one, and they will have worked to cause that to come to pass.”
Wren shook her head, looking miserable. “I have made those arguments. They cannot overcome the fears.”
“People can’t make decisions based on fear,” Mari said, raising her head to look at Wren. “Leaders, especially. I can’t afford to let my fears dictate my actions. If I did, I sure as blazes wouldn’t have come back to Marandur! I’ve got a responsibility to face those fears and get things done.”
“I wish you the best of luck,” Wren said, leading them down another stairway into a basement area. “I wish I could do more.” She indicated a nondescript door and offered Mari a key. “In there.”
Mari opened the door and stepped inside. “It looks like they maintained everything the way I shelved it when they moved it here,” Mari said, studying the rows of texts. She dropped her backpack on the floor and sighed heavily. “What do you think, Dav? With just us four carrying these, how many trips will it take?”
Dav looked around. “I’m guessing they’ll fill roughly twenty containers. We’ve got twenty-four—five sacks in each backpack and the packs themselves—so we’ll be all right there. But that would mean at least five trips to the river and back. We couldn’t carry more than one each and clamber through those ruins and defend ourselves.”
“That would be hard enough if we didn’t have to worry about the barbarians. After one trip back they’ll be watching for us. Laying traps. Ambushes.” Mari gave a despairing look at Professor Wren. “We’ll never make it.”
Wren stared at the floor. “I can do nothing else,” she whispered.
Chapter Twelve
“Perhaps an idea will come to us in the morning,” Wren said. Alain was sure even the Mechanics could tell that Wren did not believe her own words. “Come and rest. Surely rooms for the night will not be considered assistance.”
“I’m going to sleep here,” Mari said. “I want to keep on eye on these.”
“I will stay with you,” Alain said. He glanced at the stone floor, seeing tiles that did not match the fitted stone surface in his awful vision of Mari. That did not mean she did not face other dangers, though, or that she could not die before reaching that place.
“We’ll take a room,” Dav said. “It’s too tight in here for all four of us to lie down. But before we go there, I’d like to see two other things. Mari told me my ancestor’s grave is here. And there’s a room where he lived.”
“Of course,” Wren said, her expression firming with determination. “I don’t care whether they consider me showing you that a form of assistance or not. You deserve to see those, and I will wait as long as you wish to linger at them.”
“This one can come as well?” Asha asked Dav.
“Yes,” Dav said, smiling for the first time since they had entered Marandur. “Uh, this one would like you to be there with me.”
“I’m going to see your boiler,” Mari told Wren. “I promised some of the students that I’d check it for any problems that might be developing.”
“I will come with you,” Alain said.
“You don’t have to, but thank you,” Mari said. “Professor, we’ll go with you as far as the grave, because I want to see it, too. Alain and I can find our own way from there and then back here.”
Wren nodded, distressed again. “Master Mechanic, if there was anything—"
“I know. I don’t blame you. Nobody ever said being the daughter of Jules would be easy.”
Alain followed the others, his mind going over possible other ways to get the texts to the river but coming up blank each time. When they reached the place of memory for the university, Wren led them to an unobtrusive corner.
The plain stone bore only a name whose chiseled letters had been slightly blurred by time. DAV OF MIDAN. Dav knelt next to it, reaching out to touch the stone, saying nothing. Alain saw Asha hesitate, her hand reaching out and retreating as she fought her Mage training, until she was able to place her hand on Dav’s shoulder.
“Let’s leave them to their own thoughts,” Mari whispered to Alain. “Come on.”
They walked quickly across the darkened grounds, the route familiar from their earlier visit. Alain hesitated for just a moment as Mari opened the door to the place where the boiler creature lived, but followed her without anyone noticing. He was not sure whether to be pleased with growing more comfortable with the strange creations of Mechanics, or worried about it.
Inside, the room was lit by a single lantern turned low. The university did not have the luxury of wasting resources. Two students, both young adults, had been watching over the boiler and talking, but they sprang to their feet when Mari and Alain entered.
Alain had spent the walk worrying about the response Mari would receive here. A rejection by those she had trained would have hit doubly hard after the rest of the day. But he knew he need not have been concerned when both students broke into broad smiles as they recognized Mari.
“Welcome, Lady,” the woman said. “We were told you might come by, but didn’t really expect it.”
“We have been very careful to follow your instructions and training,” her male companion added.
“I remember both of your faces,” Mari said, cheering up a little at the reception, “but I’m sorry I can’t recall your names.”
“Student Ndele,” the young woman said eagerly.
“Student Leo,” the young man said, smiling.
“I’m going to look for anything that might need repairing,” Mari
said, her return smile slightly strained because of the tension inside her. “From here, though, everything looks great. You guys are doing a good job of keeping this equipment clean and maintained.”
As Mari worked her way over the equipment, Student Ndele turned to Alain. “Sir, is something wrong? The Lady seems upset about something.”
Alain wondered whether to speak of Mari’s mood to others, especially the secrecy surrounding the texts.
“If we’re doing something wrong here, we want her to tell us,” Leo said.
“She has not told me of any problems with your work,” Alain said. There seemed no good reason to deny the obvious. “She is unhappy because while the masters of the university have given us what we came for, something which was left here long ago by another Mechanic, the masters have refused any assistance.”
Leo made a face. “What does she need?”
“We have…texts, which must be carried to the river. There are many. It will require five trips or more.”
“Five round trips?” Ndele gasped. “Through the ruins? The barbarians will see the pattern in no time and ambush you.”
“They won’t help at all?” Leo asked. “After she did this for us?” He waved around the boiler room.
“No,” Alain said.
“What exactly did they say, sir?” Ndele asked.
“They said the masters would provide no more assistance to us of any kind.”
“The masters would provide no more assistance?” She looked at Leo as Mari rejoined them. Leo smiled in understanding, leaving Alain wondering what they were thinking.
“It looks good,” Mari told them, “but you’re using more grease than you have to on those valves. Put on just enough to keep them turning. You’re some of the best Apprentices, I mean students, I’ve ever worked with.”
“Thank you, Lady,” Leo and Ndele chorused.
“Sir Alain has told us of your problem. How much is it that must be taken to the river?” Leo asked.
“About twenty sacks,” Mari said. “Heavy enough that a person could only carry one at a time. We’ll figure something out. Um…we should go get some sleep. We’ll be starting out just before dawn tomorrow.”
“We are sorry that the masters will not provide help,” Ndele said.
As they left the home of the Mechanic boiler, Alain leaned close to Mari. “Students Leo and Ndele reached some decision after I told them of the problem.”
“What decision?” she murmured back.
“I do not know. I sensed…something that felt like mischief. There is no ill will in them. I am certain of that.”
“Maybe it’s not even something to do with us,” Mari said. “Those two look like they’re into each other, and they do make a nice couple, don’t you think?”
“What…makes a nice couple?” Alain asked, thrown off by the unfamiliar term.
. Mari smiled briefly at him despite her obviously lingering upset. “Like you and me. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow will be another long day. I should have asked Wren for blankets, but that would probably be assistance.”
Once back in the small room lined with shelves filled with texts, Mari did not sleep. Alain watched with growing weariness as she insisted on packing the texts carefully into the backpacks and then the sacks. Mari alternated between trying to be quiet so he might sleep, and keeping him awake by trying to carry on conversations with him about the contents of the texts as she saw various titles. Since Alain did not understand most of the words she was using, all he could do was make occasional noises that implied interest or comment.
She finally put out the lantern and lay down with him. He felt her shaking and held her. “Is it because of Marandur?” .
“Yes,” she murmured. “No. Why do we have to fight so many people, Alain? Why does the Storm have so many allies while we have to struggle to change things for the better?”
“I do not know. Fear is part of it, as the professor said.”
“I’m afraid! But I do what’s right anyway! People are counting on me!”
He could not think of a reply to that, so Alain held her until she finally fell asleep. He followed her into dreams of which he remembered nothing.
* * * *
The next morning, Alain awoke to a tapping on the door. At least, he assumed it was morning; it was pitch dark inside the room. On his way to the door he tripped over the bags that Mari had packed, while she struggled awake.
“Mari said to be here a little before dawn,” Dav said. He and Asha looked inside the room using Dav’s Mechanic hand light. “You guys already got the stuff bagged? Great. These, uh, students said you’d asked them to be here, too.”
“Students?” Mari got to her feet, running her hands through her hair as she tried to put it in some sort of order.
“Good morning, Lady,” Student Ndele said. Beyond her, Alain could see Leo and others. “We have brought friends to help you carry your burdens to the river today.”
Mari blinked in surprise. “But the masters said they wouldn’t provide any more assistance to me.”
“Yes, Lady.” Student Leo grinned. “The masters said they would provide no more assistance to you. But they did not prohibit the students from helping you on our own initiative, and nobody has told us not to.”
“Did you ask?” Mari pressed.
“No.”
“It’s the same rule everywhere, isn’t it?” Dav said, smiling as well. “Don’t ask the question if you don’t want to know the answer.”
“And,” Mari added, “it’s easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. This is…thank you.” She looked down, rubbing at her eyes. “Every time I start believing that this whole daughter job is just too big for my friends and me, I find out I have more friends than I realized. Um…here are the bags. Dav and Asha, take your packs and go up with the first students, then everybody wait until we’re all up there.”
As Alain led Mari out after the last of the student volunteers, more students approached out of the darkness, bearing weapons. Alain scarcely had time to be alarmed before the new arrivals were greeted by the others. “They’ll help guard us while we’re out in the ruins,” Leo told Alain.
It was still dark, the sky just beginning to lighten in the east, when the now large group was ready. “Can I have one moment?” Dav begged.
“As long as it is very short, sir,” Ndele said. “We need to get out of the university before any of the wrong people realize what is happening.”
“Very short,” Dav repeated, running off into the morning twilight.
“Where is he going?” Mari asked, too surprised to try to stop him.
“He says farewell to the grave of his ancestor,” Asha replied. “Last night we also saw the room where the departed Mechanic Dav of Midan once lived.”
“You did see the room?” Alain asked. “It is the place I thought you should see. What did you think?”
“I think, Mage Alain, that Dav is an even finer man than I once believed, and that his family is a fine one as well, perhaps even fine enough to accept a Mage.”
“Accept a Mage?” Mari asked.
“I have decided to accept Dav’s promise to me,” Asha said. “And to give him my promise.”
“Why didn’t anybody tell me about this?” Mari said, throwing herself at Asha and hugging her tightly. “I’m so happy for you.”
Asha, stiff from the unexpected human touch, recovered quickly. “We owe it to you, Mari. Thank…you. Dav returns.”
“We should go,” Student Leo urged.
“Right.” Mari shouldered her backpack and hefted her rifle.
Ndele and Leo led the way to the main gate, where the guards looked innocent and opened the gate without question.
“How many of you students are in on this?” Mari asked as the group trudged across the open area outside the walls.
“Twenty-four walking with us, Lady,” Leo said. “Sixteen helping to carry and eight guards. Plus a few dozen more at the gate and elsewhere, helping t
o cover up our absence from those who might ask the wrong questions.”
“I hope you don’t get in too much trouble.”
“We are in trouble all the time now as it is,” Ndele said. “Since you came and showed us how to use the Mechanic tools, we have wanted to use them on other things. And you told us of the world outside Marandur as it is today, rather than how it was when the city was sealed. We want to talk about that and address it in classes, but few of the professors will permit it.”
“You got them thinking, Mari,” Dav said.
“That’s one of my bad habits,” Mari said. “Ndele, Leo, everyone, I promise you I will not stop trying to get the Emperor to lift the ban on this city enough for you to get out if you want.”
“Would it be possible to come with you?” a student asked.
“I’m sorry,” Mari said. “Our ship will barely be able to hold us and these texts, and the risks getting back are going to be pretty huge, and once it was known that any of you had come out of Marandur despite the ban, the Empire would not cease sending assassins until you were dead. I’ve been an assassin-magnet myself long enough to know that’s not anything to wish on anyone else.”
They were almost into the ruins, the sun having risen enough to light up the field, when shouts could be heard faintly from the university walls behind them. Alain looked at the students, but all acted is if they had heard nothing. They did, though, refrain from looking back, and moved into the ruins with extra speed until the university was lost to sight.
The journey back to the river was no less difficult, but not as frightening with so many men and women around them. Querulous whistles began sounding on all sides, but they remained far enough off to make it clear that the barbarians had no wish to tangle with a group of nearly thirty.