The Dragons of Dorcastle (28 page)

“Thanks. You’re a
good
friend.” She hesitated again. “You do understand, I’m
only
a friend. Nothing more.”

“More?

“
Nothing
more. Just remember that. Now, don’t use my name around anyone else. Just call me Lady Mechanic. Would you be willing to carry my tool kit down?”

It was Alain’s turn to hesitate. “Mechanic tools? I have been told many warnings about those. I was told they were dangerous. You said they could be weapons.”

“If you misuse them, they can be dangerous,” Mari admitted. “And they can be deliberately used as weapons in an emergency. But they are perfectly safe to carry. I swear it. I need to have a reason for you to be with me. I’ll tell them that I got injured in Ringhmon and need someone to carry my bag down the cliff for me. The other Mechanics know I was at the City Hall fire, so they’ll believe me. I’ll say that I’m paying a common to haul my stuff. Mechanics do that when we need manual laborers. Understand?”

“You were not really hurt in the fire?”

“No.” She sounded pleased. “It’s nice of you to ask again, though.”

“Your fellow Mechanics will not think it odd that you would not just leave your tools near what you call the locomotive?”

Mari paused before answering. “It’s hard to explain. It’s not just that the tools are really expensive because so few are made, or that apprentices get it drilled into them that losing a tool is a sign of incompetence. Those tools represent who we are in the same way that your…skills…represent you.”

Alain nodded. “I understand the importance that shadows can attach to illusions, but wisdom would say that what represents a Mechanic, or any other shadow, is what is found within them.”

“Um, yeah,” Mari admitted. “Maybe we’re not all that wise in wanting our tools close at hand. But a tool you don’t have is a tool you can’t use, so it’s more complicated than a matter of self-image. Anyway, that means everyone will think it’s perfectly normal for me to want my tools with me.”

“Then I will do this.”

For the second time that night, he saw her smile. “Thanks.”

A few minutes later a group of the Mechanics detached themselves and headed for the cliff edge. Mari followed, beckoning to Alain. By the time they reached the edge, the other Mechanics were already climbing down toward the patch of beach dimly visible below, now choked with tangled wreckage. Mari offered him the bag she had been carrying, and Alain, after a moment’s hesitation, took it. She smiled encouragingly at him, an expression which almost immediately changed to intent worry as she turned away. Then Mari started down, moving cautiously from rock to rock.

Alain looked downward to the barely seen jumble of broken wood. Then he gazed out to sea along the dark lines of waves rolling toward the shore. If a dragon had done this it might still be lurking nearby, in water shallow enough to stand in. It might attack again, this time rending not wood but anything else it encountered. Alain tried to judge his strength and the power to be found in the area around them.
I probably could not defeat a dragon big enough to do that kind of damage, even at my best.

But Mari has asked for my help. She seems confused and uncertain.

I want to help her. I had thought that helping her would remove my need to help her again, but the more I help Mari, the more I want to help her. I erred a great deal in my assumption. But that error is not of importance. My road leads down this cliff tonight. I do not care if it is wisdom or not.

He took another look at Mechanic Mari, clambering stubbornly downward, and began climbing down after her.

* * * *

Mari started to wonder if she was actually having another kind of nightmare. As she went farther down the cliff, the rocks kept getting looser and harder to get good hold on. Lower still her hands and feet started slipping where spray flung up from the sea had wetted the rocks. Beyond that, she started to get into the tangle of fallen pieces of trestle, mighty pillars of wood which had been twisted and splintered into jagged spears. Worse yet, thoughts about the Mage kept distracting her. A near-death experience had led her to do what she had absolutely, positively vowed not to do: reach out to Alain as a companion again.

Just a trusted companion. I’m a big girl. I’m not a slave to emotions. My feelings caught me by surprise, that’s all. I was scared. I was vulnerable. I felt sorry for him. He had saved me. So it wasn’t really real feelings, just gratitude and stress and all. I can handle this, get to know him and find out everything that’s wrong with him. He may be a Mage, but he’s also a guy, so he has to have plenty of stuff wrong with him. I’ll learn what his flaws are, and then I can put him in perspective.

Unless he turns out to be as good as he seems. Then I’m in trouble.

At last she ruthlessly blocked out all thoughts of anything but the climb down, until Mari found herself taking a final step down onto a small area on the beach where she could stand.

As beaches went, it wasn’t anything to inspire songs. Small and covered with pebbles instead of sand, the only thing good thing was that it offered decent footing in the areas not covered by wreckage or by large rocks which had fallen from above.

The other Mechanics were already clambering over the wreckage, muttering to each other. One pulled out a knife and thrust it into a broken piece of wood. “Solid here, too. No rot,” he called.

“The foundations are still firm,” another announced.

“No fire damage visible,” a third declared.

Mari watched for a moment, waiting for Alain. None of the other Mechanics took notice of her. They all seemed to know each other, and most seemed to be from Ringhmon. The only Mechanic on the train with whom Mari had gotten on halfway familiar terms was the engineer, who had stayed up on top of the cliff with his locomotive.

“Obvious sabotage,” a Senior Mechanic was concluding, his voice angry. He kicked at a shattered pole. “These were broken not far above ground by something pulling at them from seaward.”

“By what?” a woman Senior Mechanic demanded. “This has to be the work of Mages. No one else has the resources and the cold blooded deceit to carry it off. But how did they do it?”

Mari spoke finally, her voice carrying over the group. “Wouldn’t it have been easier for Mages simply to set fire to the trestle?”

The Senior Mechanic gave her a disdainful look. “How would they have built a fire down here with that salt spray wetting everything?”

“They’re supposed to be able to produce heat by some means,” Mari said. She couldn’t have been the only Mechanic present who had seen the results of that, and she wanted to see how these Mechanics reacted to her carefully phrased suggestion.

The woman Senior Mechanic shook her head, the gesture aimed as much at Mari as at her statement. “No, child. That’s just a parlor trick. It has no practical use. You’re that sixteen-year-old, aren’t you?”

“
Eighteen
-year-old,” Mari corrected, realizing that the correction didn’t sound as impressive as she would have hoped.

“Of course,” the woman Senior Mechanic said. Turning away from Mari, she began conferring with the male Senior Mechanic and some others in a low voice.

Mari, trying to control her anger at being so summarily put down, noticed a couple of the other Mechanics frowning toward the group including the two Senior Mechanics. Another one gave Mari a what-can-you-do sort of look before going back to examining the wreckage.

“Your elders?” someone murmured very softly near her in an emotionless voice.

Mari turned to see that Mage Alain had reached the beach and was eyeing her with his usual dispassionate expression. “My superiors, yes. How could you tell?” she added dryly before pointing toward the wreckage. “Well?” she whispered. “Give me some facts to work with.”

The Mage ran his eyes over the mess. “If it were a dragon, it would need to use its hind legs to do the heaviest work. Those are much stronger than its forelegs.”

“Really?” Mari nodded, trying not to think about the absurdity of seriously considering facts about dragons. “Then do you think it would have had to brace itself, maybe with its front limbs, and push back against the bases of the poles? Wouldn’t that have buried it when the wreckage fell?”

“Dragons can be very swift, and they are very tough.”

“I don’t think I want to meet one. Have you?”

“Yes. In my training. It was…” Alain paused. “Interesting.”

“I bet it was.” Mari beckoned him to follow and led the way through an ugly mess of splintered wood and bent metal until they found a sort of open area framed by wreckage. Here they could view the cliff face as long as they didn’t try to stand up. She pulled out a hand light and clicked it on, causing the Mage to utter a sudden low gasp. Smiling to herself at having impressed someone who could walk through imaginary holes in walls, Mari ran the light across the rock. “Look. These abrasions.” She pointed at scars on the rock.

“Those could be claw marks,” the Mage agreed cautiously.

Another voice intruded. “Did you find something?” It was one of the sympathetic Mechanics. He gave both Mari and Alain curious looks.

Mari nodded, then gestured toward Alain. “A common I hired to carry my tools down here. I got hurt at Ringhmon.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about that. So what’s back here?”

Mari pointed to the rock face. “This.”

The other Mechanic, ignoring Alain now, crouched to look. “Those are fresh.” He looked up and around at nearby wreckage. “And they weren’t caused by any of the wreckage hitting the cliff. Good job, Mechanic.”

Mari smiled at him. “Master Mechanic, actually.”

“Right, right. Sorry.”

“Not a problem. Do you mind me asking how you guys managed to get your car uncoupled from the train and stopped?”

The other Mechanic blew out a gust of air with a relieved expression. “Dumb luck, I guess. Our two Senior Mechanics happened to be out on that little shelf between cars, so when they felt the train stopping they figured they’d better plan for the worst and make sure we stayed safe.”

Mari’s eyes rested on the cliff face. “Amazing luck. Of course, the engineer and I might well have been dead.”

“Yeah. I didn’t mean to minimize that.”

“Why would they have been out there this late?”

He shrugged. “Maybe they like each other and needed some privacy.”

“That’s a scary thought.” The other Mechanic grinned as Mari jerked a thumb in the direction of the group still conferring together. “Should we tell them about these abrasions, or do they already know everything that needs to be known?”

The other Mechanic rolled his eyes. “You know the type, I guess. Go through the motions of researching the problem when they’ve already decided what the problem is and what they’re going to do.”

“I usually end up having problems with Mechanics like that.”

“Don’t we all.” He gave her a searching look. “It sounds like you’ve heard what we were told about you.”

“No, but I’ve got some pretty good guesses. Unprofessional? Inexperienced? Out of her depth?”

“Loose cannon,“ the other Mechanic added. He looked unhappy this time. “Not very professional of them to attack your qualifications that way, if you ask me. The academy wouldn’t have certified you if you hadn’t passed the exams. Who was your primary instructor at the academy?“

“Professor S'san,“ Mari said.

“S'san?“ The Mechanic's eyes widened. “If you got her approval, you're one of the best. Don’t worry about those Senior Mechanics. We think they got sent to Ringhmon because no one else would have them. I’ll tell them what you found. My name’s Talis, by the way.” He scrambled off through the wreckage.

Mari became aware that the Mage was watching her. “What?”

“He seemed like…a friend toward you,” the Mage said in a voice that as usual didn’t reveal much.

“I suppose. Nothing like you, though.” Mari rubbed her forehead, wondering when her head would stop aching. Was it her imagination that her last statement had caused the Mage to relax a bit? “But he acted like you weren’t even there. Like you didn’t exist.”

“He believes me to be one of the commons,” the Mage pointed out.

Mari stared into space. “So he ignored you. Because commons don’t count to Mechanics.”

“Or to Mages.”

“I do that, too.”

“Not to me.”

She glared at him. “You know what I mean!”
The Mage regarded her. “I have been thinking on this. You and I have been taught to think in a certain way of those who do not belong to our Guilds. I know you to be a shadow, one with no significance. You know me to be a Mage, which you were told are but frauds and liars.”

Mari looked out to sea, through the tangle of wreckage. “And if what we were taught about each other is wrong, maybe what we were taught about commons is wrong. Or do you think what we were taught is wrong?”
He stayed silent for a moment. “I think that there are questions which what I was taught do not answer. I did not even know some of these questions existed until I met you.”

“That’s funny. Pretty much the same thing happened to me. And now that I have those questions, you’re the only person I can talk to about them.”

“Would another Mechanic have done what you did at the caravan?” Alain asked abruptly. “Insisted I come with them?”

“No,” Mari said, reluctant to admit that but not wanting to lie to Alain. “Even if they hadn’t shot you, they would have just run off in another direction and left you. Would another Mage have reacted the way you did?”

“I do not know. Some other Mages might have. If it was you. You…are different.”

“I hope that’s a compliment,” she said dryly. “There’s nothing all that special about me.” Mari closed her eyes, feeling a sudden urge to admit something she had not been able to talk about for years. “My parents were commons. Both of them.”

“Were?” the Mage asked. His voice actually seemed to hold a little sympathy. “I am…” Alain struggled, as if trying to say
sorry
but the effort was too much for him.

“That’s all right. I know what you mean. Thank you for trying to say it. But they’re not dead.” She turned her head and studied the marks on the cliff face as if something new could be seen there. “Might as well be. After I tested as having the skills and was taken to the Mechanics Guild for schooling, I never heard from them again. After awhile I stopped writing, too.”
And it doesn’t hurt anymore, it doesn’t hurt anymore, it doesn’t hurt anymore.