“The Mechanics are clever,” the jeweler said. “They limit what we have and what we know so we can’t make more of these.”
“But we could,” Jules said. “If we knew those things. It doesn’t require some special skill we lack.”
“I think that’s true.”
“What about how the Mechanics do their tests?” the smith said. “Every child takes those tests in school. And they find some who they take to train. There must be some special talent.”
“They’re people,” Jules insisted. “Just like us.”
“Sure,” the smith said. “People just like us who can make things we can’t. And who, if they catch us trying to duplicate their work, will kill us.”
* * *
The smuggler had taken the artisans back to Caer Lyn, its sails dipping below the horizon, as the Sun Queen started south again. But that journey had barely begun when one of the metal Mechanic ships came into view.
The Mechanic ship circled the Sun Queen as if the sailing ship were standing still, before matching speed and coming close on the Queen’s port side. Mak had sent Jules below deck when the Mechanic ship approached, but as it hung menacingly nearby he called her up on deck again.
Some Mechanics held objects to their eyes, looking at Jules as she stood by the rail, the revolver in its holster on her hip. Those must be the far-seers Mak had spoken of. She stood, waiting, until one of the Mechanics hefted something and threw it across the gap between the ships. It landed with a thud, turning out to be a dispatch case tied to a strangely-shaped piece of metal with a crack running partway through it.
“Something broke, so they used it as a weight,” Ang speculated as he brought the dispatch case to Mak.
He opened it, then passed the note inside to Jules. “It’s addressed to you.”
“Some Mechanics finally remembered my name?” She looked at it. “They want me to meet someone in Jacksport. Three days from now. There’s instructions for the place I’m supposed to go in town. That’s strange—why not their ship or near that Mechanics Guild Hall I hear they’re laying out the foundation for?”
Turning, Jules waved to the Mechanics, indicating her receipt of the message.
The Mechanics didn’t bother waving back. They went inside the ship, and soon afterwards it accelerated more quickly than the Sun Queen could have, racing away to the west.
“They must know how hazardous Jacksport is for you,” Mak said.
“It wasn’t an invitation,” Jules said. “It’s an order. They don’t care how hazardous it is for me.”
“But they did at one time,” he said. “Now they’re risking you in a town where we know Mages are present.”
“Sir, what else can I do?”
“Not go,” Mak said.
“But if I do that, if I cut and run without knowing what they intend, I won’t know what they’re planning.” Jules tapped the revolver at her hip. “And hopefully they’ll give me some more cartridges for this. I only have three left.”
“I still don’t like it,” Mak said. “Jules, what’s our plan if it all goes to blazes?”
“Run?” Jules said. “What else could we do?”
Mak hesitated, looking out to sea. “The Storm Queen should be around here somewhere. The last I heard, Captain Lars was going to try to operate near the Sharr Isles for a while. We need to meet up with that sloop of war.”
“Why?”
“Because they owe you. And we need them. If you have to run, you won’t be able to come back here. The Mechanics won’t let us out of the harbor. You need another ship.”
“But the Storm Queen can’t outrun the Mechanic ships,” Jules objected. “She’d get caught before she could get away, too.”
“Not if she’s not in the harbor. Come on.” Jules followed Mak to his cabin, where he unfurled a chart. “Look here. See this small bay? It’s a little way north and east of Jacksport on the island, only a few thousand lances. If you have to run, the Mechanics—or the Mages—will expect you to head for the harbor. But if we have the Storm Queen waiting over in this small bay, you can turn inland instead. Nobody will expect that. Head for the bay, and the Storm Queen can pick you up. Even if the water in the bay is shallow, the Storm Queen has a smaller draft and can send in a boat.”
Jules looked at the chart. “It doesn’t look like too rough a journey from Jacksport to that bay. And it’s not too far. There aren’t any cliffs behind Jacksport, are there? Higher ground but no cliffs. So it won’t be like that last time when I was stuck in a strip of land near the beach. I can move inland and be hidden by the trees. Even if someone is chasing me, I should be able to stay ahead of them until I reach that bay.”
“All we have to do is find the Storm Queen,” Mak said. “And hope we won’t need her services.”
Jules heard the foreboding in Mak’s voice and knew he didn’t believe his own hopes. “I’ll be all right.”
* * *
Three days later, she was back in Jacksport. They had successfully rendezvoused with the Storm Queen, Captain Lars agreeing to wait in the small bay to the northeast.
She hadn’t walked this street since the night the prophecy was made. Jules had on a long, light coat that went down to her knees, concealing the revolver at her hip. She wore a broad-brimmed hat against the sun, pulled down low to hide her face. The collar of the coat also helped conceal her, hopefully enough—along with a different braiding of her hair—to render her hard to recognize.
There weren’t any Imperial ships in port, for which Jules was grateful. At least she wouldn’t have to worry too much about running into Imperial soldiers or sailors, though she had to assume there were spies in Imperial pay everywhere. With any luck she wouldn’t be recognized by them, either.
A metal Mechanic ship was tied up, though, its presence dominating the waterfront. Jules studied it as well as she could without being noticed. Outwardly, it looked identical to the other Mechanic warships she’d seen. Was that done to make it hard for commons to track what the Mechanics were doing? There were still those who argued over whether the Mechanics had five of the metal ships, or only three. Most agreed on four, but keeping track of them was difficult. This might be the ship she’d been taken to, or a totally different one.
Jacksport’s waterfront was crowded with men and women, as well as children, attending to morning business. In the light of day it felt respectable. The population of a solid and fast-growing community. It was only by looking beneath that outer appearance at the shuttered bars and taverns waiting for their night trade that the illusion of respectability was shattered.
So many people on the streets offered her good cover. She moved among them to keep from being spotted. Her greatest fear, encountering a Mage, didn’t materialize. Jules caught an occasional glimpse of Mage robes on the street, altering her path to avoid coming close to them. That didn’t attract any special notice. Every common person did that around Mages. And the Mages gave no sign that they knew she was anything other than an average common.
She passed a place where a building must have once stood, only charred wood remaining, the wreckage old enough that it must have burnt down some time ago, but no sign that any clearing of it had ever taken place. Why had it been left like this in the center of a street facing the harbor? The building had probably held a tavern like the other buildings all along this stretch, and it occupied a valuable spot where one could be rebuilt. Yet everyone else on the street was carefully avoiding even looking toward it. As if they were afraid to be seen taking interest in that place?
A tavern. Burnt down a while back. Left untouched.
Jules tried to keep her breathing steady and her expression calm as she realized what must have stood there. The tavern where she’d come face to face with the Mage and the prophecy had been spoken. Someone, probably the Mages, had set the tavern afire. Someone, maybe one of the Great Guilds, maybe both, had made it clear that nothing else had better be built there for common people to gather at and talk about what ha
d happened on that spot. That no one should mark the place in any way, or even appear to take note of it.
If she hadn’t run as quickly as she had, her charred bones would probably be resting under that pile of burned wreckage.
Jules walked on, trying to appear not to have noticed the ruin.
The instructions for the meeting took Jules a little farther down the street, down a side path, and into an open area perhaps three lances long by two lances wide behind a bar that was just opening for the lunch trade. Scattered tables and chairs spoke of outdoor seating for busy nights when weather permitted. Jules walked to the center of the area, looking around, feeling exposed. Where were the Mechanics she was supposed to meet?
The door in the back of the bar opened. Jules saw two figures in Mechanic jackets and headed that way as they gestured to her.
They stood back as she walked into the back room, which had no lights. With the windows covered, the room darkened as the door closed. But Jules heard a metallic click and a bright, steady light appeared from a squat tube held by one of the Mechanics. The male Mechanic waited as the female Mechanic put the tube on a small, four-legged table in the center of the room, the light shining up to the ceiling to illuminate the room. In that light, Jules saw that aside from the door in the back wall and the two covered windows, the only other exit from the room was a door in the front wall facing the interior of the bar.
Jules looked at them, initially pleased to see that the man was Mechanic Hal, but then surprised with renewed worry to see that the woman was Mechanic Gin, not the Mechanic Gayl who’d been with Hal in Sandurin. And Gin bore no trace of welcome in her eyes. If she had ever felt any good will toward Jules, it had vanished. “Good morning, Sir Mechanic,” Jules said. “Lady Mechanic.”
He nodded in reply. Gin just looked at her.
This didn’t feel good. Tension seemed to be a fourth presence in this room. Both Mechanics had revolvers in holsters.
Hal finally moved again, dropping eight cartridges on the table. Jules picked them up and placed them in a pocket of her trousers, wondering why Mechanics always avoided handing her the cartridges directly, as if reluctant to touch her.
“Eight?” Jules asked.
“That’s doesn’t mean the Guild is happy,” Mechanic Hal said. “That’s very likely the last you’ll see of ammunition.”
“Have I failed in what the Guild wanted me to do, Sir Mechanic?”
Hal shook his head. “The problem is the opposite one. You’ve been too good at it. The Emperor is so angry, the Guild is worried he might try to get away with directly defying us. And the Mages have made it clear they’ll regard further killings of their own by you as an attack by the Mechanics Guild. Officially, you stole that revolver, but that story has been harder to make stick as you don’t run out of ammunition for it. So, no more after today.”
“That’s why we’re meeting you like this,” Mechanic Gin said, her voice as hard as her expression. “No more public meetings. No more declarations on your part that the Mechanics Guild is some sort of supporter of your actions.”
Jules looked from Gin to Hal. “Do you want me to stop doing anything?”
The pause that answered her didn’t feel good at all.
Hal finally answered. “I’m going to be honest with you…Jules, right? Yes. The Guild is reconsidering everything. Including whether they want you running around freely.”
“You are not authorized to tell her that!” Gin said angrily.
“She deserves to know,” Hal insisted. “She’s been doing the Guild’s bidding.”
“ ‘Deserves’? She’s a common! Do you think a horse deserves to know where it’s taking you when you go for a ride?” Gin fixed her gaze on Jules again. “Since we’re being honest, the Guild’s not happy with this whole prophecy thing. The Mages are still acting as if they believe every word of it, which gives it validity in the eyes of the commons. The commons are paying a lot of attention to what you do, and every petty triumph by the great pirate is making them believe in this garbage more than they did before. Which is making problems for us. You’re making problems for us. Shutting down the whole thing might have some short-term costs, but in the long run it’ll keep the commons compliant.”
Jules stood silently, not trusting herself to speak.
In terms of her own safety, shutting the whole thing down sounded very, very bad. It looked very much as if this game was heading for a final result.
“Did you get that?” Mechanic Hal asked her.
“Why are you asking her that?” Mechanic Gin demanded. “Haven’t you figured her out yet? She plays dumb, like some typical common without a clue about anything. But she’s smarter than that! Look what’s she’s gotten away with. She’s dangerous.”
“I admit she’s not stupid,” Hal began.
“Look how closely she’s listening to us while pretending to be a nice, obedient common!” Gin shook her head at Jules, one hand straying toward her own revolver. “We should just get rid of her now. No more risks.”
“Gin, we’re not authorized to do that! The Guild hasn’t made a final decision yet.”
“Oh, now you’re worried about whether or not something is authorized.” Mechanic Gin glared at Jules. “You’re a liability. At one time, the Guild thought you were an asset. But now you’re just stirring up the commons.”
Jules had been listening, trying to stay calm and quiet, but at those words something finally snapped inside her. “How can you be so stupid?” she asked.
The two Mechanics stared at her in disbelief. “What did you say?” Gin demanded.
“You heard me,” Jules said. “What, didn’t you understand? I asked why you were so stupid. You claim to be so much smarter than us, but you don’t have any idea who commons are. You think that without someone stirring them up, the commons would be happy and obedient little slaves for you. Listen up! We hate you. If every Mechanic died a horrible death tomorrow the celebrations would rock the entire world. And if we could kill every Mechanic tomorrow we would.
“We hate the Mages, too. But they’re monsters. Made inhuman by whatever makes them Mages. We know that, so we understand when they act like monsters. But you! We can see that Mechanics are men and women like we are, yet you treat us like livestock. Wake up. The commons will never be quiet. We will never accept being slaves to the Great Guilds.”
Silence fell as Jules stopped talking. Both Mechanics seemed too stunned by her words to speak.
Mechanic Gin recovered first, outrage running through her voice like a deadly wind off the waste. “That mouth of yours is going to get you killed, common. Orders or not, one more disrespectful word, and you’re dead.”
Jules smiled. “I know my mouth will get me killed someday. I also know that before I die I’m going to take down a lot of my enemies with me.”
The threat hung in the air between her and the Mechanics for another moment.
“That’s it! She’s dead!” Mechanic Gin said, reaching for her revolver.
Chapter Fifteen
Jules kicked the underside of the table between them, knocking it up and toward the two Mechanics. The Mechanic light on the table flew off, hit the wall, and went out, plunging the room into darkness.
She’d already decided not to try shooting the Mechanics. Even if she succeeded in hitting both of them—and the odds would’ve been very much against her—Jules didn’t want to shoot Mechanic Hal. He was a Mechanic, he was arrogant, but she did owe her life to him for helping her in Sandurin.
If she wasn’t going to fight, she had to flee. Knowing she had only moments to move before the Mechanics recovered and shot her, Jules ran not toward the door she’d entered by, knowing the Mechanics would expect that, but toward the door opening into the front of the bar. She hit that door, pressing down on the latch and shoving it open.
Light streamed in through it. A Mechanic weapon boomed in the room behind her, and a hole appeared in the door not far in front of Jules’ face.
She made it through and dashed between tables of men and women staring toward the noise of the shot. Not wasting a moment looking back, Jules darted out the front door.
And found herself facing a Mage who seemed as unprepared for that meeting as she was.
Jules rammed her elbow into the Mage’s chest, knocking the Mage back to trip and fall. Having barely paused, Jules ran into the street and sprinted along it, her long coat flapping about her legs.
The sound of a Mechanic revolver crashed behind her, closely followed by two more shots. Jules heard something snap past her left ear.
But she barely noticed, seeing that as the people on the street scattered for cover they revealed others standing at the end of the street. Mages, all looking her way.
I am never coming back to Jacksport. Assuming I survive this visit.
Jules dodged to her left, into an alley between buildings, wondering in a frantic moment if it might be the same alley she’d fled through the night the prophecy was spoken. Dashing across the next street, she took another alley, then wove between buildings, heading inland.
Jacksport was still a long and lean city, sprawled along the harbor front, but not extending far inland. Jules cleared the last substantial building, finding herself in cleared fields of crops facing the wall of the forest a few hundred lances ahead.
She ran toward the trees, knowing how good a target she made out in the open like this.
A Mechanic weapon boomed, sounding different from the revolvers. Then another. Jules didn’t look back until she reached the trees and paused to catch her breath.
At the edge of the town several Mechanics stood, two carrying the long weapons that one Senior Mechanic had called rifles.
Closer, Mages were coming out of the alleys leading to the cleared fields. They moved fast, long knives gleaming in their hands.
Jules turned and ran again, weaving among the tree trunks, trying to set a pace that she could maintain.
On the chart, this hadn’t looked hard. Just a section of island. Running through the woods, Jules found herself facing a series of ridges that forced her to slide down one side and scramble up the other, fighting her way through patches of undergrowth that in some cases had wicked thorns on the stems. Her feet slipped on dead leaves. Fallen branches threatened to trip her up. She leaped them when possible, trying to avoid the spikes of broken segments sticking up into the air as if eager to impale a clumsy passerby. Compared to this, the land in front of the cliffs to the west of the harbor was ideal hiking territory.
Pirate of the Prophecy Page 32