Mari turned a guilty look on him as Alain rode up. “I may have laughed, but I’m not endorsing what Alli said.”
“And Alli didn’t mean it,” Alli added. “We love you guys as you are.”
“And we love you women as you are,” Alain said.
“Those Mage skills of yours give you a tremendous ability to keep a straight face when making a joke, don’t they?” Mari said.
She and Alain rode together, her escort close behind, to the bustle of Flyn’s headquarters, a large building still in decent repair that faced the central grand plaza of the city. Mari could see groups of people already working to remove the accumulated debris of nearly two decades of neglect from the streets, one of the first steps in the plan to get the city working again. A flagpole had been returned to the monument in the center of the plaza, from which the banner of Tiae once more flew.
Mechanic Bev was talking to some soldiers on the ground floor when Mari and Alain entered. Her face lit up when she saw them. “Long time no see.”
“Sorry,” Mari said. “Did you find anything in the vacant Mechanics Guild Hall?”
Bev shook her head. “Just squatters using it for living space. The Guild cleaned out the place when they abandoned it eighteen years ago, except for some workshops that are packed full of demolished equipment that has been rusting ever since. The Guild probably destroyed it as too heavy to move.” She gave Mari a sardonic look. “The core of the Calculating and Analysis Device looks like it was yanked out at the same time. Nothing is left of that except some memory cabinets.”
It took Mari a moment to remember what Bev was referencing: the orders the Senior Mechanics in Edinton had given Mari nearly two years ago to go to Minut and recover the CAD supposedly left there, orders that had convinced Mari her Guild had decided on her death. “I’ve been certain for a long time that the Senior Mechanics lied when they ordered me to recover that CAD. It’s funny that I ended up here anyway.”
“You came with an army. That was the only way to do it safely,” Bev commented. “I recommended to Princess Sien’s people that they clear out the squatters and offer the old Guild Hall to any of your Mechanics willing to work here. They can set up workshops again someday. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No. That’s what we’ve been talking about doing,” Mari assured her. “Mechanic Ken has been wanting to set up a new Mechanic presence outside of Pacta Servanda, and this might be a great place to start.”
“Ken could handle that,” Bev agreed.
“Alain, what about the abandoned Mage Guild Hall? Would any of our Mages want to take that over?”
Mari, thinking like a Mechanic who had a store of both good and bad memories of her former Guild Halls, and who thought of such Halls as being the center of her craft, was surprised when Alain paused to consider the question. “I do not know. We are seeking a different wisdom, and being surrounded by the illusions of the old wisdom might make that more difficult. I will speak with others about it. Will Bev be coming back to Pacta Servanda with us?”
“If she wants.” Mari looked a question at her. “You ready to head back to Pacta?”
Bev nodded quickly. “Truth to tell, I’ve been hoping to get back soon. I want to see how the kids are doing.”
Mari smiled. Bev had taken over running the schools teaching Mechanic Apprentices as well as commons seeking to learn basic Mechanic skills. “I’m sorry we hauled you up here for this, but I wanted someone I knew with General Flyn. I’m sure the kids are fine. Everybody knows if they even look wrong at one of them they’ll have to deal with you.”
“Yeah,” Bev agreed, glancing at Alain. “You never have told her, have you?”
“No,” Alain said.
“Go ahead. Not now, but when you want. It’s all right.”
Mari knew that awful things had happened to Bev when she had been an Apprentice at the Mechanics Guild Hall in Emdin, but had never pried to learn more beyond that. “I already know everything I need to know about you, Bev.”
Bev nodded to her. “I know you feel that way. That’s why I told Alain it was all right. When and where are we leaving?”
“Tomorrow just after dawn. East gate. Make sure Flyn knows you’re leaving so he can get any last-minute instruction on using his far-talker.”
“Just between you and me,” Bev whispered, leaning close, “I think the general considers that far-talker to be pretty much the same as a Mage spell, and he’s no more comfortable using it than he would be trying to cast a spell.”
Mari sighed and nodded. “The Mechanics Guild did too good a job of mystifying technology in the eyes of the commons. And even the Mages who accept technology can’t grasp it. Try explaining far-talkers to a Mage some time.”
Bev raised her eyebrows. “You’ve explained how far-talkers work to Alain?”
“Yes,” Alain said. “The message delivers itself, using an invisible ocean.”
“Waves,” Mari said. “Invisible waves.”
“Waves require an ocean,” Alain said.
“He has a point,” Bev said, smiling. “Are you going in to see the general now? Have Alain explain the far-talker to him. Flyn might actually feel more comfortable with it if he has that kind of explanation.”
The long line waiting to see Flyn parted before Mari just as commons would have for a Mechanic. It was the sort of response that made her feel guilty, despite knowing that they would have similarly made way for Flyn if he were coming in to see her.
General Flyn looked very tired, but in the manner of someone who could see good results from their labors. “Leaving tomorrow, Lady? I won’t be far behind you. I’m going to take most of the rest of our cavalry and sweep a bit north and east of the direct route back to Pacta. There’s a minor warlord operating around there who avoided our advance and may be feeling smug enough at the moment to be caught by surprise.”
“How much are we leaving in Minut to support Tiae’s forces?” Mari asked.
“A regiment, Lady. Very much under strength, and older volunteers for the most part. They’re good soldiers nonetheless, who can better serve your cause by keeping Minut safe and stable than by suffering on quick marches. The rest of our foot soldiers will march by various roads back to Pacta Servanda on a staggered schedule to avoid overtaxing the roads and the countryside.”
“You’re the expert,” Mari said. “I’ll see you in Pacta and we'll decide on our next steps.” The thought brought another smile to her face. “It’ll be nice to be in a place where I don’t need soldiers serving as bodyguards.”
“I’m glad that you brought that up, Lady. It spares me the need to do so. I know your escorts are a bit intrusive,” Flyn continued, “but you know why we need them. Just yesterday your Mages caught a Dark Mage trying to enter the city, and there’s little doubt why she was coming here.” He reached back and plucked a sheet of paper from behind him. “The Dark Mage was carrying this, the latest public offer from the Mechanics Guild for your death.”
Mari took a look, her eyes widening at the size of the newest bounty on her head. “That’s…a lot. I guess I can’t complain any more that the Senior Mechanics don’t appreciate my value,” she said, trying to make a joke of it.
“You should have escorts in Pacta as well,” Flyn said, keeping his voice reasonable and measured.
“What?” Mari shook her head. “No.”
“Lady, the danger is obvious, and as our experience in Minut has shown, that danger is spreading south. The Great Guilds may have been hoping that you would come north again into territories they control, or may have hoped that the Broken Kingdom would be the death of you, but they are clearly becoming more aggressive as your success continues.”
“I can’t live surrounded by guards!” Mari said. “Or locked up in a fortress! You know why I had to come to Minut along with the army. The…the daughter had to be here.”
“I do not dispute that, Lady,” General Flyn said. “I am trying to mold an army that can do your bidding without your pe
rsonal presence. We’re still a ways from that. But if you die…” He let the words trail off, leaving unspoken dire results to echo in the silence.
“Alain is always with me,” Mari said. “He was my guard from Ringhmon on, and he’s my guard now.”
Flyn nodded, looking at Alain. “I will not deny that Sir Mage Alain is worth at least a hundred ordinary guards in terms of his vigilance, his abilities, and his devotion to the task. But any man can slip, Lady, and even Mage Alain is a man in that respect. He’s not perfect. Some other guards—"
“I’ll consider it,” Mari said.
She knew Alain could tell that she had made that concession just to end the discussion, and apparently Flyn could as well. The general gave Alain a look that combined understanding with pleading. “We will consider it,” Alain said.
They left the building and Mari grumbled as she swung up into the saddle again. “Alain, aren’t you as sick as I am of being followed around all of the time?”
“We do have our own room,” he said.
“With guards standing right outside the door! Which is not soundproof! No healthy couple should have to worry constantly about whether they can be overheard when they’re alone together.” She shook her head at him. “I’m supposed to be freeing the world. Why am I in a prison formed of bodyguards?”
Alain paused before replying. “Is this one of the questions which is not supposed to be answered?”
“Rhetorical,” Mari said. “Yes. I know you don’t have an answer. I’m just venting. Do you mind if we ride to one of the foot soldier encampments? I should walk through and see how they’re doing and…you know. Say hello.”
“I know that such actions mean a great deal to those who follow you,” Alain said.
They rode off slowly, past groups of people working on the street and lines of people going into and out of the buildings where the future of Minut was being forged. Mari’s escort rode only a lance length behind, their weapons ready and their eyes alert. “If I can really make a difference,” Mari said, looking around, “maybe I’m not being asked to pay that high a price. It’s not like we’ll have to live with this forever.”
Her words must have triggered a memory in Alain. “Did you want to know what happened to Bev?” he asked.
Mari considered the question, then shook her head. “Not unless you think I need details. I’ve heard enough about how the Senior Mechanics at Emdin abused the Apprentices there, and how the Mechanics Guild just tried to hush it up without punishing the guilty or removing them from power. Did Bev ever tell you why she confided in you?”
“She worried that as a Mage I could see what she tried to hide,” Alain explained. “Also, she thought that a Mage would understand feeling different. And I believe that she wanted someone she knew would not judge her as others might.”
“Judge her?” Mari asked, incredulous. “She didn’t do anything wrong!”
“She questioned her choices,” Alain said, his voice growing impassive as it did when he became upset. “She questioned whether she had done things to bring it upon herself. I know those questions, which arise inside and seek to sustain the harm done to us. I felt them while I was a Mage acolyte. Those who do such things to others strive to shape the illusion we see around us, to alter the way we see the world and ourselves. A good teacher does something similar, and one who loves does it as well, but they shape the illusion in ways that make us stronger and better. Those who harmed Bev meant to create injury that would always cause her to doubt herself.”
“What can we do?” Mari asked.
“What you have done. Bev has friends who value her and respect her. She has been given important tasks.”
“If she needs more, I hope she’ll tell us.” Mari glanced at Alain. “You mentioned being a Mage Acolyte. There is something I’ve been wanting to ask. I know every scar on your body, every injury that was done to you in the name of making you a Mage, to teach you to deny or ignore every emotion and human connection and hardship and pain and pleasure. If that’s the only way to make people into Mages—if mistreating children and young adults is required to do that—should there be any more Mages?”
He paused before replying. “This has been discussed. Mage Asha, Mage Dav, and I have talked of it. We do not know the answer.”
“But you know what was done to you! How can the answer be hard?”
Alain looked at her, his face a mask. “What if it were Mechanics who were created so? What if your skills came at such a cost? And without that cost, no one could be a Mechanic? Would your decision be easy?”
Mari wanted to blurt out an immediate “yes,” but hesitated as she thought. What if that was the situation? Being a Mechanic Apprentice hadn’t been much fun. It hadn’t been anything like the abuse suffered by Mage Acolytes, but there had been plenty of rough times and rough treatment in the name of teaching discipline and skills.
But she was proud of her Mechanic skills. Proud of what she could do. Just like Alain was proud of his Mage skills.
Suppose Mechanics were like Mages, and the decision was made that the cost to make Mechanics was too high? No new Apprentices, the existing Mechanics growing older and fewer as years went by, until the day the last one died and the last electric light shut off along with so much else. No more Mechanics, and everything that Mechanics could do gone, the hulks of their devices rusting away until Mechanics and what they could once do became the stuff of myth.
Mari shook her head, depressed by that vision. “I…I guess it wouldn’t be that simple a decision, would it? Not if we thought about how we felt. But we have to think about the acolytes, Alain. Why can’t there be another way to train them?”
“We are trying to imagine such other ways,” Alain said. “I feel…” He paused again, looking downward. “If other ways cannot be found, this generation of Mages should be the last. I think…that would be the right thing. If the painful costs of becoming a Mage must be borne by those without the power or the knowledge to say no, then those costs are too high.”
Mari reached across the space between them to grasp Alain’s hand. “I’m sorry. Sometimes the good choices are the hardest ones.”
“There may be other ways to teach,” Alain said. “I will keep trying to find them.”
“A few years ago, I would have thought a world without Mages would be great,” Mari said. “Now I think it would be sad. As an engineer, I know how to make the world work in certain ways. But I’ve seen the importance of having a little magic in the world as well.” Another depressing thought came to her. “All of these changes, Alain. Some of the things that we’re doing are not just necessary but good. Like making the Mechanic arts available to all, and helping put Tiae back together. But we can’t know where they’ll all lead. Are they helping? Have you had any visions about the Storm being stopped or at least getting weaker?”
Alain shook his head. “No. My last vision still showed the Storm as a threat to the world, and to you.”
“When was that? A while ago?” Mari asked hopefully.
“The evening after the city of Minut was retaken,” Alain said.
She felt a gust of despair. “You mean nothing we’ve done yet has made any difference?”
“I did not say that,” Alain said. “All I mean is that the foresight warnings have not changed.”
Mari’s anguish changed to irritation. “That does not help at all! Unless-—" A thought occurred to her. “Maybe it’s a tipping-point situation.”
“A what?”
“There are situations where you add stuff and add stuff and nothing seems to be happening,” Mari said. “Because it’s not enough. But it’s all adding up. Like trying to shift something by adding weight to one side. You add weight and you add weight and it just sits there. But then you hit the tipping point, which is when you add just a little more and the thing flips over all at once. Same thing with trying to boil water. You have to keep adding heat until the water boils. Maybe stopping the Storm is like that. We have to hit a
point where the changes to this world have gotten big enough so that the Storm won’t fade or get less worse, it’ll just cease to be a possibility. Unfortunately, that means we’ll have to achieve enough change to cause everything to tip. Anything less than that wouldn’t save us from the Storm.”
Alain was looking at her intently, a tiny furrow crossing his brow as he tried to absorb her words. “I think I understood that.”
“There, you see?” Mari said, feeling better. “Maybe you’ve reached a tipping point in understanding Mechanic stuff!”
“Or a tipping point in understanding you,” Alain said.
“That’s— What do you mean by that?” Mari demanded.
He got that wary look which appeared when Alain was not sure what he had done wrong. “You see the world illusion very differently from how I do. The way you explain things is sometimes very different from how I see things.”
“That’s a pretty smooth explanation on your part,” Mari commented. “Sometimes you go all Mage on me at very convenient times.”
Alain frowned slightly again, then changed the subject in what he doubtless thought was a subtle way. “Speaking of Mages, if you wish to reach Pacta Servanda quickly and safely, you could ride on one of the Rocs. Mage Alera could bring you there in a day’s time.”
Mari laughed. “Oh, yeah. Me, flying to Pacta on the back of a Roc! Alli’s already giving me a hard time for cavalry following me around when I ride. The last thing I need is to do grandstanding stuff like using a Roc for my chosen transport. I don’t want my fellow Mechanics thinking I’m taking the daughter of Jules stuff seriously.”
He revealed confusion this time. “But you take it very seriously. You have ever since I told you that you were…that one. It upset you very much.”
“I don’t mean it like that, Alain,” Mari explained. “I take the responsibilities and the dangers that come with it very seriously. But I don’t want people thinking that I believe I’m somehow special and deserve special treatment just because of the prophecy.”
“You are special,” Alain said.