The Dragons of Dorcastle (13 page)

“Thanks. I thought, stars above, Rindal’s finally going to get it. Because we’d all heard him arguing with Senior Mechanics, saying things like ‘we need to do this differently’ and ‘it’s wrong.’ ”

Pradar nodded with a pained look. “Father said that Uncle Rindal had a big mouth. I remember he was…sort of opinionated.”

“I took them through the Guild Hall to Mechanic Rindal’s room,” Mari said, reliving memories of that night. The strangely menacing Mechanics walked in a tight group, saying nothing, Mari in the lead terrified of doing something wrong, whatever “wrong” was to those people. The normally busy halls had been otherwise empty and silent as they always were at that late hour, dimly lit at intervals by night security lighting. Mari had kept hoping that someone else, anyone else, would come by, but she saw no one. Finally reaching Rindal’s room, she had pointed it out to the strange Mechanics. “The leader told me to walk away and not look back, told me that I hadn’t seen anybody or anything, and that I was never to talk about it to anyone by order of the Guild Master. But I did look back as I was rounding the corner and partly in a deeper shadow. I saw them pulling Mechanic Rindal out of his room, and his arms were already locked behind his back, and there was a hood over his head.”

Mari shook her head, the old helpless feeling returned. “And in the morning, all anyone knew was that Mechanic Rindal was gone.”

“That’s…what we’ve feared,” Pradar whispered back to her in anguish. “You never told anyone?”

“I told a couple of my friends. They told me to keep quiet, that I couldn’t do anything but…but I might end up just like Mechanic Rindal if I didn’t keep my mouth shut. Because…everybody already thought that I had a big mouth, too.”

“That was good advice,” Pradar said. “You couldn’t have done anything. My father told me he thought Uncle Rindal had been sent to the Guild prison at Longfalls, but we could never turn up any evidence of that. I’ll tell him what you said, though I won’t tell him who told me, and maybe he can finally find out what happened to Uncle Rindal. Maybe he’s still…”

Still alive? Mari’s thoughts had never gone there. Imprisoning a dissident Mechanic was one thing, but executing him? “Be careful,” Mari said. “If your father raises too much fuss—”

“He’ll end up disappearing like Uncle Rindal. I know. You probably thought Uncle Rindal was a lot more than a big mouth, right?” Pradar asked. “That he was a traitor or something?”

“Yeah,” Mari admitted. “Just arguing shouldn’t have—”

“Made him disappear. Yeah. But he wasn’t a traitor, Mari. My father said Uncle Rindal wanted only the best for the Guild. He was loyal. But he wanted to fix things.”

“I can understand that.”

“It’s what Mechanics do, right? What we’re supposed to do.” Pradar glanced up and down the hallway, his nervousness returned stronger than ever. “Thank you. I really mean that. Keep your head down. The Senior Mechanics here are as touchy as old explosives.”

“I heard about Julesport—”

“It’s not just that. It seems to have something to do with you. If I can do anything—”

Mari shook her head. “No. You keep your head down, too. I’ll do my job and I’ll get out of here. Analyze, repair, test, and gone.”

“Good idea.” Pradar nodded in farewell, then walked away quickly.

Mari shut the door, ensuring the lock was set, then leaned back against the wall.
Great. I had trouble sleeping for weeks after that incident, and now the memory’s come back full force
.

I never really believed that Rindal was a traitor. Why keep it secret, if he was?

Why would me being here upset the Senior Mechanics so much? Pradar must be reading too much into that
.

Trying to relax by sheer force of will, Mari lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing she could gain access to the long-distance far-talker in this Guild Hall so she could speak to someone at the Guild Headquarters in Palandur. No, even if the opportunity arose she wouldn’t request access to long-distance communications, even though that was her right as a Master Mechanic. Her first job, and the first thing she did was run crying back to someone like Professor S’san? That would just convince everyone that Mari really was too young to be a Master Mechanic.

And what would she say? That Senior Mechanics were acting unhappy with her? That wasn’t exactly a new development. The Senior Mechanics had to abide by the rules they had written for advancement to Mechanic and Master Mechanic status, but one of the last things Mari had heard before leaving Palandur was that those rules had been changed to establish requirements for longevity as an apprentice and Mechanic rather than just using tests of expertise. Change was not permitted. Except apparently change was permitted if it meant that someone like Mari could be blocked from promotion in the future. It seemed her records for reaching Mechanic and Master Mechanic status would stand forever, since no one else would be allowed to move up as fast as she had.

It couldn’t be more obvious that the rule change was aimed at me, but it didn’t go through in time to block my promotion to Master Mechanic. That was thanks to Professor S’san. I didn’t know why was she pushing me so hard those last six months at the academy, but now I know she must have been tipped off about the rule changes wending their way through the Senior Mechanic bureaucracy. She wanted me to qualify before they took effect.

And what have I done to repay her? Things like my little show with Guild Hall Supervisor Stimon in the dining hall. S’san would probably rip my ears off for that. “Unprofessional, Mari.” Which it was, I guess. But it felt good.

I could try talking to Trux and Cara again. But I don’t really know them, not well enough to confide in, and if I do seek them out, and if the Senior Mechanics have marked me somehow, then I’d just be causing trouble for Trux and Cara.

There’s no one else in this city I know.

A memory of Mage Alain arose unbidden. It wasn’t that they had talked a whole lot, but rather a feeling that despite their differences they could have talked more. Was it his youth, so close to her own that made him somehow seem sympathetic to her despite his disreputable status as a Mage? Was she feeling pity for a boy who hadn’t remembered what to do when someone said thank you? Or had she actually found something to like in him in their time together in the desert?

Unthinkable. Yet as Mari lay in the dark, listening to stray sounds within the Guild Hall that should have been comforting in their familiarity, she found herself wishing the Mage were here to keep an eye out while she slept, just as he had in the desert.
You’re crazy, Mari. Wishing a Mage was in your room with you? You were out in that desert sun too long.

And I can take care of myself. I’ve known I was on my own for a long time now, ever since—

No. I will not think of my…parents. They abandoned me, but they cannot hurt me anymore.

Think about the job, Mari.

But that attempt ended up looping back to thoughts of the Mage.
How did Mage Alain know about my job here? I can’t talk to anyone about
that
. I can’t even admit I know the name of a Mage. If anyone in the Guild even suspected I had divulged Guild secrets to a Mage I’d be busted back to apprentice and shipped off to…well, actually, there isn’t anyplace worse than Ringhmon, I guess
.

Except Longfalls.

I am not a traitor. I’m totally loyal to the Guild. They wouldn’t send me there
.

They sent Rindal
.

The job, Mari. Focus on the job. It has to be tough or they wouldn’t have sent for you to do the repairs.

“Beware that which thinks but does not live.” What about my job tomorrow worried Mage Alain?

The next morning, Alain had barely finished his filling but tasteless breakfast when an acolyte informed him that his presence was required in another part of the Hall. Alain followed the acolyte, not looking forward to explaining the fate of the caravan.

Alain found himself led into a darkened room. The acolyte bowed his way out, shutting the door and leaving Alain alone to face the vague shapes of Mages seated before him. He could not see their faces, but they could see him clearly thanks to a shaft of light coming from a lamp positioned near his face. Alain had never experienced an Inquiry before, but clearly his elders were now calling him to account for his failure.

A woman’s voice spoke without feeling. “We are told you were in the company of a Mechanic for days.”

“A Mechanic escaped the destruction of the caravan with me,” Alain confirmed, surprised that the Inquiry had led off with that question.

“Why?”

“She sought safety from the bandits.”

“Do not mock us, youthful Mage!” The emotionless voice managed to hold a harsh edge. “Why did this Mechanic accompany you? Why did she seek safety with
you
?”

“She—”
Ordered me to accompany her? No. I should not say that.
“We were the only two survivors. She said that she believed we had a higher chance of surviving together.”

“You spoke with her.” The flat words nonetheless carried a surprising amount of force and condemnation.

“Yes. She is a shadow. Whether I speak with her or not does not matter, for she is nothing.” Let them condemn that.

The following pause might have meant they were searching for grounds to deny his reasoning, but if so could not come up with any. “The Mechanic gave no other cause for attaching herself to you?”

Thinking up a lie would require a delay which the elders would spot. Alain answered immediately and tonelessly. “She said that she did not want me to die.”

“An obvious lie,” a man’s voice declared. “No Mechanic would care about the fate of a Mage. Could you not tell it was a lie?”

The less said this time the better. He did not want to betray to these elders how the Mechanic had affected him. “No. I did not see deception in her when the Mechanic said that.”

“Too young,” one of the elders grumbled tonelessly. “A capable Mage would have seen the lie. The Mechanic must have wanted something. What did she ask of you?”

Alain had to think this time before answering. The Mechanic had actually asked very little of him that he could recall. “She asked me how I created fire. She did not understand how I could do it. I did not tell her.”

The third shadowy figure spoke, his voice that of an old man. “Of course she could not understand. Surely you had at least enough sense to not waste your time trying to explain wisdom to a Mechanic? What else did you tell her? What did she want?” the old Mage continued, his voice becoming accusatory enough for the emotion to be obvious.

“She wanted to survive,” Alain repeated, unable to think what else his elders expected him to say.
She would not drink the last of the water and leave me.
He did not understand that himself. How could he explain it to these elders?

The woman spoke again, suspicion shading the blandness of her tone. “This Mechanic was a female? A young one?”

“Yes, elder.”

“You are young as well.”

“Yes, elder.”

“What did she attempt with you? Did she ensnare you?”

“Ensnare me?” Alain asked, not sure what that meant.

“Did she seduce you, fool, while you were alone together?”

Alain could not remember the last time he had laughed. It had been a very long time ago. The absurdity of this question almost caused him to gasp with something that might have sounded a bit like laughter, though, which would have angered his elders beyond measure. It took all of Alain’s training to snuff out that sound before it reached his lips. “No, elder. The Mechanic never approached me in any way.”

“She never touched you?”

“Once. She touched me once.” As far as Alain could recall, there had been only one time when the Mechanic had initiated a touch, and he would be a fool indeed to volunteer that he had one time extended a hand to her.

“Once?” The elder pounced on that.

“I was weak from casting spells to kill bandits. She took my arm and helped me stand.”

The silence was longer this time. Then one of the elders said a single word. “Helped?”

Alain hoped desperately that no emotion was showing on his face. “That is what she called it.” Not a lie. No. He had told these elders exactly what had happened. Would they press him on whether he understood what the word meant?

Another pause, then the elders apparently decided not to pursue an issue that might awaken the wrong memories in Alain. “She teased you with her touch, then withheld her gifts,” the woman elder said. “Did she display herself, offer the promise of her gifts in the future?”

“Display herself?” What could that mean?

“Did she flaunt her body before you?” the elder demanded.

Alain could not think of anything which the Mechanic had done which qualified as flaunting. He was not certain exactly what “flaunting” meant. He had been around only female Mages or acolytes since he was very young, and all of them followed Mage teachings to take little notice of physical appearance or physical desires. That certainly was not flaunting.

The Mechanic had not seemed all that different. She clearly kept herself clean when not fleeing bandits in the desert, but she also had not worn the heavy make-up that Alain had noticed on some common women.
Common attempts to create their own illusions of beauty
, another elder had said contemptuously to Alain before he left the Guild Hall in Ihris.

But none of those women, who had displayed much more flesh than he had ever seen of the Mechanic, had seemed so…interesting. Why had they settled into a barely recalled blur while she remained clear in his memory?

He had been aware of the Mechanic’s body. He had sometimes found himself watching her walk when he was behind her, and even though she had kept her jacket on almost all of the time, Alain had caught glimpses of her wet shirt clinging to her. The memories of those sights had been troubling his nights since then. “She wore a shirt which was sometimes soaked with sweat—”