The Hidden Masters of Marandur

Chapter Six

Morning dawned chill, the heights around them blocking the sun’s rays. Alain could hear the calls of Alexdrian sentries reporting all well, a reassurance that the Imperial forces had relied on the dragon to finish the job of destroying the raiders and not pushing up the pass themselves. Alain took another look at the massive carcass, still frightening even in its ruin. He could not imagine commons, or even Mages, choosing to follow on the heels of such a monster.

The fire had sunk into a few glowing embers. Alain had been trained not to care about personal hardship or discomfort and so ignored the cold in the air, but found himself concerned about Mari. He pulled out a few remaining branches from their supply of wood and got a small fire going again. Mari stirred, then opened her eyes and looked across the fire at him. “Yesterday wasn’t a dream, then.” She sighed. “That was the first night in a long time when I didn’t have a nightmare.”

Mari sat up, yawning and blinking. “I must look awful. I hurt all over and my mouth feels like my horse spent the night in there. Let me clean up and neaten up a little, then we’ll eat something and go see your general.”

The soldiers, busy getting ready to break camp, all maintained their distance, but Alain noticed that they often took quick looks at Mari as they talked among themselves. Mari acted as if she were unaware of them, though Alain could tell she was bothered by the attention. Two more cups of stew made up their breakfasts, brought by a pair of soldiers, one of whom eyed Mari with an awed expression while the other tentatively smiled at her before both left. After using water from a canteen she had brought to wash her face and rinse out her mouth, Mari spent a while straightened her hair and clothing. “Ready?” she finally asked him.

Alain ran one hand through his hair to comb it, twitched his robes slightly to settle them properly, then nodded.

She shook her head. “Guys have it so easy.” Mari led Alain toward the camp, but halted several lance-lengths short of it. “Do you mind waiting here with me?” she asked. “I’m still a bit nervous around commons.”

Alain nodded in response, not remarking on the falseness he had heard in Mari’s voice. She was nervous, but not for the reason she had given him. “Will you ask these soldiers to join with you?”

“Will I—?” Mari looked at him the way she had soon after they had first met, when his simple statements of how Mages saw the world had baffled her. “Join with me? What does that mean?”

“You will need the assistance of commons—”

Mari laughed. “I’m not going to use an army to get through the Empire. I’m pretty sure I explained that we were going to sneak our way to Severun. It’s too bad you can’t make both of us invisible with that spell of yours.” She gestured toward the carcass of the dragon. “Speaking of things disappearing, Alain, why don’t those things vanish when they get killed? You told me that all Mage spells were temporary, only lasting as long as you could maintain them.”

“That is so,” Alain said, “but you must remember that dragons, trolls and similar spell creatures are not alive and so cannot die. They are a spell designed to maintain itself, mimicking a living creature. Because they imitate a living creature, they can be stopped by the same amount of damage which would kill a comparable living creature.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow his way. “That’s consistent enough, but why don’t they disappear once they’ve been pretend-killed?”

“Because they are imbued with enough power to sustain themselves,” Alain explained. “It may be enough for a few days of activity, which for these creatures means intense action. That power does not vanish if they are stopped before the spell expires. It remains within them, slowly dissipating. The same amount of power which could keep a dragon moving and fighting for a few days would take many days to dissolve.”

Mari stared at the ruin of the dragon. “So it decays. Sort of like a living thing, but faster. What does it take, a month?”

Alain made an uncertain gesture. “It depends. How much power was placed within the creature? How much did it use before being stopped? I cannot imagine the remains lasting more than a month at the longest, though. After that, everything is gone. Bones, muscle, it all fades into the nothing from which it came.”

“From nothing to nothing?” Mari shook her head. “That really bothers me, Alain.”

“It has always bothered me as well, though I could not betray such feelings in the past.”

The soldiers must have passed the word of their presence there through the camp, because only a short time later General Flyn walked up, looking at Mari with uncertainty clear in his expression. “May I be blunt, Lady?” he asked her.

Mari shrugged. “I’m finding that plain speaking is too rare in my life, General. Feel free.”

“Are you truly a Mechanic? Or did you acquire that jacket under circumstances I would be better off not knowing?”

“I acquired my jacket after an apprenticeship at the Mechanics Guild Hall in Caer Lyn,” Mari replied. “I acquired my Master Mechanic status at the Mechanics Guild Academy in Palandur. And I’ll answer the question you didn’t ask, General. I’m eighteen years old, the youngest Master Mechanic in the history of the Guild.”

“A young Master Mechanic.” Flyn regarded her thoughtfully. “We have heard of a Lady Master Mechanic who burned down the city hall which was the pride of Ringhmon. This Mage and I discussed that incident a few days ago.”

Mari shrugged once more. “I’m not sure why you would think I had anything to do with that, but I am sure that Ringhmon had it coming.”

“Anyone who has dealt with Ringhmon would agree, I am sure, Lady,” the general said. “You weren’t in Dorcastle soon afterwards, were you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“A matter concerning dragons that weren’t dragons. The Great Guilds have put out their versions of those events, but many rumors are making the rounds as well, speaking of a young woman whose description matches your own appearance. I did not place much credence in those rumors, but yesterday the Mage informed me that you had killed another dragon before this one. Was it you, Lady, who slew the dragon seen in the remnants of a warehouse before the Mechanics Guild declared it off limits to common folk?”

Mari looked around as if seeking a way to escape, then faced the general squarely. “I’m tired of lying to people. Yes. This Mage and I were responsible for the death of that dragon and the destruction of the warehouse.”

“My role was small,” Alain interjected.

“No, it wasn’t,” Mari said, her tone sharpening. “General, I’m trying to keep a low profile. I know that commons are talking about that incident. But I’d rather not have my name linked to it in ways that will get back to my Guild.”

“We don’t share such stories with your Guild, Lady. It seems you have done a number of remarkable things.”

“Master Mechanic Mari will do many more remarkable things,” Alain said, feeling a strange sense of pride in the way Flyn looked at Mari.

Mari covered her face with one hand. “Thank you, Sir Mage,” she muttered from behind the hand. “That’s very helpful.”

“I have already promised not to tell any that you were here,” Flyn said. “I will abide by that, but I cannot swear the rest of my command will do so for long. They will not tell any Mechanics or Mages, but sooner or later no matter what oaths they swear, they will have too much ale and tell friends who will tell friends, and thus word may nonetheless filter back to the Great Guilds eventually.”

Mari looked glumly at the mountains beyond the general. “I expect a good head start, General. I need a good head start. You owe me that.”

The general indicated the camp of the soldiers. “Lady, we owe you a great deal more than that. At least six men and women who would have died last night still live because of the medical supplies you brought and gave us freely. All of us here would probably be dead but for an act of yours, slaying that dragon, for which you have asked a ridiculously small payment. I assure you that I will do all I can to confuse your trail.”

“Good. I’ve got another deal for you.”

Alain saw wariness spring into Flyn’s eyes. No surprise there. Centuries of poor treatment from the Great Guilds had left their legacy with the commons. Alain thought that Mari had noticed as well, but if so she let the general’s first reaction pass without comment.

“That dragon-killer of mine,” she said. “I’ve got another. It’s easy to use. Would you like it?”

The general nodded. “You know I would, Lady.”

“I should let you know that you’ll have to keep any other Mechanics from seeing it. If they catch you with it, it would go ill for you. In trade for the weapon, I need more food and some water. I know you can’t spare a lot, but I don’t have much left and will need a few more days’ worth. The Mage and I need that. But the biggest part of the price is this: that you tell everyone that Mage Alain slew that dragon but died in the process. No Mechanic was here and no Mage left this place alive.”

Flyn’s eyes went to Alain. “Sir Mage? Do you want us to report this to your Guild?”

Alain nodded. “Yes. Word of my death will be welcome to them.”

The general hesitated before speaking again. “Sir Mage?”

“My Guild seeks my death, General. I have no doubt of this after the events of yesterday.”

“I see.” Flyn bowed to Alain. “Then we will do as you ask, reporting your demise with as much detail as your Guild elders could possibly desire.”

“That will be of great service to me,” Alain said, “though it will do little good. Any Mage you speak to will know you lie.”

“I am aware of that, Sir Mage.” Flyn paused to think. “But perhaps I can make them think the lie is elsewhere, by claiming that my men and I slew the dragon after it had finished you. The Mages will think you must have inflicted a death-blow on the dragon as it killed you and assume we’re trying to take credit for an act only one of their own could have accomplished.”

“That might prove an effective ruse,” Alain agreed.

“Do we have a deal then?” Mari asked.

“Aye, Lady, we do, though as the Mage says, our lies may not fool his Guild for long. Nor, as with you, will all of my troops be able to keep from speaking of him when their tongues are loosened by drink. I will do my best to bind them to silence, though, and at worst to misdirect anyone asking after either of you. Do you then plan to depart together?”

“We do,” Alain said.

Flyn scratched his beard. “If I breathe a word of this I will be branded the biggest liar in the history of Dematr, even including the Mages. Very well, Sir Mage. We would be glad to escort you and the Lady at least part of the way to wherever you go.”

Mari shook her head. “I assume that you’re heading back west. We’re going east.”

“Into Imperial lands?” Flyn gave her and Alain an alarmed look. “The legions are out, Lady. This is no time to try to cross the high plains.”

“We have to, General.”

He eyed her, then nodded. “Getting to Kelsi or going back through Alexdria would require backtracking, would it not, Lady Mechanic? And it’s plain enough that you do not want to be found by your Guild, who you expect to be on your trail. Am I right? I know ways to Palla from here, from which you could get to Ihris.”

“We need to go east, General.” Mari had not raised her voice, it did not sound in any way harsher, and yet it rang with a finality that demanded respect.

“All right, then.” Flyn pondered her statement, then pointed. “You would be captured for certain if you go back the way we came. Well, given what you two have done, not easily captured, and perhaps even able to fight your way through. But there would be a fight, and my guess is that you seek to enter the Empire without attracting the attention a battle royal would generate.”

“That’s right,” Mari said. “We don’t want to attract any attention at all.”

“There are other routes east,” Flyn advised, “some unknown to the Imperials. One I know of will bring you well north of our track before leaving the Northern Ramparts. It would require three days’ march, about, from this point. The track is unsuited for any large force, and for horses as well, but two on foot could make use of it.”

Alain nodded. “This seems to be wise advice, Lady Mari.”

He had never called her Lady Mari before, but her sudden smile at him showed that she liked hearing her name said that way. General Flyn noticed that as well.

“Horses can’t do it?” Mari asked the general, then looked toward her steed. “General, it seems I have a horse for sale.”

Flyn grinned. “You’ll need Imperial currency. Let me see what I can scare up.”

When the general returned, it was with a substantial bag of coins. Mari frowned at it. “How much is in there?”

“I didn’t count it, Lady Mari. Every man and woman contributed what they could. A good amount of it isn’t Imperial coin, but you should be able to get it exchanged with the money lenders in Umburan, or wherever your destination lies.”

Mari took the bag, obviously disconcerted by the weight. “I’m no merchant, but I know this is too much. I have no interest in cheating anybody, and I won’t take money I haven’t earned.”

This time the general laughed. “Did you wonder that I asked if you were really a Mechanic? The troops insisted upon giving whatever they could, Lady.”

“Why?” Mari demanded.

“Because they know you saved them yesterday, Lady.”

Alain looked at the general. “There is something else that you have not said.”

The general nodded, grimacing. “Serves me right for speaking half-truths in front of a Mage. All right, Lady, the full truth is not just that you slew yonder dragon before it could massacre every man and woman here. It’s that the troops believe that you’re the daughter of Jules, of whom legend has long spoken.”

Alain had no trouble hiding his reaction to the news that the commons had guessed who Mari was, but unsurprisingly Mari had more trouble with it.

Mari stared at the general for a moment before managing to reply. “The daughter of Jules?” She laughed, trying to sound mocking, but Alain could hear the worry underlying that. He could understand that worry, if Mari was not yet ready for many to learn of her importance. “My parents were commons,” Mari continued, “of no special note. Why would anyone think I am related to Jules?”

Flyn’s own expression remained serious, his eyes on her. “My soldiers see that you wear the jacket of a Mechanic and have the skills of a Mechanic, yet you treat the common folk with courtesy. Though a day ago they would have declared it impossible, they see that you work with a Mage who has himself proven to be most unusual. They saw you stand watch over that Mage as he slept, protecting him just as you saved them. They know you expected the same treatment as them, and gave generously to save their injured comrades. And you killed a dragon with one blow, the sort of feat which Jules herself might have done. You are like no one any of them has seen or heard of, so they hope that you’ll be the one, Lady, the one the prophecy speaks of, the one who has come at last to overthrow the Great Guilds.”

Mari’s expression shifted rapidly through what Alain thought was dismay, embarrassment and panic, though it could have been all of those things at once and more. He suddenly realized the actual reason for Mari’s reluctance to be among the common soldiers. She had sensed their hero worship, sensed that they suspected who she was, and been greatly unsettled by it. “General,” Mari insisted, “that is absurd. I don’t know much about that prophecy, but I doubt that it says anything about Mages and Mechanics helping the daughter. Right, Alain?”

She had asked him, and Mari insisted on what she called truth, so Alain gave the answer he had learned in Ringhmon. “Though this is not known to commons, the Mage prophecy of old does say that the daughter will unite Mechanics, Mages, and commons to overthrow the Great Guilds.”

“It does?” General Flyn said, astonished.

“It does?” Mari said in very different tones, then glared at Alain. “You are supposed to be helping me,” she whispered to him angrily.

Mari turned back to face the general, composing her expression and her voice. “Regardless of what the prophecy said, I can’t imagine why anyone would think I have any role in it. I’m a Mechanic. I fix things. I’m not exactly capable of overthrowing anything, nor am I as dangerous as some people seem to think I am.”

The general gestured. “There’s a dragon which might argue that last point, if it wasn’t dead. And then there was Ringhmon, and Dorcastle—”

“Those had nothing to do with—” Mari looked to Alain, her expression reproachful. “What have you told him?”

“Nothing,” Alain said. “Almost nothing, that is.”

“Listen,” Mari said. “I’m a pretty good Mechanic. That’s all.” Mari waved both hands before her in a warding gesture. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get my pack together.” She walked off very quickly, leaving Alain and General Flyn.

Flyn gave Alain a shrewd look. “Your thoughts are hidden, Sir Mage. I would give much to know what you believe of the Lady Mari.”

“I do not believe that she would approve of my telling you that,” Alain said, feeling very uncertain. Since arriving, Mari had acted as if ready to reveal herself to these commons, but now she was denying who she was.

“But you have not only told me something not known about the prophecy, Sir Mage, you have also admitted that it exists. I am not aware that any Mage has ever done that.” Flyn looked in the direction that Mari had gone. “I do not ask you to violate any confidences, Sir Mage, but if she is indeed that one, she will need all the friends she can get.”

Alain intended saying nothing more, but his foresight came upon him again as Flyn finished speaking. A vision appeared before him: Mari and General Flyn on horseback, their mounts facing each other, Flyn saluting her with his sword. Alain sat on a horse as well, beside Mari. Vague shapes of other cavalry and soldiers on foot could be dimly seen in the background, at least one of the mounted figures also wearing the dark jacket of a Mechanic. A banner held by one of the cavalry bore the same design as Alain had seen on the armbands he and Mari had been wearing in his vision of the future battle at Dorcastle.

He blinked as the vision vanished, then looked at Flyn. Alain had seen himself in the vision, which meant it was something that might happen, a possible event if decisions and events led there, if he and Mari survived long enough. “You may play some role in the future, General. Your talents and your determination kept me alive. I would welcome your service to Master Mechanic Mari, protecting her as you protected me.”

Flyn stared at Alain. “Have you…seen something regarding that, Sir Mage?”

“I have,” Alain said, knowing that Flyn was asking if his foresight had provided any clues. “You may be, on some day to come, her general.”

“I would serve no Mechanic, unless she was in truth…” the general began, his voice trailing off and a look of wonder dawning on his face. “She must be. I had not dared hope. What a miracle it is that I have lived to see this day, that I have lived to meet her.”

“General,” Alain said, “you heard Lady Mari. She does not want it known as of yet. You know the perils that she will face when the Great Guilds hear of her. Already Lady Mari faces many threats, but when she becomes known, the storm that threatens this world will bend every effort to destroy her.”

“The storm?” Flyn nodded, his eyes on Alain. “You can feel it, too, then? Everywhere there is a sense that our world trembles and threatens to shatter from strains that have been pent up for too long. That also is so?”

“It is,” Alain said. “Many Mages have seen warning of the storm, have seen it cloaking armies and mobs of commons, have seen it approaching swiftly, but the Mage Guild itself refuses to accept those warnings.”

“How long, Sir Mage?” Flyn asked urgently. “How long until the daughter reveals herself? How long until the storm strikes?”

“I do not know,” Alain said. “There is a sense of urgency in the visions that warns time is limited.”

“And she goes into the empire?” Flyn asked, his voice despairing.

“To seek answers that she needs. And she will not do so alone. From this time on, I will be with her.”

“That is a great comfort, Sir Mage.” Flyn turned his head to look at where his soldiers were camped. “If she announced herself today, I have no doubt that my troops would immediately march with her. And I have no doubt that we would quickly be utterly destroyed. You are surely right that she needs secrecy for now. The daughter of Jules. Of blood or of spirit, I wonder? Surely both. But it explains her to me, Sir Mage. It explains that dead dragon over there. And since you two are clearly companions, perhaps it explains you as well. Who else could awaken the man beneath a Mage? Why did you tell me all of this, Sir Mage?” the general asked. “There is no more valuable secret in this world.”

It took Alain a moment to answer, as he tried to understand the reasons himself. “I…trust you.” Was that the right word? He tried to remember exactly what “trust” meant as the general’s eyes flashed amazement. Alain’s thoughts, his feelings, were very hard to express after so many years of being forced to restrain emotion.

“Thank you, Sir Mage,” Flyn said. “I am beyond astonishment, but not beyond gratitude for your trust. I assure you that it is not misplaced.”

Alain inclined his head respectfully toward the general, just as he would have toward an elder of the Mage Guild. An extremely inappropriate gesture from a Mage to a common, yet it felt right to Alain. “How is it that the commons do not know the lineage of Jules, if they believe so in the prophecy of the daughter?”

Flyn pointed toward Alain. “Because of the Great Guilds, Sir Mage. According to legend, the prophecy was made while Jules still lived. Somehow, she knew of it. It was kept secret as long as possible, but Jules and those close to her knew that it would leak eventually, and that when it happened the Great Guilds would ensure the destruction of anyone related to her. Before Jules died, her children were hidden among the commons in different places. It must have been hard on her, but it was the only way to keep them alive. None know the lineage of Jules, Sir Mage, for that was the only way to ensure the daughter of her blood could someday be born and grow to fulfill the prophecy.”

Who had made the prophecy? Alain wondered. It must have been a Mage, for even though Mage elders disdained the legend, he had learned that most also sought to stamp it out with a fervor that bespoke belief, and the unconventional elder he had spoken with in Dorcastle had confirmed the prophecy had been made. But why would the Mage who saw the prophecy not immediately have told the elders of that long-ago day? Could that Mage have been like Alain, discovering a road that did not require obedience to elders?

Mari returned, her pack on her back, outwardly casual even though Alain could spot the tension beneath that facade. “Are you ready to go?” she asked Alain.

Before Alain could answer, Flyn unbuckled his sword scabbard, knelt, and held the weapon hilt-first toward Mari. “My sword is yours, Lady Mari, now and for as long as I live. Whatever you command shall be my law.”

Mari stared at him, then gave Alain a suspicious look. “What did you tell him? Does he know who I really am?”

“He knows who you are,” Alain said.

“Then I don’t understand why—” Composing herself, Mari touched the hilt of the general’s sword. “I don’t expect to need a sword or a general, but thank you for your offer. Now, please get up. I don’t like having anyone kneel to me. Please don’t do that again.”

Flyn stood, smiling grimly as he refastened his weapon to his belt. “You have done me the honor of accepting my offer of future service. If you ever need me or my sword, just send word. Now, let me tell you of the route you should take.” He described the way, marking a piece of paper to make a map which Alain watched Mari study carefully. When Mari had memorized the path, General Flyn stepped back and saluted. “May the spirits of all who came before us smile upon your road, Lady. Keep her safe from the storm, Sir Mage.”

The common soldiers watched them as Mari and Alain walked back eastward toward where the secret route would branch off from the pass. Mari kept her gaze set forward, her discomfort making it clear she was aware of being watched, though she occasionally looked upward with a puzzled expression as if searching for clouds.

Then one of the soldiers raised his sword and began banging it against his shield in a steady rhythm. The soldiers around him began doing the same, swords, pikes, crossbows and even the two Mechanic rifles slamming into shields over and over, the thud of metal on metal resounding from the walls of the pass.

Mari had spun around at the first noise, her face wary, then stared before turning to walk away again. “Why are they doing that? What does it mean?” she asked Alain.

“I have been told that it is a sign of great respect which common soldiers render to those who they believe have earned such a gesture,” Alain replied.

“Oh,” Mari sighed with relief. “Then it’s for you.”

He glanced back, hearing some cries of “The Mage” mingled with shouts of “The Lady!” General Flyn and his surviving staff stood rendering salutes to the departing pair. Alain felt his heart stir, gladdened that these commons felt he had earned such gestures, but he knew that the display was not solely for him. “They were also impressed by you,” he told Mari.

“I doubt it. By tomorrow they’ll have forgotten me.”

She clearly did not believe that, but Alain let it pass.

It was not until they were out of sight of the soldiers and the noise of the salutation had faded that Mari gave Alain a sharp look. “What did you tell him? That general?”

“I told him of a vision I had as we spoke,” Alain explained. “It showed him saluting you while I and soldiers stood by.”

She rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t much of a leap into the future. He did that just before we left. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy. That’s all you two talked about?”

“That, and who you were. I did not speak of anything that you do not wish spoken of, but he guessed much from what I could say.”

Mari made an angry noise in her throat. “I hate being on display like that. Look, all you commons, it’s a Mage and Mechanic together! Do you think they’re lovers?”

“Lovers?” Alain asked.

“In more than the emotional sense of the word,” Mari explained shortly. “I didn’t like that sort of speculation by others about my love life when it was about other Mechanics, and I like it even less now because there’s almost a circus sideshow quality to the guessing-games. You didn’t encourage that daughter stuff, did you? I cannot believe that you told him the prophecy included Mages and Mechanics.”

“But it does,” Alain said. “And you have told me that truth matters. I thought perhaps you had already heard that detail of the prophecy as well.”

Mari sighed. “Alain, I’d prefer not to talk about that prophecy. I’m already under a lot of pressure, and talking about that makes it worse.”

“I understand. I will not mention it again until such time as you wish to discuss it.”

“Then we’ll never talk about it again,” Mari said, her voice firm. “The last few weeks have been rough. I did tell you that, didn’t I? Rushing to find you, always worrying that I might be too late…let me relax for one day at least, thinking about nothing more serious than putting one foot in front of the other.” She took a deep breath, visibly trying to relax. “He should have offered you his sword,” Mari declared. “Just like those soldiers saluting you. You were the one who did so much to ensure they survived.” They were walking side by side, and Mari gave him a smile. She seemed vastly relieved not to be the object of worshipful gazes from common soldiers any longer. “What are you thinking now?”

“I am resolving to be worthy of being beside you,” Alain answered.

She laughed. “You don’t sound like you mean it, but I bet you do. A lot of guys I’ve met were the exact opposite. They’d sound completely sincere but I knew they didn’t mean a word of what they were saying.” Mari looked around. “Here we are alone together again, just like in the Waste. That seems like a million years ago.”

“It was just short of four months ago,” Alain said. “At least this time we have enough water.”

“Yeah.” The smile was gone and Mari appeared tired. “I’m worried. I’m really worried. And scared, for myself and for you. Most of my life has been spent trying to learn and understand things. Now, for the first time, I’m not sure that I want to know the answers, because of what those answers may mean. But I don’t have any choice, because our Guilds have already decided that you and I need to be dealt with because of what we’re going to do.”

“You wish to speak of the prophecy now?” Alain asked, surprised.

“No. What does— Will you just drop it? If those soldiers blab about me being that person we’ll have half the world trying to kill us!” Mari calmed as she looked at him. “As it is, I don’t know what I’d do if I was facing this alone. But I’d already be long dead in the Waste or in Ringhmon if not for you. It’s funny, but there have been plenty of times I’ve thought about what might have happened if things had been different: if you and I hadn’t met, or if you hadn’t come with me when the caravan was attacked, or if you hadn’t come into the dungeon in Ringhmon after me, or if I hadn’t talked to you again after we parted in Ringhmon. You would think that would have made things simpler, and it would have, because whenever I consider what might have happened in those cases I come to dead ends. Literally. Knowing you has complicated things a lot, but without you I’d have the simplicity of the grave.”

He thought about that. “This is also the case with me. You have saved me more than once. My path would have ended in more than one place without you.”

Mari frowned, looking ahead now. “You know, it’s because you’re a Mage. I mean, you’re a great person beneath that, but if you hadn’t had a Mage’s abilities I still would have died. Having a common with me wouldn’t have gotten me out of that cell in Ringhmon, and having another Mechanic along wouldn’t have helped either. If I’d been a Mage, with whatever special abilities I might have had, would it have kept you alive?”

Alain shook his head. “No. I do not think so. Your Mechanic skills, your knowledge, have been very important to our survival. It is as you said in Dorcastle. It matters that we have these different abilities. I do not know that they have ever been used to the same purpose.”

“You remember that? You actually do remember everything I say, don’t you?”

He took a moment to frame his words properly before saying them. “For many years, after I was taken from my parents to the be trained by the Mage Guild, I was told that only a few voices should be listened to. For many years, I listened only to the elders. When I met you, when you spoke to me, I realized that other voices should also be heard. Your words, your actions, showed me that what I been told for twelve years as a Mage acolyte was not all that was worth knowing.”

Mari gave him a look that was hard to interpret. “So are you just accepting everything I say?”

“No,” Alain said. “Simply accepting what I am told by anyone would just repeat the error. I pay close attention to what you say, and know what you say is always worth careful consideration, but each time I must decide whether it reflects a wisdom I should accept.”

She grinned at him. “Good.”

The sun had not risen much farther before they reached the cleft in the wall of the pass which marked the entrance to the hidden path. Mari squeezed through first, followed by Alain. This way was narrow and often difficult as it climbed and wove through the mountains, making for a long and tiring day of travel. “I suppose it was too much to expect this route to be a little easier,” Mari complained after one rough stretch.

“But you always prefer the harder way,” Alain pointed out.

“Why did I ever tell you that? And I never meant literally the harder way.” They found a slightly wider area walled in by heights on three sides as the sun was setting and chose to camp there, sharing some of the rations that the soldiers had given them. “We are close to enemy territory,” Alain said as darkness fell, “and my Guild may still have assassins on my trail. We should maintain a watch. I shall take the first one.”

Mari nodded wearily. “All right. Wake me in a few hours.”

“Hours?”

She managed to look even more tired. “I forgot. How do Mages tell time?”

“We watch the sun and the stars.”

“Great. When the stars tell you that the night is about a quarter over, wake me.”

“A quarter?” Alain asked.

“Oh, blazes,” Mari said. “Couldn’t your Mage elders have taught their acolytes any math at all? Wake me when you feel like sleeping.”

They were higher up and the night grew colder than before, but they could not risk a fire. Mari watched the sun come up with a hopeful expression. “We should be heading downward today and tomorrow, and the path is supposed to get easier until the final stretch that will dump us onto the Imperial plains.”

They had been walking for most of the morning, and Alain sought for something to speak with Mari about. Since parting from Mari at Dorcastle, Alain had paid discreet attention to commons and Mechanics, and seen that they often spoke with each other, instead of following the practice of Mages, who only spoke when something had to be said. Alain wanted to speak about the prophecy, but Mari had made it plain that she did not want to talk about that.

But thinking of the prophecy and Mari’s role in it reminded him of another vision, the one in Dorcastle, and something in that vision he had not understood. “Mari, could you tell me something?”

The path had narrowed, forcing Mari to walk ahead of him so Alain could not see her face, but Mari answered in a cheerful voice. “You want to talk? That’s good. What is it?”

“What does it mean when a man and a woman wear rings?”

Mari suddenly stumbled, even though Alain could not see what might have tripped her. “Why do you ask?” she replied, in still-cheerful tones which nonetheless now held more tension.

“I have seen them, and I do not know what they mean.”

“What kind of rings?”

“Plain gold. On both the man and the woman.”

Mari stumbled again, and this time her voice was much more tense. “They mean that the man and the woman have pledged their promises to each other. That’s why they’re called promise rings.”

“Promises?”

“They’re married to each other.”

“Oh.” Alain must have let emotion sound, because Mari stopped walking, spinning about to face him.

“Oh? What does that mean?” she demanded.

“Perhaps it is something we should discuss at a later time,” Alain suggested.

“I think we should discuss it now, Alain.” Mari searched his face. “Why did you ask me about those rings? Did you really not know what they meant?”

“No, I did not,” Alain said. “Mages do not marry. It was not discussed among us, and I did not recall anything about rings from my time before being forced to join the Mage Guild.”

The tension seemed to drain out of Mari very quickly, leaving some other emotions that Alain was unsure of. She turned away and started walking again, seeming oddly deflated. “I see. Well, now you know.”

Encouraged but also anxious over Mari’s puzzling behavior, Alain kept speaking. “It was one of the things in my vision at Dorcastle of our possible future which I did not understand, so—”

“Your vision?” Mari twisted in mid-step to face Alain. “The one at Dorcastle? The one with you and me in it?”

“Yes,” Alain agreed, feeling suddenly much more anxious. “Perhaps—”

“We had rings on? You and me? Identical rings?”

“Yes.”

“We were married in that vision and YOU DIDN’T EVEN MENTION IT UNTIL NOW?”

Alain took two steps backwards, wishing at this moment that he had remained silent. “It appears so.”

Mari was just staring at him, so many emotions showing that Alain could not sort them out. Her voice this time was very low and very intense and made Alain very nervous. “Didn’t you think that was important?”

“I did not know what it meant.”

“HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW WHAT IT MEANT!?”

Alain tried to stand tall in the face of Mari’s fury. “I am a Mage and—”

“I know you’re a Mage! And I’m a Mechanic who should have had her head examined a long time ago!” Mari stared off into the distance, appearing stricken now. “We’re going to be married?”

Obviously, this was the source of Mari’s upset. Alain tried to reassure her. “The vision only showed what might be. One possible outcome. There is no need for us to do anything we do not want—”

“What?” She was staring at him again, her expression even harder to read. “What are you saying?”

“Just because the vision showed us married to each other does not mean that we have to ever—”

“You don’t want to marry me?” Mari asked in a soft voice that nonetheless sounded extremely dangerous.

“I…”

“I’m waiting for an answer, Mage Alain.”

There was only one possible way out of this that Alain could see. “If you wish to marry—”

“If I wish to? What about you? And maybe I don’t wish to, Mage Alain.” Mari had somehow gotten directly in front of him again, leaning in so that Alain leaned backwards. “Maybe I wouldn’t marry you for all the jewels in the Imperial vaults!”

“But I do wish to marry you, Mari,” Alain said desperately.

“Then why didn’t you tell me what was in that vision? Was it supposed to be some kind of surprise?”

“You are being unfair,” Alain said, finally getting his mental balance again. “I did not know the meaning of the rings, and we had little time to speak right after I saw the vision.”

“You managed to mention a few other things! Something about armbands and some battle—”

“I thought the battle raging around us in the vision was far more important than the rings.” Mari just stared at him. “Did this one err?”

She nodded, her face still rigid with multiple emotions. “That one erred. Boy, did that one err.”

“Mari, nothing in that vision is fixed, nothing in it must be in our future. Everything depends on our actions, on our decisions.” He looked back at her, the full import finally hitting him. “We…we may be married someday?” His voice sank, and Alain felt the unfamiliar motion of a smile forming on his lips, but in his amazement he made no effort to suppress the smile. “This may happen?”

Mari’s face was relaxing as she watched him. “Yes, Mage. It may happen. Even now, it may happen. Don’t ask me why, but it may happen.”

Alain had to lean on the nearest boulder as emotions flooded him. “It was never to be in my future. Earlier we spoke of family, but I did not realize…now it may be. And with you.”

She had actually begun smiling again. “If you play your cards right.”

“Will you help me make that future happen, Mari? That part of it?”

Her hand rested on his. “I’ll give it my best shot. Alain, I honestly cannot tell you yet whether I want to marry you. It would be a very big step, and we haven’t actually spent all that much time together and…and there are some other issues I need to deal with. Big issues. But we’ll see, Alain. We’ll see.”

The fury had passed. Mari was smiling at him again, then she turned to walk onward, humming what sounded like a merry song under her breath.

Alain followed, deciding not to try to talk about anything else for a while.

He had not realized how dangerous conversation could be.