The Pirates of Pacta Servanda

Chapter Five

The captain of the Gray Lady shook his head, looking at Mari. “Unless you’ve a miracle handy, Lady, I’d recommend doing as they say.”

My miracle is still unconscious in a bunk, Mari thought bitterly. “If we don’t comply and that warship opens fire at this range, we’ll be ripped apart. At the least, we need to buy time. Do it!” she yelled at the captain.

The captain shouted the necessary orders and his sailors raced aloft to pull in the Gray Lady’s sails, reducing the amount of area the wind could strike and therefore causing the small clipper’s speed to fall off. The captain raised his speaking trumpet again. “We’re shortening sail.”

“Thank you!” the warship called back.

Alli looked back at Mari. “Thank you?”

Mari stared at the warship, then gave the Gray Lady’s captain a perplexed look. “Are Confederation warships normally that polite when they’re trying to intercept other ships?”

The captain looked equally baffled. “Not in my experience. Not polite at all.”

The voice from the warship called again. “Shorten sail more! You’ll be too far ahead!”

“I thought that was the idea,” Bev complained. “Aren’t we trying to escape? What’s going on?”

Once again the captain shook his head to indicate he didn’t know.

Mari hit her limit. “I can’t fight people when I don’t even know if they’re trying to fight me!” She strode aft and took the speaking trumpet from the captain. “On the warship! Why are you asking us to slow down?”

After a brief pause, the warship called back. “Weren’t you told?”

Mari glared around the deck of the Gray Lady. “Was anybody told anything?” Blank stares met her question. She raised the speaking trumpet again. “No! What should we have been told?”

“The Confederation is tired of the Syndaris harassing shipping. At the request of the Julesport city council, Confederation warships Intrepid and Gallant have been ordered to leave the harbor immediately and prevent any Syndari galleys from interfering with free commerce.”

“I’ll be damned,” the captain said, for once at a loss for other words.

“You’re escorting us out of the harbor?” Mari called back.

“No! We do not see any ships leaving the harbor at this time! There is only open water off of our port side! Whiskey whiskey, nora nora. Please shorten sail more so you don’t get too far ahead of us!”

Mari lowered the speaking trumpet and looked at the captain. “Whiskey whiskey, nora nora?”

The captain grinned. “That stands for wink wink, nudge nudge. Sailor talk. They’re pretending we’re not here.”

“But… why?”

“Because the Great Guilds would take it very badly if the Confederation rendered aid to you, Lady. But if the Confederation just happens to decide to get tough with the Syndaris at the same time as you’re escaping from Julesport? How could anyone have known that was happening? So sorry, Great Guilds, we didn’t mean it and we’ll never do it again.” The captain’s smile shone in the moonlight. “But as for us, the only ones who have to fear that warship this morning are any Syndari galleys waiting outside the harbor.”

“This morning?” Mari looked around at the dark sky and the bright moon above.

“It’s well past midnight, Lady. A new day, if you’ll pardon the term.”

Mari heard cheering and stared blankly down the length of the ship. All of the crew and all of the Mechanics were looking at her and applauding.

“Nice,” Alli approved as she walked up to Mari.

“What are you talking about?”

“This.” Alli waved around. “We get in to harbor safe, we get our supplies, we rescue Alain, we pick up some new friends including Calu—and do I ever owe you for that—and now we just got out this mess without a shot being fired!”

“I did not—” Mari tried to gather her thoughts. “I didn’t do any of that. No. I led the rescue of Alain. But not the rest.”

“Mari, you’re the most modest friend I’ve got,” Alli said with a laugh, “as well as the most brilliant. Accept the praise. You earned it.”

“You are all out of your minds,” Mari complained.

All lights extinguished, the Gray Lady kept to the lee of the two Confederation warships as they charged out at four Syndari galleys drifting near the entrance to the harbor. As the galleys scattered to avoid the frigates, the Gray Lady slipped past unseen and sailed due west until the lights of Julesport, the frigates, and the galleys all vanished beneath the horizon.

Only then, alone in the wide expanse of the Jules Sea, did the Gray Lady turn south. The sun rising off the port side gilded the masts and sails of the clipper ship as she rode before a freshening breeze that sang through the rigging, cleaving the waters en route the broad, clear reaches of the great Umbari Ocean.

Mari, staggering with weariness, finally felt free to head down to the cabin. The Gray Lady had begun rolling in the choppy seas, which made her progress even more difficult, but Mari refused to ask anyone for help. She knew she was being stubborn, but she was going to get through this day even if it killed her.

Holding onto the cabin door for dear life, Mari made it inside, where the two healers were still with Alain.

She made it to the bunk and sat down on the edge, brushing his forehead with one hand. Alain’s face, relaxed in sleep, looked as young as it had the first time they had met. Her mind, half-delirious with fatigue, generated a powerful vision of that moment, when a panicky Mari had through pure reflexive distrust almost put a bullet into the Mage coming toward her out of the dust clouds. “We’ve certainly come a long way from that caravan in the Waste outside of Ringhmon, haven’t we, my Mage?” she asked.

Someone cleared his throat and Mari, with a guilty start, looked at the healers. “I’m sorry. Is he going to be all right?”

The woman named Cas smiled. “Yes. Probably weak, and he may be in pain when he awakens, not only because of the after-effects of the drug but because of this.” She gently raised Alain’s head to indicate a bandaged area.

“He hit his head?” Mari asked.

“Something hit his head,” Pol corrected. He looked tired, too, but satisfied. “It looks like the sort of injury caused by a sap arrow.”

“A what?”

“A sap arrow,” Pol explained. “A sap is a leather-covered weight that’s used by thieves and kidnappers to knock out their prey. There’s a special arrow for small crossbows that has a sap instead of a point and is fired with less force than a lethal arrow. Only criminals use it. We were told Dark Mages did this?”

“That’s right,” Mari said. “I mean, it looks like the Mage Guild Hall in Julesport hired some Dark Mages to do it.”

“Slime-sucking bottom-dwellers,” Cas muttered angrily. “We’ve dealt with the results of their work before. You’re lucky you found him quickly.”

There was something else important, something that she needed to ask about. What was it? “The drug. Is that going to cause any problems?”

“Doubtful,” Cas replied. “There’s always a little concern that even someone young and strong could be thrown into addiction after only a single dose of a drug like that, but it’s very rare. It usually takes frequent use to develop addiction and create physical problems. Assuming Mages are like other people, I think it more likely he’ll have developed a physical aversion to this drug based on this experience.”

Pol nodded in agreement. “Is he… like other people, Lady? We couldn’t find any differences, but Mages—well, you know.”

Mari almost laughed, but she couldn’t muster the strength. “Alain is like everyone else, and like no one else. He is the most amazing, important…” Her voice faltered. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry. It’s been… a… very… long… day.”

She had the vague sensation of being helped into another bunk, then fell fast asleep, aware only of the smile on her lips. Alain was all right.

Mage Alain awoke to find himself in a bunk aboard a ship that was plainly at sea, rolling as it cut through swells. Alain puzzled over that. He knew he was a Mage, but for the moment nothing else came clear to him. He had no memories of a ship leaving port, or of getting aboard a ship. He had been walking down a street in… Julesport. A group of common soldiers about him? Worrying about… Mari. And—

Mari? Who was—?

For a moment he was surrounded by dust, hearing the crashing of strange weapons, the blood of commons spattering his robes, the caravan destroyed around him, ready to die but walking as if in a dream toward the last wagon where someone might survive, seeing a figure in a dark jacket appear before him—

Mari.

Everything flooded back into him, memories and feelings and emotions that left Alain gasping. A vast emptiness that once had been all he had was suddenly full once more, full because of her, and he felt a sudden rush of worry. What had happened to him? Where was Mari?

He twisted to look, almost wincing at a sudden pain on the back of his head. But he could see the other bunk, and Mari lashed into it so she couldn’t be tossed out by the ship’s motion.

This was the Gray Lady. Mari was safe, a trace of a smile on her face.

Alain sat up cautiously, feeling the back of his head. A bandage. That explained the pain there. But he also felt odd, a roiling of the stomach and an aching of his arms and legs that felt like the after-effects of eating spoiled food.

What had happened? Alain looked at Mari, guessing that she would know, but tracing with his eyes the great weariness that held her deeply asleep. He had seen her like this before, when Mari had pushed herself too far and too long because she thought she must, because others needed her, because she would not leave anyone behind. If he woke her now she would abandon sleep and get back to whatever tasks awaited. He knew that, and so Alain stood cautiously and moved toward the cabin door as quietly as he could.

He stepped outside, slightly dizzy and grateful for the door’s support before he closed it.

“Alain! You’re all right!”

Alain blinked in confusion at the Mechanic standing before him. He knew that face from somewhere. Somewhere cold. “Mechanic Calu? Friend of Mari?”

“That’s me.” Calu studied him, looking worried. “Take it easy. You still look a little beat up.”

“Apparently I have been beat up.” Alain indicated the bandage on the back of his head. “Do you know how?”

“Only what I was told.” Calu helped Alain sit down on a barrel lashed to the front of the cabin. “You got knocked out by some Dark Mages. Mari led a rescue and found you with Mage Asha’s help.”

“How was that possible?” Alain wondered. “I will have to ask Mage Asha. Wait. How did you come to be here? You were in Umburan.”

“Sure was,” Calu agreed. He leaned against the cabin next to Alain, his Mechanics jacket dark against the wood. “But the Mechanics Guild has gotten even more worried about Mari. You remember I got sent to Umburan because the Guild was trying to break up Mari’s old gang? Which wasn’t really a gang, but anyway. The Senior Mechanics have been moving people between Guild Halls a lot more, trying to keep any gangs from forming. That’s how I ended up in Julesport. That’s the official reason, anyway. I suspect the Guild thought Mari might go to Julesport and figured that if I was there she’d try to contact me. They’ve been watching me pretty close, but what they didn’t know was that two of the Mechanics supposedly keeping an eye on me were just as eager to join Mari as I was.”

“Mechanic Alli was worried about you,” Alain said, still gathering his thoughts.

“He needs to be watched or he gets into trouble,” Alli said, coming up and putting one arm around Calu. “How are you doing, Alain? You looked pretty bad when we carried you out of that Dark Mage den. The healers said you might be hurting. Are you in any pain?”

“It is nothing,” Alain said.

“Is everything nothing with you Mages?” Alli asked. “There’s some pain medication you are supposed to take if you need it.”

Alain shook his head. “I do not need it. I have endured far worse pain than this.”

Alli shook her head in turn, then looked at Calu. “Mari has been telling me some things about the training Mages get when they’re—not apprentices… acolytes. It is seriously ugly. Take a look sometime and you’ll see all of the Mages, even Asha, have lots of scars.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me looking at Mage Asha,” Calu said. “Scars? I saw them on you before, Alain, and I thought maybe they were from that fight in the desert or at Dorcastle. I’m really sorry.”

“Why?” Alain asked.

“Because it must have been pretty tough on you, and on the other Mages.”

“Oh.” He still had trouble grasping the way shadows thought, of how they could care for others while also doing things that harmed others. How could someone like Alli see others as real and yet also be able to point a Mechanic weapon at them? Mari could do the same, but he knew it caused her great distress. Perhaps Alli hid her distress the way a Mage would. “We are heading for Tiae?”

“Yes,” Alli said. “Though Calu and I have been talking about something that might alter that a bit. We’ll talk to you when we’ve argued it out. In the meantime, you might want to check out our other new friends.”

He saw some anxiety in her and looked where Alli indicated. Sitting in a circle on the deck were five Mages, not two as he would have expected.

“Mage Asha and Mage Dav have been with them, but otherwise they haven’t interacted with anybody,” Alli added. “Those three act like regular Mages and—well, it’s a little difficult.”

“I will speak with them,” Alain said. “You are worried that they might harm someone?”

“Yeah. Mage Dav says they’re all right, but, uh…”

“I understand.” The reputation of Mages—that they treated others as merely playthings—was well established and, Alain knew, well earned. Why care about the lives and well-being of shadows? But he had learned otherwise and so must these new Mages. Alain stood up carefully, still feeling weak.

Calu immediately offered a steadying hand. “Take it easy. Let us know if you need anything.”

“Mari may be out cold, but we’ve got your back,” Alli said.

It made no sense, did not comport with the wisdom taught to Mages, but Alain felt stronger at that moment. Strong enough to manage a small smile of reassurance and then walk steadily to where the other Mages sat.

Asha looked up as Alain approached, one corner of her mouth twitching slightly in the way of a Mage who had not yet relearned how to smile. She moved aside in the tight circle so that Alain could seat himself next to her.

Alain looked around the tight circle of hooded figures. Mage Asha was next to him, and next to her Mage Dav. Then a male Mage who bore the marks of advanced age, another male Mage not much older than Alain, and a female Mage of middle years. All looked back at him in the way of Mages, barely acknowledging his presence and giving no sign of how they felt about it.

“Mage Alain,” Alain said, introducing himself to the eldest first.

“Mage Hiro,” the old man said.

“Elder Hiro,” Mage Dav corrected.

“No longer.” Mage Hiro’s voice and face gave no clue as to whether he felt regret over that. “I have known the wisdom I was taught is lacking. I seek new wisdom.”

The young man spoke next. “Mage Dimitri. I cannot see all as shadows, yet I have some power. The elders could not explain, but they could punish.”

Then the woman. “Mage Tana. Like Mage Hiro, I have had questions, and no longer will keep silent.”

Mage Hiro gestured slightly at Alain. “Mage Dav says you see one other as real?”

“This is so,” Alain admitted, realizing that his own face and voice were growing as impassive as the other Mages’. He let it happen, knowing it would help them believe his words. “Master Mechanic Mari. She is real.”

“Yet you have power? Show us.”

Mage Asha indicated Alain’s bandage. “He has been injured.”

“I see this,” Hiro said. “I feel how little power there is here. I would know what Mage Alain can do when injured, with little outside himself to draw on.”

It was the sort of test that elders would demand to judge the abilities of younger Mages. Alain nodded once, seeing out of the corner of his eye that Mechanics Alli and Calu were watching the group from a distance. Watching him. Because Mari cared for him, they did also.

It gave him a confidence and a strength that had been lacking. Alain wrapped himself in the spell that granted invisibility, causing the illusion that light itself bent around him. He held it, feeling his strength draining quickly, then finally dropped the spell.

Mage Tana measured Alain with her gaze. “One who could manage that under such conditions is not weak.”

“But he was taken by the Dark Mages,” the young Mage said.

Hiro dismissed the comment with another sharp gesture. “See the bandage. A blow from behind. The smallest illusion can defeat the one thing that is real. The mightiest Mage can be felled by a single rock. You know this.”

“I do not question that wisdom.”

“Has your art changed?” Hiro asked Alain. “Because you see the Mechanic as real?”

“No. The means by which I place a smaller illusion over the greater illusion of the world has not changed. My art has only grown more powerful,” Alain said, drawing some barely visible reaction from the three new Mages.

“She accepts your wisdom?” Mage Tana asked. “This Mari?”

“She does,” Alain said, swinging his hand slightly to include Alli and Calu. “As do other Mechanics who follow her. They do not understand our wisdom, they strive to see how it works and cannot, but unlike their Guild they accept that it is valid.”

“And their tricks?” Hiro said. “The Mechanic toys? You have seen them?”

“They work also,” Alain said.

“This is a conflict,” Tana observed. “Wisdom says the world illusion cannot be changed so by other illusions.”

Alain paused to think, to put into words ideas that he had only slowly been developing. “There is more than one wisdom,” he finally said. “More than one path. The wisdom of Mages does things that of Mechanics cannot. Mari says many Mechanics cannot accept this and so deny it. But the wisdom of Mechanics can do things to the world illusion that the arts of the Mages cannot. I have seen this, and so cannot deny it.”

“There was a heresy,” Mage Hiro said. “Two generations gone. It held that more than one wisdom can coexist, that there were different ways of seeing the world illusion that could produce very different arts. The heresy was suppressed, but if the Mechanic arts can work, it may offer a wisdom that explains it.”

“But to see others as real,” Mage Tana objected. “Can other Mages accept this and still have power?”

Mage Asha spoke. “I have begun to see one other as real. He… does not harm my power. He gives me a new way to see my wisdom.”

“Why did you take this risk?”

“Because I saw Mage Alain and Mechanic Mari, and I knew Mage Alain had not lost in any way. I wanted to share what they had.”

“With them?” Mage Tana pressed. “Do they take you into their sharing?”

“Not in that way,” Asha said. “They share their reality only with each other. But they offer something else to friends.”

“Friends,” Mage Dimitri whispered. “I remember friends.”

“You may remember again,” Mage Dav said. “It is not forbidden among us. Mechanic Mari calls me friend. She saved me from dying where another would have left me.”

“Mechanic Mari,” Mage Hiro said. “I have seen this one, when we came on this ship. You were the Mage who declared her the daughter of the prophecy?” he asked Alain.

“I was the first who saw her so,” Alain said.

“You are not the only. I see her and see the same. If she lives, she has a chance to fulfill the prophecy.”

Alain managed to suppress the fear that statement created inside him. If she lives.

Hiro kept speaking. “There was another. When I was only a boy, barely become an acolyte. A daughter born in the southern lands.”

“I have not heard of this,” Mage Dimitri said.

“You are young,” Hiro said. “And you have not had access to the secrets of the Mage Guild as an elder does. The Guild denies that the prophecy exists even as it hunts those who might fulfill it.”

“What became of that daughter?” Alain asked.

“She died. The records are vague as to who saw her and who betrayed her, but in the end she was alone and slain. Thus did the Mage Guild seek to ensure the prophecy would never come true.”

“Could there have been others?” Mage Asha asked.

“There could have been,” Mage Hiro replied. “It has been long since the prophecy was made, and the Mage Guild has sought to end its threat ever since.”

“The Mechanics Guild does the same,” Alain said. “They sought to kill Master Mechanic Mari even before I met her. They would have succeeded, if not for me.” He did not say it as a boast, but as a statement of what had been, and knew the others would see it that way as well.

“So? This daughter, this shadow, is not alone.” Hiro looked intently at Alain. “She has recognized wisdom and held it close to her. It has saved her, and she has helped you see new wisdom.”

“She has lived because of that,” Alain agreed. “As have I. Alone, I would have died.”

“Alone, both would have died.” Hiro pondered that, his eyes hooded.

“I am thinking,” Mage Dav said, “that this wisdom is an old one, a wisdom forgotten by the Guild. We are taught that only the one is real, that only each of us should matter to each of us. Yet see the strength in Mage Alain, who has survived where older and wiser Mages would not have. He has lived because added to his strength and wisdom is the strength and wisdom of Master Mechanic Mari. Together there is something greater than each can claim alone.”

A flicker of pain flashed across the face of Mage Tana. “I once— There was a time, Mage Dav, when I had a chance at such wisdom.”

“You are not the only,” Mage Hiro said. “Perhaps all who see such a chance realize the faults in the wisdom of the Guild. Perhaps not.”

“We all follow the words of shadows,” Mage Dav said. “For if what the elders of the Mage Guild teach is the only truth, then they are shadows to us. If all wisdom comes from the illusion that surrounds us, how can the sole reality which is me be the only source of wisdom? Is wisdom but the echo of my own thought, or is there something outside to which I must listen?”

The others looked at Mage Dav with visible respect. “We will follow Mage Alain, and Mage Dav, and learn,” Mage Hiro said.

Mage Tana and Mage Dimitri nodded in agreement.

“Master Mechanic Mari requires that all who follow her treat others as real,” Alain cautioned. “You need not attempt to think of them as real, but they cannot be treated as only shadows.”

“It is odd, but not difficult,” Mage Tana observed. “One of discipline can act as they will, not as habit dictates.”

“Just so,” Mage Dav agreed.

“Excuse me, Mage Alain.” Alain turned to see that Mechanic Alli had approached them. She crouched down so that her eyes were on a level with Alain’s. “I’m not sure how long your talk is going to last, and there is something we need your approval on. Yours or Mari’s, and none of us want to wake her up.”

“What is this something?” Alain asked, aware of how the other Mages were observing without giving outward signs of doing so.

“Calu says the day before we got into Julesport, a Mechanics Guild ship left carrying a lot of Mechanics. It’s a three-masted ship, the Pride of Longfalls. They were headed for Edinton. But it’s being used as a prison ship, collecting and transporting Mechanics to exile. Most of the Mechanics aboard are the sort of people who would likely join with Mari.”

Alain considered that. “Mari needs more Mechanic followers?”

“Yes,” Alli said. “We’re going to Tiae to fix the Broken Kingdom, right? That’s not going to be easy, even if we find enough common soldiers to deal with the warlords and bandits that have made Tiae a living nightmare. A lot of stuff needs to be done by people. Hands-on work to build things, and Mechanics know how to do that. The more Mechanics we have with us, the more we can get done and the faster we can do it. So if we can overtake that ship, the Pride, and free those Mechanics, it might help a lot.”

“We would have to defeat the guards,” Alain said. “Capture the ship.”

“Right. It’s not risk-free. But the captain of the Gray Lady says the Pride is, uh, square-rigged, and will have to tack back and forth a lot in these winds to head for Edinton. The Lady is square-rigged and fore-and-aft rigged, so she can sail a lot straighter, which means we could probably overtake the Pride in a couple of days.”

“I do not know what square means,” Alain said. “But the captain of the Gray Lady has his own wisdom. I have not seen him err in matters of the sea. If we seek to find the Mechanic ship Pride, does it force us to fight that ship?”

Alli shook her head. “No. It will just put us in a position to do something if Mari decides to. But the captain doesn’t want to alter course to do that unless Mari says so, or unless you say Mari would be all right with it.”

“Tell the captain that Mage Alain agrees with the wisdom of what you wish to do,” Alain said.

“Great. Thanks.” Alli straightened with a grin that changed to an uncertain look as she nodded to the other Mages and walked aft again.

Mage Tana spoke softly. “The Mechanic spoke to you as an elder. She sought your approval and accepted your authority.”

“Mechanic Alli helped save Mage Alain from the Dark Mages,” Mage Asha said. “She is… different, but she has a wisdom of her own. She will return in kind whatever is given her.”

“Given?” Tana puzzled over that. “There is much to think on.”

Alain spent much of the day regaining his strength and thinking, sitting on deck with his back against the door to the cabin where Mari still slept the sleep of exhaustion. While the Mechanics he could see and hear were clearly happy, and the other Mages remained in deep discussion or meditation, Alain’s thoughts were dark.

If she lives.

There was another… she died.

He remembered Mari’s face when he told her that she was the daughter. What had she said? Something about her life being worth only dust because of all those who would want the daughter dead. He had felt awful then, but mainly because of how his words had distressed Mari. He had not wanted to think too much about the fact that her words were also true.

But it was getting difficult to ignore. Mari’s dreams were often troubled now, and when she would speak of them she would talk of assassins and death stalking her and her friends. How much comfort could he offer when those dreams were not fantasies but a reflection of the dangers Mari and her friends actually faced?

He could change small parts of the world illusion for short times, but he could not change that.

“Are you all right?”

Alain looked up to see Mechanic Bev nearby. He had long been able to tell that Bev held some secret inside, some pain that she would not share with others. But now she stood eyeing him with concern.

“I am… all right,” Alain said.

“You know,” she said, “there are a lot of jokes about how much Mages lie, but I never actually caught one at it before. What is it? Is Mari all right?”

“Mari is well. Just tired. And worried.”

“Do you mind?” Bev sat down beside him, looking out across the deck. “Mari spends most of her time worrying about the rest of us, and you, and how she’s supposed to make this prophecy come true before the world blows up. Every once in a while she stops to think about what might happen to her personally and she gets really scared. I can see it. I don’t blame her. I couldn’t handle it if it was me. But she’s got you. So it worries me a bit when I see you looking scared.”

“You saw—?”

“I could tell. I doubt anyone else could. Maybe another one of you Mages.” Bev sighed. “It’s easy to be scared. To be so scared you don’t know how to face it. I know. But you have to keep going.”

“I know this,” Alain said. “Sometimes it is hard.”

“Sometimes it is very hard,” Bev said. “You need to be honest with Mari when it is. She thinks you’re built of the finest steel alloy and can’t crack. But nobody is that strong.”

“You are right,” Alain said. “Nobody can stand alone.”

“Nobody,” Bev whispered. “Here I am giving you good advice that I can’t follow myself. There’s something I can’t talk about to people. Not even Mari. But maybe I really sat down here because I have to say something to somebody. I’ve heard about the kind of hell you went through when you were an acolyte. So maybe you’d understand.”

Alain simply nodded, waiting.

“The Senior Mechanics run the Mechanics Guild,” Bev said in a very low voice, her eyes on the deck now. “They make the rules and they’re supposed to enforce the rules. Maybe you’ve already heard how much they abuse that power. At the Guild Hall in Emdin where I was an apprentice…” She paused for a long moment. “They lost control of themselves. Completely lost control. They started—”

Bev paused again, swallowing. “It was physical, you know? Not just beatings. I could handle that. Other stuff. And being told it was our duty as apprentices to do everything we were told, to keep quiet about it, to just submit.”

“They did this not to teach, but to harm?” Alain asked.

“Oh, they were teaching us stuff,” Bev said. “Stuff about how little we mattered, how we were just toys for them, how the people in charge could do anything they wanted and we had to go along with it.”

“Mechanic Alli said something about Emdin.”

“Yeah. Rumors got out eventually, and then three apprentices committed suicide. Not one by one but all at once. That got the attention of the Guild Headquarters at Palandur, which had somehow avoided seeing anything before that. They had to do something, and there are some Senior Mechanics who aren’t monsters. They pushed for an investigation.”

Alain waited.

“So,” Bev continued, her eyes still on the deck, “investigators came and talked to us and heard everything. And then some of the Senior Mechanics at Emdin were sent to other Guild Halls, and some of the apprentices were sent to other Guild Halls, and all of us were sworn to secrecy and told that if we ever said anything then every single detail would come out and we wouldn’t want that, would we? For everyone to know everything that had been done to us?”

“There was no punishment of the elders, of the Senior Mechanics?” said Alain.

“No. For the good of the Guild. Had to keep it quiet. What would the Mage Guild have done? Does that sort of thing happen there?”

Alain shook his head. “No. Not the same. The elders and the Mages who teach acolytes would beat us. They would inflict harm, and withhold food and water, and leave us to stand freezing in the winter. To enable us to ignore the world illusion, you see. It had a purpose. Sometimes an elder or a Mage would be… too enthusiastic. They would beat and harm in ways that could cause permanent damage. That was not allowed, and they would be sent away, not allowed to teach anymore.”

“But what about other stuff? Did acolytes ever get abused?”

“It is different,” Alain said, trying to find the words to explain. “Mages are taught that physical relations do not matter except that they are distractions from wisdom. They should be satisfied as quickly and efficiently as possible. And then move on and focus once again on the wisdom that says others do not matter.”

“There’s no power in it,” Bev said. “Your elders and Mages couldn’t get any thrills out of that kind of power trip, could they? Because I knew it was about power, mostly. Some of them hurt you in ways that did satisfy their power thrills, but abusing you wasn’t one of them because you were all being taught it didn’t matter. Did thinking that way make you happy?”

Alain shook his head again. “Happy did not exist. Happy was an illusion. After enough time, we all believed that.”

“They stole something else from you,” Bev whispered.

“What they stole, I was able to find again,” Alain said. “I wish… I wish I could change the illusion so that you had not been hurt. Mari reminded me that the shadows around me feel pain just as I do. But there is so little I can do to stop that pain. It is easier to think of them just as shadows. But Mari never does the easy thing.”

“And she won’t let you, either, huh?” Bev blew out a long breath. “Thanks for wanting to make it go away, but it never will. Do you hate the elders who hurt you?”

“No. They could not make me into what they desired. They failed. I feel… contempt? I do not care about them. They are as nothing, even as other shadows become something.” Alain shrugged. “That is what I tell myself. Mage Asha suffered worse than I did. I used to wonder at how strong in wisdom she was. But she rarely talks of those times.”

“That’s easy for me to understand. You know, I worried that you could tell about me. That being a Mage could let you see something.” Bev shut her eyes tightly. “I worry that everyone can look at me and tell, but Mages mostly.”

“I saw nothing except pain,” Alain said. “No Mage could see more than that, and no Mage would guess the cause.”

“Mages lie all the time,” Bev said. “Why do I believe you?”

“Mari would not like it if I caused you more hurt, and I would not like it if I caused you more hurt.”

“Um… thanks. Don’t tell Mari any of this, all right? Except, tell her I’m all right when it comes to doing things. I won’t lose it, I won’t go crazy, I won’t let her down. She can count on that.” Bev paused. “So can you. Thanks, Mage Alain. Just for listening. I had to tell somebody.”

Alain felt a helpless sensation. “I can do nothing, though.”

“You listened. You didn’t judge. You won’t tell others. That’s more than I could ask of anyone else. Thanks.” Bev got up, nodded at him, then walked off slowly.

Alain got up as well, opened the door to the cabin very quietly, and walked inside.

Mari was still deeply asleep, snoring lightly. He sat down on the other bunk, watching her, remembering that she had asked whether she snored while they waited to enter Marandur. They had survived Marandur. Perhaps—

And in that moment, his foresight came upon him again.

Overlaid on his sight of Mari was a vision of her. In the vision, Mari was also lying down, but on a surface of dressed stone blocks, the sort that made up stout outdoor structures. Her face and mouth were slack, not with tiredness, but with the shadow of death upon them, a shadow hovering very near, and something red and wet stained her dark Mechanics jacket.

As Alain stared, horrified, the vision faded. Mari was sleeping, her expression untroubled for the moment.

But he could not forget what he had seen.

And he had not been in that vision. If he had been, it would have meant the vision was of something that might happen. But he had seen Mari only.

Which meant this was something that would happen.