The Hidden Masters of Marandur

Chapter Seven

Another night in the mountains, much lower down now. Mari sat watching the stars during her time on sentry duty. She had spent a lot of time doing that since Alain had talked to her about the stars: watching the stars, and thinking. My Guild says Mechanics came from the stars, but discourages studying them. Why? What secrets do the skies hold? Was Alain right when he wondered if everyone on Dematr came from the stars originally? But how could that be possible? Whatever the stars are, the vast majority of them never seem to move relative to each other. If there’s no apparent parallax, they must be incredibly distant.

She gazed at Alain. His face, usually still emotionless during waking periods, was now relaxed in sleep. The Mage had trouble forming anything like a natural smile when awake, but sometimes at night Mari had seen a very ordinary and very comforting smile drift for a moment across Alain’s face. Married? I really haven’t considered that. He saw it, though, us married in the future. What would it be like? What decisions do we have to make to get there?

I don’t know for sure yet, but I think I want to get there.

What if Alain had told me about those rings just before we parted at Dorcastle? I’d just realized I was in love. I hadn’t really thought about a future with him. Marriage? I might have run screaming in the opposite direction. Knowing that possible future then might have made it not happen.

I’ve had months to think about it, months to realize that it wasn’t just some crazy crush on a guy who needed fixing. Now I can think yeah, maybe. I heard those common soldiers who couldn’t stop talking to each other about how brave he had been, how he had saved them. That’s my Mage.

I wonder what our children would be like? I’ve never wondered that about a guy before.

An image of her mother came then, dimmed by the years, seen from the perspective of the eight-year-old Mari had been when she last saw her mother, and Mari felt suddenly cold. No. No. Not if I end up like her, someone who could abandon and forget about her own daughter. I can’t do that to Alain, to any children. Maybe it’s better if he and I never get married, maybe it’s better if I never have children.

Though, honestly, the odds of either Alain or I staying alive long enough for that to be a possibility are getting worse all the time. Mari looked west, back in the direction they had come from. And if those commons go around telling people I’m the daughter of Jules, we won’t have any chance at all. Where did they get such a crazy idea? And why does Alain seem to encourage them sometimes? I know when he says they know who I am that Alain is talking about me being a Master Mechanic, and who I am inside, and his girlfriend. Not some mythical hero who’s going to save the world.

I mean, I want to fix things, and that may mean doing some very radical stuff, but that’s not the same as…

Is it?

She tried to think about other things until she awoke Alain for his turn on watch, but Mari’s dreams were troubled for the rest of the night.

When Alain woke her in the morning, Mari winced at the effort of standing. “Three days of riding, followed by three days of climbing. My thighs are never going to forgive me. According to General Flyn’s map we should have one last difficult stretch and then reach level ground before this day is out.”

Before starting out this morning she took off her Mechanics jacket, trading it for a coat such as commons wore, carefully packing away the jacket in her pack. Alain watched her, then exchanged his robes for common clothes from his own smaller pack. Anyone seeing them now wouldn’t be able to tell that they belonged to the Great Guilds, or that a Mage and Mechanic were keeping company.

The path started out that day following gentle slopes, but by afternoon the trail had grown much steeper, plunging downward at so sharp an angle that they were climbing down rather than walking. Mari saw the narrow gap ahead with relief, and as the sun sank behind the Northern Ramparts again she and Alain stepped onto fairly level ground at the foot of the mountains.

Mari pulled out a large map she had bought back in Kelsi, spreading it upon a nearby rock. “Any idea how far north we are of the pass you used?”

Alain peered toward the south. “I see nothing familiar.”

“I think we’re about here,” Mari suggested, tapping the map. “Flyn thought we would be far enough north to avoid any Imperial forces guarding the pass. That means we need to go east from here until we cross this stream,” she continued, tracing the route with one finger, “then cut southeast to get back into farming country. According to the map, this area around us is supposed to be used for grazing herds, but I don’t see any.”

He gazed around, looking at the plains rolling gently off to the north, south and east. “It is autumn. The herds would have been brought in by now, taken to market for sale or slaughter, or moved to sheltered areas for the winter.”

“How do you…? Oh. Your parents’ farm?”

“Yes.”

Mari hesitated, seeing how Alain was closing down his feelings, reacting to the pain of the long-suppressed memories this area was bringing out. His voice had, for a moment, softened and gained a more youthful quality, before a Mage’s unemotional tones came back in control. “Alain, I—”

“Let us not speak of it now.” He turned a troubled gaze her way. “Please.”

She nodded, making herself smile. Because of his training as a Mage, Alain had incredible difficulty saying please, so it only came out when he expended great effort. That told her how upset he was right now. “Sure. Whatever you say.” Seeking something else to talk about, she bent back to the map. “Anyway, if we run into any legionaries we’ll say we’re out hiking and show them our forged Imperial identity papers.”

“What is hiking?” Alain asked.

“Walking for fun,” Mari explained. “I mean, you’re walking long distances, but not because you have to. For fun.”

Alain gazed steadily at her. “Walking long distances, for fun. Are you saying a joke?”

Mari shook her head. “I know it sounds like that, but people really do it. Anyway, once we’re back in farming country we’ll hit the main road to Umburan and Pandin and can follow that all the way to Severun.”

“It does not appear to be too difficult,” Alain agreed. “But I remember being cautioned that maps carry their own illusions, often making appear simple a journey which is actually far more difficult in practice.”

“Let’s hope not.” Mari bit her lip, folded the map, then reshouldered her pack with a heavy sigh. She felt helpless to do what she wanted to do the most, to give him comfort. All she could do was lean in and kiss him quickly, which did bring a spark of life back to his eyes. Giving Alain another encouraging smile, she led the way as they started walking away from the mountains.

Neither talked much for the rest of the day. Mari didn’t know what to say, and suspected that Alain was trying to sort out his own feelings. They reached a wide, shallow stream with low banks as the last light of day faded, drawing a relieved gasp from Mari. “Just about where it should be. We’re not lost.” Tired out by the trip through the mountains, they stopped on the banks of the stream.

Mari took the first watch, looking out into the darkness, comforted by the presence of Alain and by the murmur of the stream, but also worried that the noise of the water could conceal the sound of enemies sneaking up on them. Is this what the rest of my life is going to be like? Worrying about people trying to kill me? And I have to worry about Alain even though we’re together again. It’s because of me that he started remembering things, and that’s good, but I can only guess how hard it must be for him sometimes.

If only his mother and father weren’t dead. If only I could take him back to them, so they could see what kind of man he has become and so he could have a family again. Surely Alain’s parents wouldn’t do what mine did. Surely they wouldn’t reject him.

They didn’t have much food left in the morning, but Mari expected to reach a populated area by nightfall. “Even if all we find is one farm house, they’ll sell us some food and give us directions.”

“Yes.” Alain’s voice had gone totally dispassionate once more.

“What’s the matter? Tough memories again?”

He stared into the distance, then spoke slowly. “Yes. This area is similar to where I grew up, before the Mage Guild came for me. The memories it brings should be good memories,” Alain answered, still outwardly emotionless, “but they bring hurt. It was much easier when I denied them.”

“I’m so sorry.” Mari watched him, feeling powerless to help again.

His eyes rested on her. “You bring me memories which do not hurt. You helped me remember things I should never have tried to forget. Thank you.”

Mari smiled. “I remember the first time you said thank you to me and how shocked I was hearing it from a Mage. Now I bet you say that to all the Lady Mechanics.”

“I do not talk to other Lady Mechanics.”

“I know. That was a joke. I’m glad you’re not sorry you got to know me. Let’s get going. I don’t like being alone out here. The sooner we can blend in with the Imperial population the safer we’ll be. It’s not hard to cross here,” Mari added as they waded through the stream.

“We are fortunate,” Alain told her. “It is more difficult downstream.”

She felt a shadow cross her mind. “Where that bridge was? Where you almost died?”

“Yes.”

“I’m really proud of you for that, but don’t do it again. I’m being selfish. I need you.” Mari waved one finger at Alain. “Don’t be a hero.”

He regarded her impassively. “Even if you need a hero?”

“That would be different. But we’re going to try to avoid that from now on. We’re going to be safe and quiet and no one is going to try to kill either of us for a while.”

“You do not believe that.”

Mari narrowed her eyes at him. “You know, I’m starting to realize that there are some disadvantages to being with a guy who can figure out how I feel about things. How about letting me have some illusions?”

“Everything is an illusion,” Alain replied. “Today is my birthday,” he suddenly added. “I am eighteen years old.”

“Really?” Mari forced herself to smile again, wondering what Alain was thinking now. Maybe about his parents. Maybe about birthdays when he was very young, before Mages took him from his family to become an acolyte in one of their Guild Halls. So many hard memories, so many things in Alain’s life which had been lost. What could she say? “Congratulations. I’m sorry I forgot to bring a gift.”

He nodded, then the rigidity of his face finally cracked and Alain tried to smile at her. “Mages do not celebrate birthdays. They only mark them. But you have brought a gift. Your presence with me is a great gift, one greater than I had ever imagined.”

Mari felt her face warming, wondering if she was blushing like a school girl. “You’re easy to please, but thank you. I mean, you’re welcome. Whatever. We’d better get moving. We have a long way to go today.”

They spent a long morning tramping across rocky fields which rose and fell like lengthy ocean swells frozen in place. Aside from a few small abandoned sheds apparently used by ranchers during the summer, they had seen no signs of people or buildings. In part that was a relief, since Mari wasn’t looking forward to encountering Imperial legionaries. But the emptiness also wore on her. She had spent most of her life indoors, within the rooms of Mechanics Guild Halls or the Mechanics Academy in Palandur, and in cities. The vastness around her now made her slightly dizzy at times.

By noon, though, Mari could see far enough across the landscape to spot in the distance the road they sought. “We’ll be there before nightfall.” She turned to smile encouragingly at Alain and then stopped, her smile fading, as she caught sight of the sky to the north. “That looks ugly.”

Alain turned as well, his face growing rigid again as he studied the skies. “Those clouds look very bad, and they are moving fast.”

“Yeah. This way,” Mari agreed. “Is that the storm the general warned about?”

“No,” Alain said, slight puzzlement in his eyes as he looked at her. “He warned of the storm of violence that threatened this world.”

“Allegorical storm,” Mari said. “All right. Those clouds aren’t any allegory, though.”

Alain shifted his gaze back to the north. “I have a memory, from my life on my parent’s ranch, of being warned of clouds like that. I was warned to reach shelter fast if I saw such a sky. Run home, I was told. Run home.”

Mari nodded, fighting a twinge of fear. “I don’t see anything that looks like shelter. We’d better get walking faster.”

They picked up the pace, heading for the road at the best clip they could sustain. At one point Mari saw riders and a wagon hastening down the road, still far too distant to hail for help. The lack of other traffic on the road was itself a glaring warning sign that the local inhabitants had already headed for cover.

All through the afternoon the clouds built, rising behind them in great roiling sky-mountains dark with menace. The sun vanished as the clouds blocked its rays and a chill wind came moaning down from the north. Mari and Alain paused long enough to pull what other protective clothing they had from their packs. Mari took another look at the clouds, thinking that what clothes she and Alain had weren’t nearly heavy enough to deal with what that weather was bringing. After a moment’s hesitation, she pulled off the shoulder holster that held her pistol and stuffed it and the weapon well down inside the pack as well. As a final precaution, they draped their blankets over their shoulders for more protection and so they could improvise head coverings if needed.

They altered their track a bit, bearing to the east as they closed on the road, and the wind shifted as well, coming around to strike them in the sides and the face. Mari gasped as the cold hit. “This is off the Bright Sea. Alain, how can there be a blizzard out of the north in the fall?”

“It is late fall,” Alain stated, his face and voice betraying grimness. “Such storms are rare but not unknown. When they strike, they can be terrible.”

“We need to get into shelter.”

Alain swept his hand across the horizon. The land still rose and fell in slow gradients, but no sign of buildings could be seen. “All we can do is seek the road. If there is shelter, it will be along there.”

Even though it wasn’t yet sunset, the sky had darkened to an ominous gray tinged with yellow. The cloud cover had overtaken them now, reaching ahead to swallow the clear skies before them. To the north, the sky under the clouds was dark with curtains of falling precipitation. Mari and Alain walked quickly, still setting the best pace they could as the wind whipped at them.

Rain started to fall, large, hard drops spattering onto the ground and striking the two walkers. Mari wrapped her blanket over her head as best she could, knowing it would soon be soaked with the chilly rain but needing to keep out the cold. Within minutes, though, the rain changed to sleet, icy particles stinging their exposed skin.

Then came the snow. Big, fat flakes hurtling down under the wind’s lash to quickly accumulate on the ground. Mari blinked her eyes clear, feeling an icy fear inside that matched the cold outside. What have I done? We’re here now because of me and we’re stuck out in the open in a blizzard. What have I done?

Alain shouted something and Mari looked down to see they had struck the road at last. Turning to follow the track, they leaned into the storm, plodding ahead and staring forward for any sign of safety. But the swirling mass of white kept them from seeing more than a lance ahead now. “Alain, I’m sorry!” Mari cried, unable to keep it inside any longer.

“For what?” he called back, the impassiveness of his voice a comfort now.

“For leading us into this. I saved you, but now I’ve led you into this and I don’t know how we’ll survive.”

“Mari.” His hand fell on her shoulder and gripped her. “It is not your fault. No one can predict these storms. And I chose to walk with you. I do not regret that.”

“Alain, we’re already tired and we have no idea how far it is to any shelter. We could walk past shelter in this storm and not even see it!”

“But we must keep trying,” the Mage insisted. “Remember the Waste, when you would not let me give up. You were right then. To survive now we must keep moving.”

Mari blinked away snow again and rewrapped her blanket head covering. “Yeah. I guess so.”

They couldn’t tell whether or not night had fallen, since the blackness had become so complete and the snow limited sight. Drifts began forming and blocking their way, so that before long they were slogging through snow past their ankles and in some places up to their knees. By now Mari couldn’t even tell if they were still on the road or if they had wandered off to one side into the empty fields. The crunch of Alain’s boots in the snow told her that he stayed just behind her, but otherwise the only sounds were the howling of the wind and the spattering of the snow against her.

Mari stumbled, barely catching herself in time to keep from falling. I can’t keep this up. Not much longer. She squinted against the brutal wind. “Alain!” she shouted through lips gone numb. “Listen, if I fall, you keep going, you understand me?” He didn’t reply. “Alain! Did you hear me?”

“I heard you!” he finally called to her over the moaning of the blizzard. “I will not leave you!”

“Listen, you fool, if I fall you won’t be able to carry me! We’ll both die out here if you stay with me!” A wild swirl of icy snow battered them, then passed on. “So if it comes to that you go! Just keep walking and get yourself safe!”

“No!” Alain’s voice, which had barely carried over the storm before, came clearly this time.

“I’m not asking you! I’m telling you! I won’t have anyone dying for me! Especially not you!”

“No! I would rather leave this dream in your company than continue to live in it without you!”

“I don’t care, you wretched Mage!” Tears were welling in her eyes, freezing on her cheeks. “If I fall, leave me!”

“I will not take orders from a Mechanic!” Alain shouted. “And I will not leave you, just as you would leave no one behind. We will live together or we will die together and enter the new dream hand in hand.”

Mari glared into the blinding sheets of snow and sleet being hurled at them, her anger bringing the first hint of warmth she had felt for a seeming eternity. “You’re an idiot, Mage! Have I told you that?”

“I do not think so.”

She realized he had sped up slightly to be next to her, then felt something on her arm. “What are you doing?”

“Tying us together so we will not lose each other in this storm. We should have done that already. I had forgotten, though. My father’s words come back to me.” He leaned his head close, but it was so dark and her eyes were so weary from the storm that all Mari could see of Alain’s face was a blur. “We are in this together, no matter where it takes us.”

“I don’t want you to die!” she cried, tears once more fighting their way out against the wind and joining the ice on her face.

“And I do not want you to die. So we shall stay together, and we shall continue putting one foot in front of the other, until we either reach safety or we lie down together for the last time.”

“You are such a fool, Mage. I love you.”

Even over the storm she could hear the struggle as Alain tried to voice something he had been trained never to say. “I…I…love you.”

“Stars above, you said it. You managed to say it.” More tears, trickling out to freeze against her cheeks. Why now, when their lives seemed to have very little time left? “If you love me, then leave me. Leave me when I fall so that I can die knowing you still have a chance to live.”

“No. We seem to be made for each other’s company, so I will not deny destiny by ever leaving you.”

She managed to rouse one last protest. “I don’t believe in destiny!”

“Then I will believe for both of us. Do not talk anymore. Just walk.”

And she did. Thinking angry thoughts of Mages too stubborn to pay attention to common sense, of boys so blinded by love that they wouldn’t do what was obviously the necessary thing, Mari kept raising a foot, planting it a little farther forward, then raising the other foot. She pulled her head covering over her completely, trying to give her face what protection she could, and trusted in Alain to guide them while she muttered a continuous string of comments through numbed lips about his failure to be reasonable. Every step was an agony, but Mari kept going without any idea where she was getting the strength to keep lifting her feet and moving them forward, time after time. I can’t let him die out here. If I stop, he’ll die. So I have to keep walking. Why is he doing this to me? If he’d just leave, I could lie down and sleep. Couldn’t I? He said that he loved me. He said that he’d never leave me. Do I ever want to leave him again? Not if I can help it.

Well, he may be an idiot, but he’s my idiot.

I won’t leave him and I won’t let him die out here. A fresh gust of icy snow staggered her. But if worse comes to worst, at least we’ll die together. Like Alain said, hand in hand to whatever comes after this world.