The Dragons of Dorcastle (24 page)

The air around them went pitch black.

Through a haze of total exhaustion, Alain could hear shouts of alarm and terror from in front of them. A familiar thunder boomed in the hallway and things whipped past him with angry cracking sounds. The Mechanic weapon must be launching its projectiles, but with no way to see his targets the chances of the soldier getting a hit must be very small. Alain stumbled, falling, his strength almost totally gone, but a firm grip caught him and propelled him forward. He realized that Mechanic Mari must almost be carrying him, despite his weight and her own tiredness. She was again risking her own life to save him.

Mechanics were not supposed to do that sort of thing. But this was not a Mechanic. This was Mari. Where was she getting the strength to carry him along? His fatigue addled mind dredged up an answer: that it must come from the same place he had found the means to cast this last spell, a place where strength could be found when none remained. She had shown him how to find such a place, and now she was using it as well to save them both. The thread and its odd effects ran both ways.

They crashed into a tangle of bodies, broke through in the confusion, and moments later hit something hard that shattered under the impact. Their rush carried them through the broken window and there was nothing under their feet.

His strength completely failed, the spell broke and sight returned. Pieces of glass were flying through the air all around, rotating and spinning away with what seemed to his overstressed mind to be dreamlike slowness. Next to him, one arm wrapped about his arm, Mari rolled in midair with her head tucked into her elbow for protection. As his own body spun in the predawn dimness, Alain saw bushes rushing up to meet him. Or perhaps he was falling onto them. Both were only illusions of his mind, so he surrendered to weariness and waited for his body and the bushes to rush together.

Guild Hall Supervisor Senior Mechanic Stimon didn’t look happy. Mari gazed back at him, her own face carefully showing nothing. She was surprised to realize she had learned a little more of that useful trick from watching Alain. She felt triumphant inside, though. Triumphant and in high spirits. She was free, and she had gotten some serious revenge last night, all with the help of Mage Alain.

Stimon’s nose kept wrinkling, so Mari guessed that she and her clothing must reek of smoke even though she couldn’t smell it any more herself. “The Hall of City Government in Ringhmon has been totally consumed by fire,” Stimon growled. “The fires still rage amid the shell of the structure. The city is in an uproar. And you come here covered with ashes and trailing the scent of burning.”

Mari nodded. “I was close to the fire. I had a contract at the city hall, as you recall.”

“You went to that contract yesterday! What were you still doing there in the early hours of this morning?”

“It was a very complex job,” Mari said earnestly.
If you know more, tell me. If you suspected I might have been in danger, I want to hear it from you.

Stimon’s face reddened. “The City Manager told us you had completed the job and left the building.”

“Obviously, he was mistaken.” Mari locked her eyes on Stimon, daring him to take the word of a common against that of a fellow Mechanic. “Though I certainly appreciate your concern for my welfare, Senior Mechanic Stimon. You’ll be happy to know that the healer in the Guild Hall has seen to the injuries I acquired…while escaping the fire.”

“How fortunate that you were able to escape…the fire.”

Glowering at Stimon, Mari leaned forward. “Shall we dispense with the lies? As you should’ve already been told, I’ve reported that I was knocked out, kidnapped by the City Manager of this stinking pestilence of a city, and managed to escape only by great luck.” It had been hard to explain how she had done so without mentioning the Mage, but Mari had kept the details fuzzy, claiming lingering effects from the blow to her head.

Stimon sat, glaring at her. “Is there anything else?”

“Does there have to be? A common person assaulting and kidnapping a Mechanic? You should be calling for the man’s head,” Mari snapped. “And it’s certain that the attack on my caravan was also an attempt by Ringhmon to kidnap me before I even reached the city.”

“Do you have any proof of that?”

“The bandits used the same rifles—” She broke off as Stimon shook his head.

“Proof,” Stimon repeated.

“I saw some of them in Ringhmon!”

Stimon’s voice remained implacable as he slammed his hand on the desk. “Proof!”

“You want proof of something?” She dug in one pocket and tossed what she found onto Stimon’s big desk. “I found that inside the cell where they’d locked me.” Stimon just looked at it, his face revealing nothing of his thoughts. “It’s a far-listener, one apparently not made in any Mechanics Guild workshop. And the problem with the Model Six that used to be in the city hall? The secretly contracted Model Six Form Three, that is, and thank you so much for informing me of that before I went there. The problem was a contagion, Senior Mechanic Stimon. Do you know what a contagion is? A banned piece of thinking cipher. One that bore no hallmarks of anyone I have ever encountered in the Guild who knows thinking ciphers.”

Stimon finally pursed his lips, his face intent. “We shall have to look into this.”

“Pardon me, but you really don’t seem to be as alarmed as you should be. I’d appreciate knowing why.”

“This is a very serious matter.” Stimon looked at her steadily, his own face now as unrevealing as that of a Mage. “I will look into this,” he repeated. “I will send a full report to Guild headquarters. Did you find anything on the Model Six aside from the contagion that should not have been there?”

“Yes. I found evidence that Ringhmon was trying to figure out how to make rifles.” It was this news that finally made Stimon’s eyes widen and his jaw clench. “But that doesn’t matter, does it?” Mari demanded. “Because no matter what they learn, commons can’t do that kind of thing. Right?”

“Of course,” Stimon said in a tight voice.

“Because I also found a contagion of murky origin on a calculating and analysis device, and a far-listener apparently not made in any Mechanics Guild workshop
.
Guild Hall Supervisor, as a loyal member of the Mechanics Guild, I am concerned about the implications.”

“The implications?” Senior Mechanic Stimon had gone cold and still. “What are you implying? That commons can do the work of Mechanics? Are you saying that the justification for the Guild’s existence is a lie?”

Her confidence unraveled as the leading questions came at her. Mari tensed. Here, inside the hall of her own Guild, she felt as frightened as she had inside the dungeon of Ringhmon. “No. I want to know the real reasons so I can act in accordance with the needs of the Guild and in its best interests.” She hoped her voice had sounded calm and not as shaky as she felt inside.

Senior Mechanic Stimon watched her, his eyes narrow. “Do you believe that your interpretations of recent events are accurate?”

“I—” Mari had been taught to respect her Guild and her superiors in the Guild. Fear had played a role in that teaching—fear of failure, fear of administrative punishment and demotions—but she had never been truly afraid of her Guild. The Guild was her family. The only family she had left. How could her family threaten her? She wasn’t a common. “No. They were possible explanations and I want to know the real ones.”

Stimon smiled thinly. “Mechanic Mari, before you arrived, this Guild Hall was told that you were extremely good at your work, but weak in the areas of discretion and experience. You have proven the first part of that to be true by accomplishing what Master Mechanic Xian could not. It would be in everyone’s best interests if the second part proved to be false and you displayed much more discretion than is to be expected from your past behavior.”

She let the deliberate dropping of Master from her title pass this time. “
Think, Mari,”
Professor S’san’s voice sounded in her memory.
“Think before you decide what to do.”
“I understand.”

“Do you? The Guild takes care of its own, so your word will be accepted,” Stimon declared, as if believing her was a great concession rather than simply what should be expected. “The Guild will deal with Ringhmon,” Stimon added, in a voice that sent a shiver up Mari’s back. “There will be an example made. If revenge is what you desire, then you need not worry on that count.”

Mari simply nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Now, as to you.” Stimon leaned back, keeping his eyes on her. “Your information is placed under Guild interdict. Do you understand? Everything that happened here. Everything you found. You are to mention nothing of this to anyone while the Guild investigates.”

Mari stared for a moment, jarred out of her apprehension. “Guild interdict? A Guild Hall Supervisor can’t order a Guild interdict on his own.”

“You’re not very good at following Guild rules, but you seem to have memorized them all. I’m not ordering the interdict on my own.” Stimon shoved a piece of paper toward her. Mari reached for it, saw the ornate letterhead and read:
Any Mechanic reading this is advised that the things he or she has learned must not be divulged to anyone. Matters of Guild security and Guild interest are involved. Only a Guild Master may lift the restriction. Signed, Baltha of Centin, Grand Master of the Mechanics Guild.

She looked up and saw Stimon watching her. Mari read the letter again, trying to understand why the Guild would give Stimon open-ended power to apply an interdict. Stimon must have the backing of powerful Mechanics elsewhere. This wasn’t an isolated operation, whatever was going on. Her tentative ideas of reporting Stimon to Palandur crumbled half formed. “How will I know the progress and outcome of the investigation?” she finally asked.

“If you are meant to know, you’ll be told,” Stimon informed her. He opened a drawer, pulled out a document and shoved it toward her. “By happy coincidence, the weekly train to Dorcastle departs at noon. You’re to be on it.”

“Dorcastle? I thought I was supposed to return to Palandur when my work was done here.”

“Dorcastle,” Stimon repeated, his voice hardening. “The Guild is ordering you to Dorcastle. You will find out why when you get there.”

A new contract already? Why would Dorcastle need her skills? But it was obvious that Stimon was not going to provide any more information. Mari picked up the ticket, reading it with a growing sense of disorientation. “At noon? Today?”

Stimon steepled his fingertips and nodded. “Today. You’re to be on that train without fail, Mechanic Mari. Do I need to put that in writing?”

“No.” She looked back at Stimon’s smug expression, her sense of right and wrong warring with her common sense. Provoking Stimon now, challenging Stimon now, would be foolish no matter how he baited her.

As too often happened, common sense lost. “It’s Master Mechanic Mari,” she corrected him.

Stimon curled his lips in a false smile. “Master Mechanic Mari.”

“Will I have an escort to the train station?” She already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from him.

“No. You can make your own way there.” Stimon’s smile stayed fixed.

“Even with recent events in Ringhmon? You still don’t think I’m in any danger?”

“You have your orders. For the good of the Guild,” Stimon stated calmly.

How can he do this? There shouldn’t be any doubt in his mind that I’m really in danger here. I could so easily be waylaid on my way to that train station. It’s like Stimon doesn’t just want me out of here, but that he wants me…dead? No. That’s impossible.

Isn’t it?

The Guild would never—

The Guild lied to me about Mages.

How many other lies have there been?

Stimon let impatience show. “Is there anything else?”

She shook her head, worried that anything else she said might condemn her.

Stimon nodded. “Good. But there’s one more question the Guild has for you. You were seen dragging someone away from the building during the fire. You did not mention that person in your report. Who was it?”

Mari wondered how Stimon knew that. At the least it implied that Stimon had spies keeping an eye on the city hall. Spies who should have been able to tell him that she hadn’t left the building last night. Even if she hadn’t been increasingly worried, Mari wasn’t about to be truthful about who she had been with.

She shrugged as casually as she could. “A young man. He jumped from a window and landed in some bushes. Since he needed help, I dragged him to safety.”

“Where is this young man now?”

“I don’t know. After he recovered he went his own way, and I had to return to this Guild Hall. He wasn’t my responsibility.” She met Stimon’s gaze as coolly as she could. Mari had lied to Guild superiors before, about things like sneaking out of the apprentice barracks at night, but never about anything like this.

“All right. Go.” Stimon waved her out. “I don’t want to see you again.”

Mari, feeling dazed, left the Supervisor’s office and found the female Senior Mechanic with the apparently permanent sour expression awaiting her again. Once more Mari was escorted through the Guild Hall, down to the service areas where she was allowed a few moments of privacy to change clothes and have her old clothing cleaned of the smoke smell and ashes, the Senior Mechanic invoking the Guild Hall Supervisor’s authority to obtain a rush job. “I need something to eat,” Mari insisted while they waited for the clothing to be cleaned. She was led to the dining area and grabbed a late breakfast, sitting eating alone while the Senior Mechanic took care of some paperwork at another table and the other Mechanics in the room avoided eye contact with her.

But as she looked up one time, she saw Cara and Trux watching her anxiously. Trux made a thumbs up and an encouraging grin while Cara and the other Mechanics at that table nodded. Then they all looked away quickly, before their actions could be noticed by any Senior Mechanic.
I guess I’m not completely alone, but everyone else is too scared to act. Maybe they’ve got more common sense than I do. Maybe? Admit it, Mari, there’s no “maybe” about it.