The Dragons of Dorcastle

Chapter Eleven

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.

An apprentice entered, carrying her cleaned clothes, followed by a male Senior Mechanic who seemed upset. Mari was used to that by now, but instead of focusing on her the Senior Mechanic went to the woman who had been herding Mari along and began speaking in a low voice that sounded unhappy. She recognized him as the Senior Mechanic who had taken her report when she got back from the fire, and who had roused the healer to ensure Mari’s head injury was treated. Now that Senior Mechanic gestured toward Mari more than once, and Mari caught fragments of his sentences as he spoke to the female Senior Mechanic. “No way to treat…rules do not permit…safety of a Mechanic…I protest…”

But the female Senior Mechanic glowered back at him, her own words barely audible to Mari. “The good of the Guild…orders of the Guild Hall Supervisor…”

While the two Senior Mechanics were arguing, the apprentice set down Mari’s bundle of clothing, giving a nervous glance at the Senior Mechanics. “Lady,” he whispered.

Mari finally took a good look at the apprentice. He was the one she had met at the entry to the Guild Hall…yesterday? No, the day before.

“Lady,” the apprentice murmured while pretending to fuss with the bundle of clothes. “You leave on the train this afternoon?” Mari nodded minutely. “Mechanic Pradar asked me to tell you that the Guild Hall Supervisor has canceled a shipment of Guild materials due to go on that train.”

Mari licked her lips nervously, flicking a worried glance at the quarrelling Senior Mechanics. “What does that mean?” she murmured.

“I don’t know. Mechanic Pradar said it would be too dangerous to speak to you himself, but he wanted me to thank you on his behalf again. Take care, Lady.”

As the apprentice backed away, the male Senior Mechanic frowned down at his female counterpart, his last sentence clear to Mari. “This is the breaking point. I will file a formal protest.”

“If you wish to live with the consequences of that,” the female Senior Mechanic replied coldly.

“I’m more concerned about being able to live with myself,” he retorted, then spun on his heel, stopping as he faced Mari. The Senior Mechanic hesitated, then spoke even louder. “Thank you for your service to the Guild, Master Mechanic.”

A ripple of applause broke out from some of the Mechanics as the Senior Mechanic walked quickly from the dining hall, but died out abruptly as the female Senior Mechanic pivoted to see who was clapping. Mari knew the applause wasn't about her, since none of the other Mechanics in this room were likely to know exactly what she had done here for the Guild, but was rather a small mark of support for a Senior Mechanic who had dared to stand up for regular Mechanics.

Mari looked down at the table, thinking about the apprentice who had taken the risk of passing on an admittedly ambiguous warning to her, about the Senior Mechanic who might well just have crippled his own career out of a dedication to doing his job right when it came to how Mechanics were treated, and about the Mechanics who were scared but knew she was on their side. About Mechanic Rindal, Pradar’s uncle, who had disappeared because he was unhappy with Guild policies. Yes, there’s a lot I have to learn, but how can those things be right? How can those things be in the interests of the Guild? Why not tell me the real reasons? Why not let those who care about the Guild do what they can to help it?

No longer able to stomach food, Mari wrapped up the remains of her meal and added it to her pack.

The female Senior Mechanic led Mari through the Guild Hall again, but not to the front entrance, instead stopping at a side door. “For your security,” the Senior Mechanic advised with obvious insincerity as she waved Mari out.

The door closed behind her, followed by an audible thunk as the heavy bars inside which normally kept it closed were relocked by the Senior Mechanic. Mari stood outside of the Guild Hall, breathing slowly and trying to think.

Get a grip on yourself, Mari. You’ve been under a tremendous amount of stress ever since the attack on the caravan. You’ve taken a nasty blow to the head. Now you’re letting all of that get to you, letting your imagination conjure up ridiculous ideas. Senior Mechanic Stimon is obviously a rotten Guild Hall Supervisor, but it’s a long step from that to the sorts of things you’re afraid of. Commons able to do the work of Mechanics? A Guild Hall supervisor who’s actually a threat to the lives of other Mechanics? It’s all impossible. Tell yourself it’s all impossible. Because it has to be.

Just like making a hole in solid metal or walking through a solid wall.

What’s going on?

Stars above, I’m scared of my own Guild and not sure where to turn. The Guild’s been my entire life since I was taken to the schools as a little girl. The Guild is all I’ve got.

I’m going to get to that train station, I’m going to get to Dorcastle and rest and talk to some other Mechanics and try to forget all of this craziness. I’m sure once I’ve rested and gotten away from Ringhmon all of these fears will seem as ridiculous as they surely are. And if they don’t… I’m going to start looking for more answers.

Mari hefted her pack, thinking of the distance to the train station, and groaned inside. The painkillers the Guild Hall healer had given her had reduced the ache in her head to a mild throb, but after all the exertions of last night she had no desire to lug her pack across half the city. She started across the wide plaza that surrounded the Mechanics Guild Hall.

“Are you well this morning?”

The voice was familiar and totally emotionless, but Mari looked in vain for the robes of a Mage. Then she focused on a young man standing nearby, wearing nondescript clothing like that of common folk. “Mage Alain? Where’s— ?”

“My robes?” He made a dismissive gesture. “I decided it would be wise to be invisible when moving about the city today, but am still too weak from my efforts to be certain of maintaining that spell long enough. Then I realized that there was another way to be invisible, for who looks at commons?”

Mari felt a smile forming, her fears receding into the background to be replaced by relief at seeing him. “Are you all right? Last night you didn’t think you had been hurt by the fall, but I was worried.”

“I was exhausted from my spells and stunned when I hit the ground,” Alain said. “But other than some bruises I took no harm. I know you had much to do with that.”

“Well, yeah,” Mari admitted, feeling self-conscious. “I also had much to do with you getting into that mess in the first place. Did you get in trouble with your elders?”

“Yes,” Mage Alain said without feeling. “I got in trouble. I was asked to explain my actions. I provided various reasons consistent with Mage wisdom, but the elders did not accept them.”

“I guess you couldn’t say that you were my friend,” Mari said.

“No. I eventually admitted that I had followed you to spy upon you.”

“You…what?”

Was there humor showing in the Mage’s eyes? “That is what I told them. There is no truth, so one story was as good as another. The elders were willing to accept that I was motivated by a desire to learn more about a possible threat to the Mage Guild.”

Mari felt herself smiling widely. Being able to lie with a clean conscience probably had its advantages. I really like the guy hidden inside him. That good person I keep getting glimpses of. I think I’d like him even if he hadn’t saved me at least twice. “What did you find out while you were spying on me?”

“Not to start fires inside buildings unless I am already near a window.” He waited while Mari winced. “Otherwise I could tell them little, since I explained I often could not understand your words or actions.”

“Yeah,” Mari said. “A lot of people have that problem with me, and to be perfectly honest I’m having a little trouble figuring them out myself right now. Look, I’ve got some issues I need to work out with my Guild. I don’t know exactly what’s going on. Anyway, there’s no sense in you getting in more trouble with your Guild, too. Hanging with me isn’t doing you any good, and might get you in trouble.”

“But you are a friend.” His voice remained impassive, his face unrevealing. “You also saved my life, carrying me to the window. How did you create the strength to do that? It was an impressive manipulation of the illusion.”

Mari shrugged and looked down, feeling the heat of embarrassment in her face. “I have no idea how I did that. I guess I was highly motivated. I wasn’t going to leave you behind, not after you got me out of that cell.”

“You never leave anyone behind,” Alain recited as if it were a lesson.

“No. I don’t.”

The Mage’s mouth worked, then he spoke hesitantly. “Thank…you.”

They had been walking, but now Mari stumbled to a halt, staring at him. What had it taken for a Mage to say those words? She had heard him say them before, but only repeating her own words back to her. He hadn’t actually said thank you to anyone, to her. But now he had. Say something to him, you fool. Anything. “You’re thanking me for throwing you out a window?”

“Yes, if you wish to say it that way, using your sarcasm.” Mage Alain twisted his face slightly. “I am uncertain about the right things to say. As an acolyte, the use of those words would bring punishment.”

You poor— “Well, uh, that’s…I mean…I’m really glad…you’re…all right.”

“A friend wants to help,” Mage Alain said. “Because it is the right thing,” he added, quoting her.

“Uh…yeah…that’s…right.” He had paid that much attention to what she said? And he really liked her? Or whatever Mages used in place of “like,” anyway. He had saved her life, he had gone into a dungeon to get her out, he had listened to her. He had that thread thing between them that wasn’t there but was.

He hadn’t left her when that would have been the easiest, most acceptable thing to do. Instead, he had taken the hardest road he could, because he wanted to help her.

Mari stared at Alain, wondering why she was suddenly having so much trouble talking, why she couldn’t seem to string two words together without fumbling, why she felt so awkward, why she couldn’t take her eyes off of Alain’s expressionless face and his firm jaw and his soulful eyes—

Soulful eyes?

Oh, no, Mari. No no no no no no no. You are not going there. That is so crazy it’s off the scale. He’s a Mage. You’re a Mechanic. Yes, he’s damaged, and yes, it would be oh-so-romantic to try to fix him, but that is not the sort of repair job any rational woman would undertake, and it is certainly not the sort of job you should even be considering. He doesn’t even know what love is. He doesn’t know what like is. He has only the vaguest idea what a friend is.

You told him it wasn’t love. You told him not to think about love. That was smart. You’re smart, Mari. You won’t get involved with some badly damaged guy who thinks nothing is real just because he’s more real than any other guy you’ve ever met. You will…you will…

I felt safe when he showed up here.

Why is he looking at me? He’s waiting for something. Did he ask me a question? Oh, right. “Where am I going? Uh…I’m…uh…I…Dorcastle. I…I’m going to…Dorcastle.” Stars above, help me, I sound like I’m six years old.

But Alain didn’t show any sign that he had noticed her discomfort, even though he must have. “I also must go to Dorcastle. My elders insist that I leave this city.”

“Oh…um…good. Are you…taking…the train?”

“Train?” Alain asked.

“Yes.” She pointed in the direction of the yard. “Train.”

“This is like a caravan?”

“No…yes. I mean, it takes people, but…faster. Much faster.” She took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. “Mages never use trains, but if you are wearing that—those clothes—you could ride it.”

Alain considered that. “How would I do this?”

“It’s easy.” So easy a Mage could do it. I have to stop using that expression. “You…you go…there. That way. There’s a…a sign. Train Station. You can read? Sorry. Of course you can read. And there’s another sign. Passengers. I can…get you a ticket. You go to…to that window…and you say, ‘will call ticket for Alain of Ihris.’ Don’t…please don’t…say the Mage part. You’re not wearing those robes so…no one will know you’re a Mage.” Unless they look at your face. “And…and they’ll give you a ticket. That’s a piece of paper with writing on it. And…you follow the other passengers…and the train takes you to…to Dorcastle.” She wanted to bury her face in her hands out of sheer embarrassment. Please, please, let this end.

“Is there something wrong?” Alain asked. “You are distressed.”

“No. Nothing. Nothing at all. Do not, do not, tell anyone that you’re a Mage. Some of my fellow Mechanics might…do the wrong thing. But I…I have to go. Myself.” What had happened to her? An awful suspicion occurred to Mari as she looked at the Mage. She had never believed the stories about Mage spells, but look what he had done last night. Maybe some of the other stories were true, about the ability of Mages to make people act in strange ways. “Alain…tell me the truth.”

“There is no truth.”

“Try anyway! Would you…would you do anything to me…without me knowing?”

The Mage looked at her silently for a while.

Stars above. There’s hurt in his eyes. I can see it way back there, almost completely hidden, but I hurt him with that question. I hurt the feelings of a Mage. They don’t even have feelings, but I hurt them. Way to achieve the impossible, Mari.

Finally, Alain shook his head. “I would not do anything like that.”

Could she believe him?

But as if sensing the question, Alain added more. “There is no truth, but I will not mislead you. A friend would not mislead.”

“Thank you.” Mari tried to gather up the shattered shards of her dignity. “I’m sorry. I really have to go. Um…thank you. Thank you for everything. Goodbye.” Forever. Absolutely, positively forever, before I make the biggest mistake of my life. She hoisted her pack and almost ran down the road, away from the Mage Alain.

Leaving the Mage Guild Hall was the work of a moment, informing the acolyte at the door that he would not be returning, but would be heading for Dorcastle as instructed by the elders. Alain suspected those elders, who had regarded him with ill-concealed suspicion at a second Inquiry this morning, would be grateful enough for his departure not to worry about how he was leaving. No one had ever told him specifically that Mechanic “trains” were off limits to Mages, and asking permission seemed a needless complication, so he did not bother about that. Alain had brought no baggage from the ruin of the caravan, and Mages had few possessions in any event. He had acquired a small bag to hold his robes hidden, and now walked toward the Mechanic place which Mari had told him to look for. The common clothes he wore still felt very odd, but he would grow used to them.

Following some commons, Alain carried his bag inside the Mechanic station, looking around and absorbing the noises, smells and vapors that swirled through the station. Some of those noises and smells always seemed to go with Mechanics and their doings. Sharp bangs and sudden, loud crashing sounds. The tang of things heated too hot, overlaid by something like rancid cooking oil left too long on a fire. Metal grinding against metal. What purpose did such things serve?

Not long ago he would not have come this far, avoiding anything with the taint of Mechanics about it. But he could still sense the thread. Mechanic Mari was here, and she would not have sent him into danger.

The window was not hard to find, and when Alain gave his name a boy who must be a Mechanic acolyte shoved a piece of paper forward without even looking at Alain. Mechanics must also teach their acolytes to ignore others. Alain took the paper and followed commons again. They walked to a series of identical, long, narrow buildings next to a platform. The sides of each of the buildings were lined with windows. At the very end of the line stood a building which appeared grander than the others, and had some of the Mechanic acolytes standing as if guarding it. Alain guessed that one would be for the Mechanics themselves. In front of the windowed buildings were a number of similarly shaped buildings with no windows, but rather large doors through which boxes and other objects were being brought inside.

It all seemed incomprehensible, but the commons ahead of Alain walked into the nearest building and he followed, finding the single room inside filled with benches along each side and an aisle down the middle. Seating himself as the commons did, Alain waited, wondering what to do.

Alain could wait. He gazed out of the window impassively as the room gradually filled with commons, taking many of the seats, some of them giving him curious looks. Someone might have said something to him, but he ignored them, and they went away.

He heard a rumbling sound, felt vibrations, then a sudden shock rocked the building he was in. None of the commons appeared alarmed, and Alain of course hid his own reaction, but he had more trouble remaining impassive when the building slid backwards a bit, then forwards, with its own rumbling vibration.

Very odd. Then he saw one of the buildings being rolled by on a nearby set of metal lines and realized the buildings had wheels on them. Clever. They were wagons, not buildings, linked together into a single long caravan. But what kind of creature could pull so many?

Up ahead, somewhere past the wagons which carried boxes, Alain heard a deafening, wild screech, as if a huge creature had been stricken. Once again, he barely kept from showing any reaction. Mechanics were shouting orders, then with a lurch the wagons surged into motion.

Mechanic Mari had said she would be on this train as well. Alain wondered whether she would be in the last car with the Mechanics. But the thread led forward, not back. Mari was up front, perhaps near the beast that pulled this strange Mechanic caravan.

The train kept going faster and faster, the outlying buildings of Ringhmon whipping by quicker than a galloping horse could manage. Alain stared out the window, remembering how Mechanic Mari had looked when he had walked into her cell through the hole he had imagined in the wall. He suspected she had felt then as he did now, astonished at something which should not have been possible, according to what he had been taught. What he had been taught instead was to pay no attention to the works of Mechanics, not even to look upon them. Tricks deserved no attention, required no attention.

This was not a trick. He had been trained to see through illusions, and this was a very good one. How did the Mechanics do this?

In the sky above, Alain noticed a trail of smoke which appeared to come from the front of the train. Whatever was pulling all of these wagons, whatever had screamed, must also be producing the smoke. A dragon? A troll? No, neither created smoke, nor could a troll move fast.

But the Mechanics had made something, using their own arts, just as Mages could create creatures. What would Mage Guild elders say if Alain asked about this? They would tell me I was fooled, being young. They would accuse me of having strayed from wisdom, of having been overcome by the illusions of the Mechanics.

They would ask me why I chose to ride what Mari called a train.

I will stay silent on this while I try to learn why my Guild is so much in error when it comes to Mechanics.

The wheels of the wagons clicked in a rhythmic way as the train rolled along, the wagons swaying back and forth slightly. The gentle motion brought back memories of long ago, before he had been taken by the Guild. Being gently rocked, a soft voice singing.

Alain focused tightly on his training, unwilling to give in to that memory. It lay behind a locked door in his mind, and somehow he knew that if he opened that door it would bring more buried emotion than his training could deal with.

The seat was far from comfortable, with cushions as thin as those in the dungeon of Ringhmon, but Mages were taught to disregard physical discomfort. He fell asleep watching the land roll past, the accumulated fatigue of the last several days catching up with him, only to awaken when the train slowed to a halt. Outside, low vegetation and an occasional tree could be seen, but no sign of the ocean. This was not Dorcastle.

“They’re feeding the Mechanic engine,” he heard one of the commons say to another. “Water and that liquid like lamp oil they make that burns really well.”

The Mechanic creature ate and drank. Interesting. He could feel no drain on power in the area as the Mechanic train moved, so the Mechanic creature did not draw on that as a Mage spell would. The creature must rely on the aid of power provided in another form.

Alain fell asleep again after the train began moving once more. He woke as the Mechanic train finished skirting the rugged mountains which blocked access to Ringhmon from the western side and turned west toward Dorcastle. The air took on the bracing scent of salt water, and before long Alain could spot the lowering sun glittering on the surface of the Sea of Bakre. The wide coastal marshes he could see soon gave way to rocks on which waves beat unceasingly.

He had never seen that sea until recently, when he had ridden a ship south to find employment far from Ihris. Alain watched it, thinking of his time with the Mechanic. Thinking of Mari. So many changes, so many challenges to the wisdom he had been taught. Yet his foresight had not warned him of her. If she were a danger, if she were leading him astray from wisdom, such a warning would surely have come or would come.

He thought again about the vision involving Mari. A second sun, and a terrible storm that threatened it, and perhaps more. What could that mean?

Had the vision regarding Mari come to him for the same reason the thread had appeared? Did being a friend have something to do with it? Or was it simply because of Mari herself? Alain recalled Mari’s own warnings that other Mechanics were likely a danger to him, and wondered what would have happened if there had been another Mechanic traveling with the destroyed caravan. Would any other Mechanic have done what Mari did, forcing their alliance and thereby saving them both?

Friend. He remembered more now. Asha would have been a friend. He felt sure of that from the brief time before the elders had taught acolytes to avoid even mentioning such things. What would that have been like? Not like being a friend with Mechanic Mari. But it had not happened, it could not happen. If Asha was not already a Mage, she surely would be one soon. The biggest thing holding her back was the natural beauty that no amount of neglect could diminish and which created deep suspicion among elders. But she felt nothing, just as he felt nothing.

Those memories roused something inside him that Alain did not understand but wanted to avoid. He tried to concentrate on Mari again. That was not too hard.

She had acted oddly when last they met. He had wondered if she would greet him here. But she had never said “we” would travel on this Mechanic caravan. She had spoken of them being separate once again. Had Mechanic Mari developed second thoughts about being a friend? They had been thrown together twice, but each time she had needed him as he had needed her. Now, neither needed the other.

Surely friend meant more than that.

The way she had looked at him before parting in Ringhmon…what did that mean? He could not sort out the emotions he had seen in her. But her eyes had been wide as she looked at him and…and…

Those thoughts were disturbing, too.

As long as light lasted, he watched as the Mechanic caravan climbed ever higher along the steep cliffs which marked the southern shore of the Sea of Bakre. Inland from the cliffs were even higher mountains, forming barriers so rugged to travel that they were almost impassable. There were no lights within the caravan, at least not this part of it, but the moonlight shone brightly. Alain could easily see the moon and the smaller twins that forever chased it across the night sky. At last, even the spectacular view could not overcome the tempo of the clicking wheels, and Alain fell asleep again, thinking that this Mechanic way of travel was indeed superior to anything commons offered. The Mage Guild had its own means, of course, faster than this Mechanic device.

Had Mari ever flown on a Roc? It seemed unlikely.

Alain dreamed of flying above the clouds, looking down on toylike cities, Mari by his side. He felt…what was this? Like when he had qualified to be a Mage, passing all tests. Better than that, though. Much better.

But the clouds darkened, forming into the storm of his vision, towering thunderheads filled with rage rising higher to threaten Alain and Mari.

The Roc screamed and they fell…

Alain woke to hear the screaming still in his ears as a huge, invisible hand grasped Alain and hurled him against the seat in front of him. It held him there while the shrieking of tortured metal continued and the view of a rock wall outside the windows on one side showed the wagon was slowly rapidly. The sense of great danger, of something being very wrong, was so strong that Alain felt a momentary sting of panic despite his training.