The Assassins of Altis

Chapter Two

Without another word she spun and started running toward the walls of Marandur, her pace reckless in the snow-covered rubble. Alain followed, only occasionally pausing to look back for any pursuers. They scrambled up and down piles of debris, moving hastily through the ruins. Mari cut left, weaving between fallen buildings, and Alain followed, guessing that she was trying to confuse anyone trying to follow.

A dark, menacing shape loomed up before them, causing Mari to swing to one side with a muffled cry and aim her weapon, but then she lowered it with a gasp of relief. “It’s a wrecked siege machine,” she whispered to Alain. He followed her past the crumbling remains of a large Imperial ballista, its outlines vague in the snow so that it seemed almost troll-like.

The snow was coming thicker now, and the sky had darkened as the afternoon drew on. With visibility getting worse by the moment, Mari had to slow down. Alain could hear her gasping for breath, and himself felt the strain of scrambling quickly through the hazardous obstacles after a long day already spent picking their way through the ruins. They struggled through a heavily damaged area where no buildings stood at all, just higher and lower piles of ruin, leaping across occasional gaps that were all that was left of the streets which had run between the buildings.

Mari had slowed to a stumbling walk, so Alain came up beside her. “Can you keep moving, or should we seek a hiding place?”

“They’re after us, Alain,” she wheezed. “If we stop, they’ll catch us.”

“I do not hear the whistling they use to signal each other, but I agree.”

“If they did whistle, at least we’d have some idea how close they are. How are you doing?” Mari asked him.

“Weary, but I can keep moving,” Alain assured her.

“Same here.” Mari was peering ahead. “On this side of the river, the distance from the university to the city wall shouldn’t be nearly as far as we had to come when we sneaked into the city. I have no idea how much distance we’ve covered so far, but it shouldn’t be much farther to the wall.”

Alain put his arm about Mari, supporting and comforting her as they struggled through another badly damaged area. That brought hope to Alain, since they knew some of the areas of worst damage were near the walls, where the rebels had made their initial stand once the walls were breached.

“Stars above, we made it,” Mari sobbed, as the high, thick stone walls which had formerly protected the city of Marandur rose out of the murkiness of the storm and the fading day. Great gaps were visible in the walls, places where Imperial siege machines, Mechanic weapons, and the spell creatures of Mages had broken the mighty stones and tumbled them inward upon the buildings they had once defended.

Mari slowed down, walking very cautiously toward the nearest break in the wall. She reached the wall and stopped completely, breathing heavily as she looked out through the jagged hole in the wall. Even through the thickly falling snow they could spot faint glows in the fields beyond: bonfires burning in front of and on the Imperial watch towers outside the city. “We have to wait here a while. It’s barely dark, and even with the snow I’d prefer waiting until later to sneak through those Imperial sentries.”

Alain nodded, breathing deeply himself. “We have been going very fast. I would like a chance to recover before we try getting past the legionaries. If we have need of spells, I will require my strength.”

“That makes it unanimous.” Mari sat down against the wall near the break, facing in toward the ruined city, her weapon cradled in both hands. She stared at it and closed her eyes. Then her expression took on a grim and reluctant determination and Mari opened her eyes again and lowered the weapon’s front so it rested ready to defend them. “It’s a tool,” she said, as much to herself as to him. “It can be used for bad purposes, or good purposes. I have to ensure that I only use it when I must, and only for the best of reasons. I wish I didn’t need it, but I do.”

Alain sat down beside her, peering into the swirling snow. “Your words are wise,” he told her. “I increasingly feel the same about my spells which can harm.” As nervous as he was about the barbarians tracking them to this spot, he was more worried now about trying to get past the Imperial sentries. “I am assuming there will be a Mage alarm set around this part of the city as well, just as there was where we came in on the northern side.”

“Yeah.” Mari sat silent for a moment. “Maybe the snow and the ruins muffled the sound of the one shot I fired back there and the Imperials didn’t hear it. I don’t see any sign that they’re more alert than usual. Do you sense any Mages anywhere near us?”

“No,” Alain said. “I sense no other Mages at all.”

“Why don’t you sound happy about that?”

“Because there should be some trace of Mages,” Alain explained. “The Imperials employ some Mages to help maintain their quarantine of Marandur. Why can I not sense any even at a distance now, as I did when we entered the city?”

She inhaled with a hiss of breath. “They’re hiding themselves just like you are?”

“I believe so. It would mean they are alert and prepared. The sound of your weapon may have carried far enough to warn them something is happening in the city. We must assume there may be a Mage, or more than one, not far distant. I must be very careful about using any spells at all, or our chance of discovery will become much greater.”

“Wonderful.” Mari sometimes used words when she appeared to mean the exact opposite, such as now. Alain could not think of anything about this situation which he would call wonderful. “If we’re lucky,” she continued, “the Imperials will hole up in their watch towers during the storm. If we’re unlucky, they’ll increase the number of patrols just in case someone’s trying to use the storm as cover to enter or leave the city. Maybe they heard enough noise from my one shot to alert the Mages, but if nothing else happens for a while they’ll relax again and decide the boom was something collapsing. Once it gets dark enough, we’ll find out just how alert the Imperials are tonight for people trying to sneak out of this city instead of trying to sneak into it.”

“Who would be fools enough to sneak into Marandur?” Alain asked. “Who would want to enter a dead city in ruins when the Emperor has decreed that anyone doing so must die themselves?”

Mari looked over at him and grinned despite the worry he could see in her. “You’re getting good at sarcasm, too. I hope I’m not creating a monster. And no, I don’t mean ‘creating a monster’ in the same way you Mages do.” She kept her voice just loud enough for Alain to hear, her eyes going back to searching the ruins for any signs of the barbarians. “But you’re right. Only fools would have done it.”

Mari sounded concerned and weary to Alain, so he moved a little closer, offering his shoulder, and she leaned against it with a happy sigh even though her weapon remained ready and her eyes alert. “But it was a good idea,” Mari continued. “With the technology in the banned Mechanic manuscripts we found we can really change things. If we have enough time.”

“And if we can reach the island of Altis,” Alain said, “and find there the tower which is spoken of in those manuscripts. It will be a long journey, filled with many hazards. You are certain we must go to Altis?”

“Yes,” Mari said without any hesitation. “The notes on that page of the manuscripts said records of ‘all things’ are kept in that tower. That note must have been written a long time ago, but old records are exactly what we need. Unless we can learn something about the history of our world, something about how it ended up the way it is, we won’t know how to fix things. We have to go to Altis and find that tower, even if it is in ruins now, and learn what we can from any surviving records. People expect me to change the world, to make it better, but I can’t fix something that big unless I know how it came to be broken.”

“Then we must go to Altis.” Alain could feel against his back the edges of the water-tight package in his own pack which held his share of the manuscripts. Mari had shown him some of the Mechanic documents, but he had understood none of them. He did know that Mari was convinced that these texts could change the world, and that was enough for Alain.

“You’re very quiet,” Mari whispered to him. The snow had kept falling, and was now coating them as well the ruins. “Talk to me. It’s cold and I’m scared. What are you thinking about?”

“I was thinking that none of my fellow Mages would be able to understand what I am doing,” Alain admitted. “They, like me, were taught that the world we see is an illusion and that all people are but shadows on that illusion. We were told that the works of Mechanics were all tricks. They are obedient to the Mage Guild because that is drilled into us as young children. Yet here I am, having thrown off the discipline of my Guild, which seeks my death. I have decided that at least one other person is a thing of a great value, having fallen in love with that person despite my training to reject all feelings, and she moreover a Mechanic, member of a Guild which is the ancestral enemy of the Mage Guild. Other Mages would think me mad.”

In the gathering gloom, Alain sensed more than saw the smile on Mari’s face. “Maybe not every Mage. That old girlfriend of yours was trying to understand.”

“Mage Asha was never my girlfriend. Why do you keep calling her that?”

“Because I don’t believe you, my Mage,” Mari said. “But that’s okay. Asha felt like a good person trapped in a Mage’s teachings, just like you were before I met you and, uh, ‘ensnared’ you. She tried to help us back at Severun. I hope she’s all right.”

“Yes,” Alain agreed. “It would be… nice to have more friends, after so long being alone.”

Mari’s voice took on that slight edge it still sometimes did when talking about Asha. “Just as long as she doesn’t try to get too friendly with you.” She looked out over the dead city. “Alain, if we fail, if we can’t break the grip that your guild and my guild have on Dematr, the whole world could end up looking like this.”

“It will end up looking like this,” Alain said. “Within a few years at most. Uncontrolled wars, breakdown of the governments of the common folk, mobs, rioting, the same anarchy that has riven what once was the country of Tiae in the south. The efforts of our former Guilds to control the bedlam will only magnify the chaos, until the Guilds are swept away along with all else.”

“Unless…” Mari drew in a deep breath. “Unless the daughter of Jules stops it by overthrowing the Great Guilds first. Alain, why is it me? Jules died centuries ago. Who knows how many women descended from her have lived since then? And I don’t even believe that she’s actually my ancestor. Why me? Why now?”

“I do not know for certain,” Alain said. “I would say that it must be now, because no more time remains. And I would say it must be you, because there is no one else who could do it.”

“Neither of those conclusions is particularly comforting,” Mari grumbled.

They sat quietly then for a while, listening for trouble, watching for danger, as the darkness grew heavier along with the snowfall. The wind had calmed, and aside from the gentle hiss of the falling snow nothing moved or made a noise. But Alain distrusted that sense of peace, wondering what moved silently beyond their very short range of vision.

Some pieces of rubble rattled not too far away, a tiny avalanche of debris that brought both Mari and Alain to full alertness. The heavily falling snow made it hard to tell exactly where the noise had come from. Mari stood up very slowly and carefully, trying not to make a sound, snow cascading from her as she rose. Alain waited until she was ready, then he did the same, snow showering off his body with a soft murmur. Perhaps it was just the nearest ruins shifting as they decay. Perhaps. A scraping sound came from somewhere close by, as if something had rubbed up against something else. But I do not believe it.

Alain put his mouth to Mari’s ear, speaking as quietly as he could. “They are out there. I am sure of it. We must go now.”

She nodded wordlessly, then lifted one foot, moved it slowly to the side, brought it down with great care, then slid a little ways along the wall. Alain followed, his eyes and ears straining for any more signs of their pursuers. A fight now would surely alert the Imperial watch towers.

Another rattle not far away. Alain thought it might have come from their left. Mari kept moving as soundlessly as possible, easing right with her back against the wall, almost to the nearest gap now where the wall had been breached long ago.

Alain clearly heard a foot come down in the snow, then the rasping of breath from more than one man. They are almost on top of us. He reached for Mari’s arm and pushed her toward the break in the wall, knowing that only speed could save them now.

Mari jumped, grabbing the edge of a huge, broken stone to steady herself, then vanishing around the corner. Alain leaped after her, hearing the rush of feet and the rattle of debris as their pursuers also abandoned any attempt at stealth. He made the corner, rounding it into the break just as hands grabbed at him. Alain lunged forward and down into the opening in the wall, trying to break the grip and found himself staring up at Mari, who had her Mechanic weapon in her hand and was swinging it like a club instead of firing it. He heard the thud of the weapon’s impact against something, then the hands on him let go and Mari was pulling Alain up and along. The ancient wall was thick here near its base. They had to skid across broken, massive stones slick with snow, not knowing in the murk how much farther they had to go. Then they suddenly dropped into darkness.

Alain had only a moment to feel the fear of the fall before they landed in a snow drift which had piled up on the outside of the walls. He and Mari staggered out of the drift, not knowing whether their foes would try to chase them beyond the -city walls. They had not gone more than a short distance before they heard the unmistakable thumps of more bodies landing in the snow drift behind them.

“We’re trapped between two enemies,” Mari gasped. “If we move too slowly those barbarians will catch us, and if we run at the Imperial line they’ll see us or we’ll trip that Mage alarm you warned me about and—”

“That is what we must do,” Alain said as the answer came to him. “We must distract the Imperials, and we have to deal with the barbarians. Or let each side take care of the other for us.”

“What do you—?” Mari got it, her words sounding with sudden enthusiasm. “Use our two problems to cancel each other out? That’s some brilliant math for someone who doesn’t know geometry, my Mage.”

Alain pulled Mari close. “Hold tight to my cloak. Use both hands. And come along as fast as possible.”

Alain went straight ahead, walking as quickly as he could in the snow with Mari at his back. They could hear the sound of others behind them. Then Alain spotted the drifting strands which indicated a Mage alarm. Instead of trying to move the strands aside, Alain walked through them.

He walked a little farther, then paused as he felt a presence not too far distant. “There is a Mage near,” he breathed into Mari’s ear. He heard her muffled curse. “Release me, walk near, and drop flat and motionless when I say to.”

He felt her nod, then Mari was coming along beside him, her face grim. She knew he could not cast a spell now without the other Mage knowing and quickly finding him. But with the snow so heavy and the night aiding them, perhaps they would need no more invisibility.

Alain sensed the Mage coming closer. He or she would be moving with Imperial soldiers, thereby providing a rough picture of where the legionaries were. Then Alain heard the rustling sounds of someone forging through the snow behind them. He dropped, pulling Mari flat as well, and hurriedly brushed snow over her back and his own as best he could, waiting while the snow fell on them.

Someone blundered past them from behind. Alain did not dare move his head much, but he caught a glimpse of shaggy hair and a shapeless mass of rotting old garments before the barbarian moved on a little more without spotting Alain or Mari.

Moments later Alain heard noise from in front and saw the glow of torches through the snowfall. “Stay very still,” he murmured to Mari, his lips touching her ear. Already the snow had laid a thin, concealing layer over them both.

A long line of Imperial soldiers came tramping through the snow, one legionary in five holding a flaring torch aloft and the others with drawn swords. A second line came into view behind them almost immediately, these legionaries bearing crossbows. A yell of alarm sounded and the barbarian Alain had seen earlier came floundering through the snow, trying to make it back to the city. Alain heard the thump of crossbows firing, and the barbarian staggered, standing and swaying for a moment before falling face down in the snow less than a lance length from Alain, a crossbow bolt protruding from his back.

The Imperial soldiers were close enough together to have made it impossible for someone to get past them without being seen, but there were gaps between each legionary, and the soldiers were searching for foes on their feet, not expecting anyone to be concealed under the snow. Alain watched the legionaries coming, tensing in case he had to act, but the mound of snow forming over him and Mari as the heavy snow continued caused the closest legionaries to veer to either side to avoid the apparent drift. There were cries behind and to the side, then shouted orders. The Imperials broke into a trot, chasing the barbarians back to the city, intent on killing every one that they could. Legionaries searching for fleeing enemies before them paid little attention to the snow beneath as they swept past to either side of Alain and Mari, one so close his foot almost brushed against Alain.

Alain waited just a little longer, then staggered up, pulling Mari with him. “Now we walk.”

Her voice was chattering with cold. “Walk? Toward the Imperial watch towers?”

“Yes. The illusion we wish to create is that we are part of the legionary force. We are hard to see in the darkness and the snow, and we do not resemble the barbarians. Walk as if we belong here, Mari.”

“You’re the Mage.” Mari walked along with him, trudging through the snow but trying to look like she was in no hurry as she matched Alain’s pace. “Where’s that other one?”

“Not too far distant. I cannot tell if he seeks me.”

“Then link arms with me so we look like one of us is supporting the other.”

Alain did not ask why, putting his arm about her as they struggled through the snow toward the Imperial watch towers and the large fires burning between them.

The air grew brighter as they neared the Imperial beacons, Mari and Alain aiming between them as if walking toward a watch tower. Behind them, occasional shouts and metal-on-metal clangs told of combat, the barbarians and the Imperials busy with each other. Dim shapes materialized off to their left. “Hey!” someone called from what appeared to be a small group of legionaries. “You guys get nicked?”

Alain had held his breath at the first hail, but he suddenly understood Mari’s idea. In the limited visibility, the soldiers had guessed he and Mari were other soldiers returning from the small battle against the barbarians. But their retreat might have raised suspicions if it had not also appeared that one of them had been injured.

Mari called out a reply, her voice taking on a slightly different accent. “Yeah.”

“How many of them did you get so far?”

Mari did not hesitate before replying. “Ten that I know of.”

“Ha! Hope there’s some left for us! That’ll teach the dead to try to leave that pile of broken garbage. The healer’s in the tower you’re heading for.”

“Thanks.” The shapes of the Imperial soldiers dimmed and then vanished in the snow as the legionaries dashed toward the sound of fighting.

Mari changed their path to angle away from the tower, heading straight out from the city.

“Why did you sound different?” Alain asked as they struggled through the snow.

“My accent?” Mari said. “That legionnaire had a Centin accent. I learned about different Imperial accents from listening to commons when I was at the Mechanics Guild Academy in Palandur. I answered him back trying to sound like I was from Centin, too, because the Empire builds its legions with men and women from the same areas.”

They drew even with the towers, then began to leave them behind. Alain started to relax slightly, then felt his Mage senses tingle with sudden warning. He reached over, grabbed Mari and pulled her down flat into the snow once more. She lay next to him, not moving, waiting to find out why he had acted. Moments passed, the snow falling down to coat them once more with white. Alain could feel the cold biting into him, worse this time, but stayed motionless, his hand still on Mari to urge her to do the same.

Several more shapes came walking out of the storm, their outlines hard to make out as the snow swirled past. Alain could see the helmet plume of a high-ranking Imperial officer. Then he made out the unmistakable shape of Mage robes on one of the other figures. The group trudged past, not speaking among themselves, but just as they were starting to fade into the storm again the Mage stopped.

The Mage turned, peering in the direction of Alain and Mari. Alain did not dare make any preparations for a spell, since that would betray them instantly, but he heard Mari’s hand slide under her jacket to grasp her weapon.

The Imperial officer said something which Alain could not make out, the tones outwardly respectful but betraying the revulsion which commons felt toward Mages. The other Mage did not respond for a long moment. Then the Mage started walking again, not toward Alain but away, vanishing into the storm-driven gloom along with the soldiers.

Alain began breathing once more. He waited a few moments longer, then urged Mari up again.

Mari was shivering badly as she dusted packed snow off of her front. “I r-really h-hate th-this,” she whispered through chattering teeth. “D-did that M-mage s-sense you?”

“I do not know. We must put distance between ourselves and this place in case that Mage returns.” Alain ached to use his powers to warm the air around her, but doing so would instantly tell the other Mage where he was, so instead he took Mari’s arm again and together they walked steadily away from the line of watch towers. The flaming lights of the towers dimmed and then vanished in the storm, and no more noise of battle could be heard as they struggled through the deepening snow.

They crested a small rise and began going down the other side, then both stumbled into a small ditch lying across their path. Alain bent to look. “It is the side of a road.”

“A road.” Mari shook her head. “We can’t risk running into anyone on the road, not this close to Marandur.”

“No. They would surely arrest us on suspicion even if they did not kill us on sight.” Veering sharply to the left, they headed away from the road, staggering occasionally as they hit a deeper drift of snow. “We have been going hard since early this morning,” Alain managed to say, wondering whether he was supporting Mari or if she was supporting him as they trudged onward. “We need to rest.”

“Not until we find cover,” Mari got out between rapid, shallow breaths.

They went onward, Alain feeling exhausted and knowing that Mari was at least as tired. He looked back occasionally, still seeing no sign of pursuit, and noting with relief that their tracks were being filled in by the still-falling snow.

More shapes reared up out of the gloom, causing Mari and Alain to stagger with alarm. “Trees,” Mari said in a worn-out voice.

“If there is even a small group of trees here we can hide among them, allowing the snow to cover our tracks this far.”

“But we’re not that far from the city,” Mari insisted, her voice slurring with fatigue.

“Mari, if we keep walking, we will keep leaving traces of our movement. And we must rest.”

“All right,” she mumbled. They moved in among the trees, not able to make out the full extent of the woods in the limited visibility. It was a fair-sized grove, though. Mari came to a stop, swaying on her feet, where two trees growing close to each other had formed a natural break against the weather. Pulling their blankets out of their packs, they wrapped themselves up together, sharing the blankets and their warmth. Mari buried her head next to Alain, her breathing now deep and slightly ragged. “We made it. I think.”

“I think so, too.” Alain rested his own head near hers, enjoying the warmth of her breath. “But I am afraid tomorrow has come. Your birthday must be over now.”

“You forgot a cake for me, didn’t you? And you invited legionaries and barbarians to the party.”

“Regretfully, yes.” He waited a moment, then heard how even her breathing had become and realized Mari had fallen asleep. Alain stayed awake a little while longer, trying to listen for any sign of danger, but soon passed out from fatigue as well.

He awoke with the sun high in the sky to the distinctive sound of axes thunking into wood. Raising his head cautiously and staring around, Alain could tell the wood cutting wasn’t going on anywhere close by, even though the sound carried clearly in the clean, cold air. The snow had stopped, but the sky was still gray with leaden clouds. Mari was blinking awake beside him. “What is it?” she asked.

“I will check.” Disturbing the blankets as little as possible, Alain crept cautiously toward the sounds. Using the cover of the trees to screen himself as much as possible, he got fairly close before he managed to spot the woodcutting crew working away. But almost as soon as he saw them, a loud voice ordered the cutters to stop.

Gliding slightly closer, Alain could see an Imperial officer berating the man in charge of the woodcutters. The man was arguing back, his hands and arms moving in the exaggerated motions of vehement debate. Alain listened for a little while, then eased back into the woods and returned to Mari. “Woodcutters made the noise, but they were stopped by an Imperial officer who claims they are cutting too close to Marandur. The leader of the woodcutters is arguing that this patch of woods is outside of the Emperor’s ban and has been cut for ages. I saw a bribe pass to the officer, so the matter is probably resolved.”

Mari nodded wearily, running one hand through her hair in a futile attempt to comb it into decent order. “Not our problem, then?”

“Yes and no. The officer asked if the woodcutters had seen anyone heading away from the city. He reminded them of the reward for turning in anyone who tries to leave Marandur.”

She grimaced. “Then they know or suspect that we made it out.”

“The snow may not have completely obscured some of our tracks before they were found, especially near the city walls where the legionaries were searching intensely,” Alain replied. “Perhaps they think it was some of the barbarians. But it is not impossible that the Mage we saw was able to sense a trace of my presence. My Guild is still seeking my death, so that Mage may have been warned to watch for me even though the Mage Guild did not realize that we were in Marandur.”

“So at a minimum, the Imperials are looking for a couple of refugees from Marandur. And your Guild might be hot on our heels, too.” Mari blew out a long breath. “You really know how to make a girl feel great first thing in the morning, Alain. Remind me not to ask you how I look right now. Stop. I’m not asking you to tell me that.” She paused, thinking. “We need to get moving again. Get far enough from Marandur that we can blend in with the people in the countryside. I know Palandur from my time at the Mechanics Guild training academy there. But I didn’t spend much time worrying about anything outside the city gates, especially anything this far away.”

“I know nothing of the area at all.”

Mari winced as she moved, pulling her pack around to dig out the map she had brought with her all the way from the Bakre Confederation. She studied it for a little while, then shook her head. “I can’t tell how far we’ve gotten or where we need to go next. But we need to get moving.”

“Yes. Which way?”

She frowned again, then looked up at the sun. “South. It’s not directly away from Marandur, but it should take us to some secondary roads running to Palandur. There’ll be plenty of traffic on those roads, even in the winter, and we’ll just be two more travelers.”

Alain thought about the pristine stretches of snow outside the small patch of woods they occupied. “How do we avoid leaving a clear trail for the Imperials to follow?”

Mari didn’t say anything for a while. “I have no idea,” she finally said. “There are no other tracks out there? Nothing we could use to cover our own?”

“There are the tracks made by the lumber wagon and its horses.”

She made a helpless gesture. “We’ll have to use those. Which means we have to wait here at least until the wagon leaves.” Mari’s expression brightened. “That might actually work out. I’ve seen how the Imperials handle trying to catch someone. They set up checkpoints and send out patrols, gradually expanding the search.”

“This helps us how?” Alain asked.

Mari drew a circle in the snow before her, then another larger one around it, then an even bigger one around that. “It helps us because the Imperials assume their prey is running at the best pace it can manage. Therefore as they expand their perimeter their checkpoints have to cover wider areas. While we wait here, the checkpoints and patrols will think we’re doing the sensible thing and running like crazy, so they’ll keep searching areas we haven’t gone to. By the time we start out tonight, the Imperials will have searched this whole area and already declared it clear.”

Alain considered the diagrams, nodded, then asked a question. “But what if they find us while they are searching this area?”

“That is the one weak point in the plan. We’ll have to keep an eye out for search parties and react as best we can.” Mari glanced around. “We should have a much better chance of evading searchers in these woods than out in the open, so it’s the option we’ve got. Can you still sense that Mage?”

“Yes, but he is not close.”

“Let’s hope he stays distant.” Mari settled back against the twin trees again, wincing. “I am so cold, and so tired, and so hungry, and so thirsty. Can Mages make food or wine?”

“How could Mages do that?” Alain asked, startled by the question.

“They make dragons.”

“That is different.”

Mari gave him one of her narrow-eyed looks, then pulled the blanket up over her head. “Don’t bother me until nightfall unless you see Imperials or find food.”

“I have food in my pack. The university sent some extra with us. Your pack was already loaded with your tools, so they—” Alain stopped speaking as Mari yanked the blanket down and glared at him. “Had I not mentioned that before?”

“No,” she replied in her dangerous voice. “You had not mentioned that. So you have more food?”

“Yes.”

“What about drink?”

“Just water.”

“When were you planning on telling me about that? Before or after I collapsed from hunger and thirst?”

Alain paused to think, deciding not to answer that last question directly. “I was trained not to think about physical discomforts like food and drink, so I do not always feel such things as you do.”

Her anger subsided as quickly as it had arisen. “Sorry. I know your acolyte training was very rough.”

“Perhaps we should eat now.”

“Perhaps we should,” Mari muttered.

He got out the food, which while sparse still represented a generous gift from the university, whose inhabitants were always on lean diets. Mari let him back under the blankets, so that even though it was still icy cold outside they were able to share their warmth. “I’m sorry I’ve been in a bad mood,” she finally mumbled again in apology. “We’re both under a lot of pressure, and we’re both suffering from the cold and all the walking in the snow we’ve had to do. I don’t have any right to act like I’m the only one suffering. How are you doing?”

“It could be much worse,” Alain said.

“Yeah. And it probably will be,” Mari said. “Can I ask what is probably a silly question about Mage stuff?”

“Of course,” Alain said. “I know many of my questions about Mechanic things sound odd to you.”

“Fair enough,” Mari said. “Why can’t Mages make food if they can create something like a Dragon? Why can’t you imagine into existence a steak or a roast chicken?”

“It would not be worth the effort expended,” Alain said. “The amount of strength and power required to create such a thing would exceed whatever benefit the food would give.”

“Wow,” Mari said. “That actually makes sense to me.”

“But it does not matter,” Alain continued, “because there would be no benefit to it. What Mages create is an imitation. Dragons, trolls, and other spell creatures do not live, they imitate living creatures. They bleed, but it is not blood. They have muscles and other flesh, but it is not actual meat.”

“What does it taste like?” Mari asked, staring at him, her expression both fascinated and revolted.

“I have not tasted it,” Alain said. “An elder once told my group of acolytes that it is like eating dirt or dust.”

She made a gagging expression as if she had actually tasted some. “All of a sudden I am very grateful for any other form of food. Go ahead and try to sleep some more. I’m a little restless, so I’ll stay awake and keep an eye on things.”

It was about noon, and the thunking of the crew cutting wood had not yet let up, when Alain awoke to Mari cautioning him to silence. It was not hard to understand why, since he could faintly hear the tramp of many feet in the snow. Mari crept out to check, then came hastening back. “About a cohort of legionaries, spread out in a search line, walking across country and heading this way.”