The Dragons of Dorcastle (6 page)

The Mage gazed back without visible emotion. “I want to…help.” He said the word again as if it were an unfamiliar thing, and she remembered his hesitation when she had been falling earlier, as if he were unsure what “help” meant.

Mari nodded, trying not to show the wave of pity that hit her. “All right, I can understand wanting to help someone. But why do you want to help me? Our Guilds have been enemies for their entire histories, as far as I know.”

“I do not understand it myself.” The young Mage looked down. “You saved my life. When I was ready to stand at the wagon and die because I could not think of anything else to do, you made me come with you. If you had not led us up the side of the pass I would have passed from this dream into the next already.”

Her memories of those moments were obscured behind veils of fear, but Mari remembered the Mage seeming lost and indecisive, having to be ordered to follow her. “I thought you said dying didn’t matter. That everything is an illusion. Why do you care about living now?”

The Mage almost frowned as he pondered the question. She was sure of it, even though the expression barely appeared. Finally he looked back at her. “There are many illusions I have not yet seen.”

Though delivered without apparent emotion, the open humanity of the statement won her over. “All right. I’ll trust you.”
That will make a nice saying to engrave on my tombstone: She trusted a Mage. But it’s that or just give up
.

Between the lingering heat, her thirst, and exhaustion, Mari found herself drifting in and out of consciousness as they waited for it to get fully dark and the movements of the bandits to subside. At one point she saw her best friend Alli sitting nearby, fiddling with the broken rifle that Mari had left on the ledge with the dead bandits. She didn’t seem to have changed in the two years since Mari had last seen her, aside from the fact that Alli was now wearing a Mechanics jacket like Mari’s.
What are you doing here?
Mari silently asked Alli.

Fixing this rifle. You need it, right?

Yeah. If anyone can fix it, you can. You always loved weapons, Alli
.

Weapons are way safer than boys, Mari. What are you doing here with one?

He’s not a boy. He’s a Mage.

He’s a boy Mage, Mari. Why are you hanging out with him?

I have no idea. It must make sense somehow. Why didn’t you write me more than a couple of times after I left the Mechanics Guild Hall in Caer Lyn? Why didn’t you answer my letters?

But Alli didn’t answer and when Mari roused herself enough to focus, she was gone.

Most of the bandits rode out just before sunset, many back to the east along the track the caravan had taken but some to the west toward Ringhmon. The pass, already murky with shadow, grew rapidly darker as the sun fell below the horizon.

“I will go now.” Mage Alain’s voice was cracked with dryness that sounded as bad as that which tormented Mari, but he moved surely as he crawled over the rock barrier and began heading downward.

Mari hitched herself up far enough to watch him for a while. She had been right in guessing that he was physically tough. Even after the exertions of the day and the lack of water, Mage Alain didn’t seem weak now.

He also wasn’t particularly hard to see in his Mage robes, even in the gathering darkness, but as the Mage reached the floor of the pass he vanished. She blinked, wondering if fatigue was affecting her eyesight, then slumped back down, half-delirious with thirst and hoping she had done the right thing by trusting the Mage.

He could be selling her out right now. Telling the bandits where she was in exchange for his life and enough water and food to reach Ringhmon by himself.
Who would be fool enough to trust a Mage? You, Mari. Not like you had any choice. But if he does try to sell me out, those scum won’t take me easily. I can’t run, but I can fight.

Mari propped herself against the rocks so she could see down the slope, then drew her pistol. She lay there, trying to rouse herself occasionally to look for anyone coming up, but the slope stayed empty.

The weapon in her hand was a deadly thing, but in this case far overmatched by the numbers and firepower of the bandits. Using it even once would bring the bandits upon her.

The words that Professor S’san had spoken as she gave Mari the pistol remained engraved in her memory.
“This weapon I am giving you is a tool, an emergency tool. It is not to be depended upon as a first resort, or a second, or even a third. Your greatest assets will always be your mind and your ability to act on wise decisions. Fail to make proper use of those assets, and the weapon cannot save you. Remember that, Mari.”

Great advice, Professor. Just how do I use it now?

Mari turned the weapon, thinking that if she had simply fired when the Mage loomed out of the murk, she probably would have killed him. Then, when she fled, the bandits on the slope would have caught her or killed her. Thinking, instead of firing, had saved both of them, at least to this point.
What a strange tool this pistol is. Normally a tool exists to be used. But it’s as if this one is best not used, unless absolutely no other option remains. I guess that is what Professor S’san meant. But if she gave it to me, she must have thought I might face that kind of situation. I really hope I never end up in that kind of mess.

She had no idea how much time had passed when a dispassionate voice whispered, “Master Mechanic Mari.” Mari blinked. The Mage had appeared close to the ledge. She hadn’t seen him coming up, which was odd since the slope was so open. But he was back, and no bandits were with him, so she breathed a sigh of relief and holstered her weapon. Even through her daze, Mari couldn’t help noting that the Mage had an easier time remembering her Master Mechanic rank than Senior Mechanics did.

Mage Alain slid over the top of the rocks, several bundles cradled in his arms. “The large water barrels have all been smashed, but some of the wagons were untouched as of yet, so I was able to get supplies from them.” Opening one of the packs, the Mage pulled out several clay bottles and worked the cork free from one. “Here. Water.”

Mari’s hands trembled as she drank. It took all of her self-control to keep from gulping down the entire bottle at once. Finally she lowered the bottle, gasping for breath but feeling a tremendous sense of relief. “How can I ever repay you?”

“Repay?”

“You know,” Mari said. But Mage Alain looked back at her as if he didn’t know at all. “I’m in your debt,” she said. “For the water. So I asked how I could pay you for it.”

“Pay.” The Mage shook his head. “That is a matter for elders to deal with.”

“I wasn’t talking about giving you money.”

He eyed her with that unrevealing expression. “I have no use for money.”

She felt a twinge of fear, and let her expression harden as she gazed back at him. “I hope you don’t think you’re going to get anything else from me.”

Was that puzzlement in the Mage’s eyes again? “I do not want anything from you. Why do you prepare to fight?”

Mari realized that one of hands was gripping her pistol. She let go of the weapon and forced herself to relax. “I— Sorry.” That earned another blank look. “You don’t know what ‘sorry’ means?”

The merest hint of a frown line appeared on the Mage’s brow, as if he were struggling to remember something. “It is forbidden,” he finally said.

“Forbidden,” she repeated. “Why?”

The Mage shook his head. “The teachings of my Guild.”

“Guild secrets?” Not too many hours ago she would have laughed, thinking that the only secret the Mage Guild had to keep was the fact that it was all a fraud. But she had seen some inexplicable things since then. “It has something to do with that heat you created?”

He gazed back at her silently, no trace of emotion visible.

“Guild secrets,” Mari answered herself. “Fine. I understand that you can’t talk about that. Whatever the reason is, I wasn’t trying to insult you or hurt your feelings. ‘How can I repay you’ is just an expression, another way of saying thanks.”

“Oh.” The Mage sagged back against a rock. His expedition seemed to have exhausted him again, as if whatever he had done to stay hidden had cost him a lot of extra effort. “I am unused to different ways of…of saying thanks.”

“I’d noticed,” Mari said. “What’s it like down there?”

“There are still some bandits present. I got close enough to overhear their conversation.”

“I’m not sure I would’ve had the courage to do that,” Mari admitted frankly. She saw a hint of surprise on Mage Alain’s face, then a trace of embarrassment.
When the Mage gets tired, he doesn’t hold his mask as well. Good. I prefer being with someone who acts at least a little human. Too bad being exhausted and getting out of this alive are mutually exclusive.

Mage Alain pointed back down the way the caravan had come that morning. “They believe you must have stolen a mount from one of the guards and fled down the road. Most of them have pursued on their own mounts, feeling sure they will run you down by morning at the latest.”

Mari inhaled deeply, trying to suppress a shudder. “They are after me. Did you hear why?”

“No.”

“They didn’t track us up the side of the pass, then? They didn’t find where you had killed those three bandits?”

The Mage nodded. “Yes, they found that place. But since it was clearly the act of a Mage, and none of the weapons were taken, their leaders believe that is the way I fled. They believe I will soon die alone in the desert waste, and assume since I went that way no Mechanic would willingly have taken the same path.”

She smiled at the chance that had misled her pursuers. “It wasn’t entirely willingly, I have to admit. We were under some pressure.”

“I do not understand why you keep saying ‘we’ or ‘us’ when you speak of you and I,” Mage Alain said. “The two of us are together, but hardly companions.”

Mari bent her head, resting her forehead on one hand and feeling incredibly weary now that her thirst had been dealt with. “I’m just being efficient. ‘We’ is a lot easier to say than ‘you and I.’ ”

“I see.”

“I wasn’t being serious. I was using sarcasm.”

“How can I tell when you are being serious?”

Mari raised her head to look at the Mage. “I start speaking in short sentences, my voice gets loud, and my face gets darker.”

“I will remember that,” Mage Alain answered with no emotion but apparently perfect sincerity.

Exhaustion, tension, the relief of getting water, the Mage’s safe return, and the simple absurdity of it all finally got to her. Mari started laughing, holding her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound but unable to stop for a while. The Mage eyed her, waiting silently. “Sorry,” Mari finally managed to gasp. “I just…what do
we
do from here? Do you think the road toward Ringhmon will be safe if those bandits are searching for me the other way?”

He thought about that, then shook his head. “I doubt the road will be safe. From what we know,” he paused after the phrase and gave her a dispassionate look before continuing, “they have more than enough numbers to scour the road in both directions for you.”

“Then what do we do? Strike out overland?” She waved at the rough terrain. “We could spend weeks trying to get through this, and unless I’m mistaken there’s only a few days’ worth of water here.” Mari tapped the bottle closest to her. “You said you saw the caravan master’s map? How far do we need to go to reach someone who can help?”

The Mage frowned very slightly, not to reveal emotion but in thought. “There were wells along the caravan route, but I cannot recall their locations. The first place where any were marked was, I would guess, about halfway from here to Ringhmon.”

“We were supposed to be in Ringhmon in six more days. So, on foot, at least three or four days’ travel to reach these wells?”

“I would say so. It could be as much as five days on foot. Along the road.”

“ And we have to avoid the road. Any ideas?”

Mage Alain shook his head. “Not right now. Why do you ask me my opinion? You are a Mechanic. I know Mechanics do not respect Mages.”

Mari shrugged. “You seem to understand some of this stuff, things about fighting. You said you were taught about it. That kind of material wasn’t part of my education. And…I like knowing what other people think. Even if they want me to make the decision, I want to have their input. I hate it when people make decisions about me without asking me about it, so I’m not going to do that to other people.”

“Why not?”

Could that question possibly be sincere? “Because I want to treat them right.”

“You speak of how to act toward shadows? They are nothing.” She, too, was only a shadow, the Mage Guild's teachings told him. She, too, was nothing. But he felt a strange reluctance to say that to her again. “What is 'right'?”

She took a deep breath. “Look…I don’t like being treated badly myself, and I don’t enjoy treating other people badly. I tried being rough on people who were junior to me a couple of times when I was an apprentice, because that was expected of you when you got some seniority, and I really didn’t like doing it, so I haven’t since then. That’s what I mean by treating people right.”

Mage Alain spent a while thinking before he spoke again. “Why does that matter?”

“Because it does. To me.” She wondered why she wasn’t getting angry at the Mage’s attitude, and realized it was because he appeared to be genuinely puzzled.

“This is how Mechanics think?”

Mari had to look down, biting her lip. She didn’t want to admit the truth, not to a Mage, but it was a truth everyone on the world of Dematr already knew. “Not all of us. Many Mechanics treat common people badly, because…because the Guild says they don’t matter.”

He nodded. “I had not expected any wisdom from the Mechanics Guild.”

“It’s not wisdom! I don’t think it’s wisdom.”

Mage Alain studied her, then nodded again. “You do not lie. You have not treated me badly, even though you are a Mechanic.”

“Yeah…well…” Mari looked down, feeling embarrassed. “My instructors used to complain that I didn’t listen to everything they told me.”