Mari felt a smile forming, her fears receding into the background to be replaced by relief at seeing him. “Are you all right? Last night you didn’t think you had been hurt by the fall, but I was worried.”
“I was exhausted from my spells and stunned when I hit the ground,” Alain said. “But other than some bruises I took no harm. I know you had much to do with that.”
“Well, yeah,” Mari admitted, feeling self-conscious. “I also had much to do with you getting into that mess in the first place. Did you get in trouble with your elders?”
“Yes,” Mage Alain said without feeling. “I got in trouble. I was asked to explain my actions. I provided various reasons consistent with Mage wisdom, but the elders did not accept them.”
“I guess you couldn’t say that you were my friend,” Mari said.
“No. I eventually admitted that I had followed you to spy upon you.”
“You…what?”
Was there humor showing in the Mage’s eyes? “That is what I told them. There is no truth, so one story was as good as another. The elders were willing to accept that I was motivated by a desire to learn more about a possible threat to the Mage Guild.”
Mari felt herself smiling widely. Being able to lie with a clean conscience probably had its advantages. I really like the guy hidden inside him. That good person I keep getting glimpses of. I think I’d like him even if he hadn’t saved me at least twice. “What did you find out while you were spying on me?”
“Not to start fires inside buildings unless I am already near a window.” He waited while Mari winced. “Otherwise I could tell them little, since I explained I often could not understand your words or actions.”
“Yeah,” Mari said. “A lot of people have that problem with me, and to be perfectly honest I’m having a little trouble figuring them out myself right now. Look, I’ve got some issues I need to work out with my Guild. I don’t know exactly what’s going on. Anyway, there’s no sense in you getting in more trouble with your Guild, too. Hanging with me isn’t doing you any good, and might get you in trouble.”
“But you are a friend.” His voice remained impassive, his face unrevealing. “You also saved my life, carrying me to the window. How did you create the strength to do that? It was an impressive manipulation of the illusion.”
Mari shrugged and looked down, feeling the heat of embarrassment in her face. “I have no idea how I did that. I guess I was highly motivated. I wasn’t going to leave you behind, not after you got me out of that cell.”
“You never leave anyone behind,” Alain recited as if it were a lesson.
“No. I don’t.”
The Mage’s mouth worked, then he spoke hesitantly. “Thank…you.”
They had been walking, but now Mari stumbled to a halt, staring at him. What had it taken for a Mage to say those words? She had heard him say them before, but only repeating her own words back to her. He hadn’t actually said thank you to anyone, to her. But now he had. Say something to him, you fool. Anything. “You’re thanking me for throwing you out a window?”
“Yes, if you wish to say it that way, using your sarcasm.” Mage Alain twisted his face slightly. “I am uncertain about the right things to say. As an acolyte, the use of those words would bring punishment.”
You poor— “Well, uh, that’s…I mean…I’m really glad…you’re…all right.”
“A friend wants to help,” Mage Alain said. “Because it is the right thing,” he added, quoting her.
“Uh…yeah…that’s…right.” He had paid that much attention to what she said? And he really liked her? Or whatever Mages used in place of “like,” anyway. He had saved her life, he had gone into a dungeon to get her out, he had listened to her. He had that thread thing between them that wasn’t there but was.
He hadn’t left her when that would have been the easiest, most acceptable thing to do. Instead, he had taken the hardest road he could, because he wanted to help her.
Mari stared at Alain, wondering why she was suddenly having so much trouble talking, why she couldn’t seem to string two words together without fumbling, why she felt so awkward, why she couldn’t take her eyes off of Alain’s expressionless face and his firm jaw and his soulful eyes—
Soulful eyes?
Oh, no, Mari. No no no no no no no. You are not going there. That is so crazy it’s off the scale. He’s a Mage. You’re a Mechanic. Yes, he’s damaged, and yes, it would be oh-so-romantic to try to fix him, but that is not the sort of repair job any rational woman would undertake, and it is certainly not the sort of job you should even be considering. He doesn’t even know what love is. He doesn’t know what like is. He has only the vaguest idea what a friend is.
You told him it wasn’t love. You told him not to think about love. That was smart. You’re smart, Mari. You won’t get involved with some badly damaged guy who thinks nothing is real just because he’s more real than any other guy you’ve ever met. You will…you will…
I felt safe when he showed up here.
Why is he looking at me? He’s waiting for something. Did he ask me a question? Oh, right. “Where am I going? Uh…I’m…uh…I…Dorcastle. I…I’m going to…Dorcastle.” Stars above, help me, I sound like I’m six years old.
But Alain didn’t show any sign that he had noticed her discomfort, even though he must have. “I also must go to Dorcastle. My elders insist that I leave this city.”
“Oh…um…good. Are you…taking…the train?”
“Train?” Alain asked.
“Yes.” She pointed in the direction of the yard. “Train.”
“This is like a caravan?”
“No…yes. I mean, it takes people, but…faster. Much faster.” She took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. “Mages never use trains, but if you are wearing that—those clothes—you could ride it.”
Alain considered that. “How would I do this?”
“It’s easy.” So easy a Mage could do it. I have to stop using that expression. “You…you go…there. That way. There’s a…a sign. Train Station. You can read? Sorry. Of course you can read. And there’s another sign. Passengers. I can…get you a ticket. You go to…to that window…and you say, ‘will call ticket for Alain of Ihris.’ Don’t…please don’t…say the Mage part. You’re not wearing those robes so…no one will know you’re a Mage.” Unless they look at your face. “And…and they’ll give you a ticket. That’s a piece of paper with writing on it. And…you follow the other passengers…and the train takes you to…to Dorcastle.” She wanted to bury her face in her hands out of sheer embarrassment. Please, please, let this end.
“Is there something wrong?” Alain asked. “You are distressed.”
“No. Nothing. Nothing at all. Do not, do not, tell anyone that you’re a Mage. Some of my fellow Mechanics might…do the wrong thing. But I…I have to go. Myself.” What had happened to her? An awful suspicion occurred to Mari as she looked at the Mage. She had never believed the stories about Mage spells, but look what he had done last night. Maybe some of the other stories were true, about the ability of Mages to make people act in strange ways. “Alain…tell me the truth.”
“There is no truth.”
“Try anyway! Would you…would you do anything to me…without me knowing?”
The Mage looked at her silently for a while.
Stars above. There’s hurt in his eyes. I can see it way back there, almost completely hidden, but I hurt him with that question. I hurt the feelings of a Mage. They don’t even have feelings, but I hurt them. Way to achieve the impossible, Mari.
Finally, Alain shook his head. “I would not do anything like that.”
Could she believe him?
But as if sensing the question, Alain added more. “There is no truth, but I will not mislead you. A friend would not mislead.”
“Thank you.” Mari tried to gather up the shattered shards of her dignity. “I’m sorry. I really have to go. Um…thank you. Thank you for everything. Goodbye.” Forever. Absolutel
* * * *
Leaving the Mage Guild Hall was the work of a moment, informing the acolyte at the door that he would not be returning, but would be heading for Dorcastle as instructed by the elders. Alain suspected those elders, who had regarded him with ill-concealed suspicion at a second Inquiry this morning, would be grateful enough for his departure not to worry about how he was leaving. No one had ever told him specifically that Mechanic “trains” were off limits to Mages, and asking permission seemed a needless complication, so he did not bother about that. Alain had brought no baggage from the ruin of the caravan, and Mages had few possessions in any event. He had acquired a small bag to hold his robes hidden, and now walked toward the Mechanic place which Mari had told him to look for. The common clothes he wore still felt very odd, but he would grow used to them.
Following some commons, Alain carried his bag inside the Mechanic station, looking around and absorbing the noises, smells and vapors that swirled through the station. Some of those noises and smells always seemed to go with Mechanics and their doings. Sharp bangs and sudden, loud crashing sounds. The tang of things heated too hot, overlaid by something like rancid cooking oil left too long on a fire. Metal grinding against metal. What purpose did such things serve?
Not long ago he would not have come this far, avoiding anything with the taint of Mechanics about it. But he could still sense the thread. Mechanic Mari was here, and she would not have sent him into danger.
The window was not hard to find, and when Alain gave his name a boy who must be a Mechanic acolyte shoved a piece of paper forward without even looking at Alain. Mechanics must also teach their acolytes to ignore others. Alain took the paper and followed commons again. They walked to a series of identical, long, narrow buildings next to a platform. The sides of each of the buildings were lined with windows. At the very end of the line stood a building which appeared grander than the others, and had some of the Mechanic acolytes standing as if guarding it. Alain guessed that one would be for the Mechanics themselves. In front of the windowed buildings were a number of similarly shaped buildings with no windows, but rather large doors through which boxes and other objects were being brought inside.
It all seemed incomprehensible, but the commons ahead of Alain walked into the nearest building and he followed, finding the single room inside filled with benches along each side and an aisle down the middle. Seating himself as the commons did, Alain waited, wondering what to do.
Alain could wait. He gazed out of the window impassively as the room gradually filled with commons, taking many of the seats, some of them giving him curious looks. Someone might have said something to him, but he ignored them, and they went away.
He heard a rumbling sound, felt vibrations, then a sudden shock rocked the building he was in. None of the commons appeared alarmed, and Alain of course hid his own reaction, but he had more trouble remaining impassive when the building slid backwards a bit, then forwards, with its own rumbling vibration.
Very odd. Then he saw one of the buildings being rolled by on a nearby set of metal lines and realized the buildings had wheels on them. Clever. They were wagons, not buildings, linked together into a single long caravan. But what kind of creature could pull so many?
Up ahead, somewhere past the wagons which carried boxes, Alain heard a deafening, wild screech, as if a huge creature had been stricken. Once again, he barely kept from showing any reaction. Mechanics were shouting orders, then with a lurch the wagons surged into motion.
Mechanic Mari had said she would be on this train as well. Alain wondered whether she would be in the last car with the Mechanics. But the thread led forward, not back. Mari was up front, perhaps near the beast that pulled this strange Mechanic caravan.
The train kept going faster and faster, the outlying buildings of Ringhmon whipping by quicker than a galloping horse could manage. Alain stared out the window, remembering how Mechanic Mari had looked when he had walked into her cell through the hole he had imagined in the wall. He suspected she had felt then as he did now, astonished at something which should not have been possible, according to what he had been taught. What he had been taught instead was to pay no attention to the works of Mechanics, not even to look upon them. Tricks deserved no attention, required no attention.
This was not a trick. He had been trained to see through illusions, and this was a very good one. How did the Mechanics do this?
In the sky above, Alain noticed a trail of smoke which appeared to come from the front of the train. Whatever was pulling all of these wagons, whatever had screamed, must also be producing the smoke. A dragon? A troll? No, neither created smoke, nor could a troll move fast.
But the Mechanics had made something, using their own arts, just as Mages could create creatures. What would Mage Guild elders say if Alain asked about this? They would tell me I was fooled, being young. They would accuse me of having strayed from wisdom, of having been overcome by the illusions of the Mechanics.
They would ask me why I chose to ride what Mari called a train.
I will stay silent on this while I try to learn why my Guild is so much in error when it comes to Mechanics.
The wheels of the wagons clicked in a rhythmic way as the train rolled along, the wagons swaying back and forth slightly. The gentle motion brought back memories of long ago, before he had been taken by the Guild. Being gently rocked, a soft voice singing.
Alain focused tightly on his training, unwilling to give in to that memory. It lay behind a locked door in his mind, and somehow he knew that if he opened that door it would bring more buried emotion than his training could deal with.
The seat was far from comfortable, with cushions as thin as those in the dungeon of Ringhmon, but Mages were taught to disregard physical discomfort. He fell asleep watching the land roll past, the accumulated fatigue of the last several days catching up with him, only to awaken when the train slowed to a halt. Outside, low vegetation and an occasional tree could be seen, but no sign of the ocean. This was not Dorcastle.
“They’re feeding the Mechanic engine,” he heard one of the commons say to another. “Water and that liquid like lamp oil they make that burns really well.”
The Mechanic creature ate and drank. Interesting. He could feel no drain on power in the area as the Mechanic train moved, so the Mechanic creature did not draw on that as a Mage spell would. The creature must rely on the aid of power provided in another form.
Alain fell asleep again after the train began moving once more. He woke as the Mechanic train finished skirting the rugged mountains which blocked access to Ringhmon from the western side and turned west toward Dorcastle. The air took on the bracing scent of salt water, and before long Alain could spot the lowering sun glittering on the surface of the Sea of Bakre. The wide coastal marshes he could see soon gave way to rocks on which waves beat unceasingly.
He had never seen that sea until recently, when he had ridden a ship south to find employment far from Ihris. Alain watched it, thinking of his time with the Mechanic. Thinking of Mari. So many changes, so many challenges to the wisdom he had been taught. Yet his foresight had not warned him of her. If she were a danger, if she were leading him astray from wisdom, such a warning would surely have come or would come.
He thought again about the vision involving Mari. A second sun, and a terrible storm that threatened it, and perhaps more. What could that mean?
Had the vision regarding Mari come to him for the same reason the thread had appeared? Did being a friend have something to do with it? Or was it simply because of Mari herself? Alain recalled Mari’s own warnings that other Mechanics were likely a danger to him, and wondered what would have happened if there had been another Mechanic traveling with the destroyed caravan. Would any other Mechanic have done what Mari did, forcing their alliance and thereby saving them both?
Friend. He remembered more now. Asha would have been a friend. He felt sure of that from the brief time before the elders had taught acolytes to avoid even mentioning such things. What would that have been like? Not like being a friend with Mechanic Mari. But it had not happened, it could not happen. If Asha was not already a Mage, she surely would be one soon. The biggest thing holding her back was the natural beauty that no amount of neglect could diminish and which created deep suspicion among elders. But she felt nothing, just as he felt nothing.
Those memories roused something inside him that Alain did not understand but wanted to avoid. He tried to concentrate on Mari again. That was not too hard.
She had acted oddly when last they met. He had wondered if she would greet him here. But she had never said “we” would travel on this Mechanic caravan. She had spoken of them being separate once again. Had Mechanic Mari developed second thoughts about being a friend? They had been thrown together twice, but each time she had needed him as he had needed her. Now, neither needed the other.
Surely friend meant more than that.
The way she had looked at him before parting in Ringhmon…what did that mean? He could not sort out the emotions he had seen in her. But her eyes had been wide as she looked at him and…and…
Those thoughts were disturbing, too.
As long as light lasted, he watched as the Mechanic caravan climbed ever higher along the steep cliffs which marked the southern shore of the Sea of Bakre. Inland from the cliffs were even higher mountains, forming barriers so rugged to travel that they were almost impassable. There were no lights within the caravan, at least not this part of it, but the moonlight shone brightly. Alain could easily see the moon and the smaller twins that forever chased it across the night sky. At last, even the spectacular view could not overcome the tempo of the clicking wheels, and Alain fell asleep again, thinking that this Mechanic way of travel was indeed superior to anything commons offered. The Mage Guild had its own means, of course, faster than this Mechanic device.
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