“Well, it will eventually be an automatic illusion generator, at least I hope so. Right now all it does is capture a view, and not a very good one. Iron interferes dreadfully, so I wanted to get an image before we board the steamer.”
Markus leaned closer. “How does it work? Is this all your own design, or did you modify one of Colfax’s devices?”
Dominic snorted. “Modify? I still can’t figure out how Colfax did what he did. No, this is all my work, with Ardhuin’s help for the magic, of course. I wind up this key here, and then aim, and press this lever…” He performed each action as he spoke it, pointing the device, for lack of a better object, at Markus. A faint cylinder of magic flickered about him and vanished. “And then this lever displays the image.”
A grainy image of Markus’s surprised face hovered over the brass central plate of the device. It was quite comical, and Dominic resolved to save it if at all possible. Then if Markus became difficult to deal with, which was a virtual certainty, Dominic could threaten to show it to Gutrune.
“Astonishing.” Markus stared at the image, then at Dominic. “How did you even think to…and how does it know what to capture?”
“It only preserves the image in a defined field, and since I can see it, it’s easy for me. Not so for others, I agree. It needs work.”
“Still.” Markus looked off into the distance. “Think of what this means. You worked magic, yet you are not a magician. What other devices like this could be made, performing what other spells? What are the limitations? I’d be careful who you mention this to.”
Dominic held the device closer to his chest, hands protectively wrapped around it. “Why?”
“Illusion is a harmless spell, for the most part.” Markus’s grin faded. “There are more dangerous magics, and many more people who want them than can perform them. We keep an eye on our own—the Mage Guardians are the most extreme example of this—but who will watch the machines?”
“I—I suppose that is true. I would…” A carriage pulled up near the dock, and Dominic saw a familiar magic–shrouded figure emerge. “Oh, good. My…that is, Mr. Talbot has arrived. Now we can leave.”
Chapter 9
Ardhuin carefully looked about from her bunk, listening for any sign that the others were awake. All were still. Even the lieutenant had stopped snoring, a profound relief. How such a small man could make so much noise amazed her.
She slipped to her feet and reflexively checked her hands. It was hard to tell in the faint light, but her illusion was still holding up well. It had taken some arranging to get a cabin far from the steam engines, and even then both Markus and Sonam had proven useful in maintaining the deceit, since Dominic could always see through the illusion. What they had settled on was preserving illusion primarily for her head, and aversion for the rest of her, since it was much less disturbed by iron and moving engines.
There was no getting around the fact that the ship was not large, and not set up for the comfort of passengers. Most of their group had taken over the junior officers’ quarters, with six tight bunks. Dominic fretted, but there was no other way. Ardhuin had to contrive to wash in privacy. “Mr. Talbot” was also prone to seasickness, another way to avoid scrutiny. It wasn’t for very long, she told herself.
In the cramped washroom, she inspected her illusion and decided Mr. Talbot needed to look a trifle pale today, due to his illness. She made the necessary changes and then focused her magic, hard and sharp, at the metal pendant around her neck. That would preserve the illusion even if she were unconscious or sleeping, another handy idea of Dominic’s.
Taking advantage of the early hour, she climbed the gangway to the deck and admired the view, breathing in the fresh salt air. The sky was cloudless and crystalline, and she could see distant islands that looked like dark, low clouds on the horizon. She took out the notebook she had brought with her and found a place out of the way of the sailors to sit.
Preusa was providing military assistance to go after Denais, but they would have to scout out the situation and get that information to the Preusan troops for it to be of any use. She nibbled her pencil, thinking of what she could do. First, of course, was getting to MacCrimmon and releasing him from his stasis. He would have the best idea of what needed to be done. It was curious—Sonam had an instinctive understanding of magic and considerable power, but larger and more complex spells apparently had only been taught to him by MacCrimmon. Was there no established magical instruction in Bhuta?
The breeze, the cries of the seabirds, and the vibration of the engines, more felt than heard, muted other sounds. She did not know Dominic was there until he put a hand on her shoulder.
“What do you find so engrossing?”
“I am merely attempting to figure out what needs to be done first, once we get to our destination. However long that takes.” She sighed.
Dominic shaded his eyes with one hand, looking out over the sea. “We’re supposed to make Aleksandri today—at least, that’s what Bové was told yesterday.” He sat down beside her. “Then it’s a day or so to arrange the overland transportation to Sudr Abaya, and another ship voyage to Kiantan.”
“You are sounding like quite an experienced explorer,” Ardhuin teased. “Are you enjoying your first expedition?”
He leaned back against the hull of the ship and glanced at her. “Well, I do miss my wife.”
“I’m given to understand she misses you too.” Ardhuin leaned forward, quickly looking about. No one was in sight. She quickly cast a strong aversion field, sound damping, and a light sensing fog—not a ward; that would cause too much comment if it was triggered and create exactly the kind of notice they wanted to avoid. Now she would know before anyone came in view, and they would not be aware of detection.
She leaned back into Dominic’s arms, his cheek against hers. “Ah, much better,” he murmured. “I only hope our accommodations will be more…flexible once we reach Cathai.”
“Certainly there will be less iron about.” Ardhuin snuggled closer. “I will be able to maintain much larger and more complex illusions—but there will still be difficulties. Poor Dominic…”
“Yes, poor Dominic. He will need a great deal of sympathy, when circumstances permit.” He tightened his hold about her. “Assuming he is still in his wife’s good graces after all this extremely uncomfortable travel.”
“Since it was all her fault to begin with, I imagine she will be both understanding and appreciative of his sacrifices. It is a pity that the necessity for speed precludes comfort.”
“It will be that sooner over and done with.” He stroked her hair softly. “At least we are together. Despite Bové.”
Ardhuin chuckled. “Oh dear—it just occurred to me, with Gutrune meeting us in Aleksandri—how will we contrive to hide her?”
“I am quite certain she will be equal to the task. Especially with our help,” Dominic said firmly. “Now, before we are interrupted I have a much more important matter to attend to…”
It did not involve much talking. But it was, Ardhuin agreed, quite important. It did not seem like much time had passed, but the sudden, startling blast of the ship’s whistle made her realize the sun had risen significantly. The whistle was repeated and followed by the sounds of running feet.
“I suppose that means we’re coming in to port.” Dominic reluctantly let her go, and Ardhuin dispelled the magics that had been concealing them.
They went to the deck railing. A dark, thick smudge was visible on the horizon, and getting larger. The sea, previously empty, now sported several sails and even a smoke plume from another steamer.
“Ah, there you are!” Markus joined them at the rail, his eyes bright with amusement. “Bové was looking for you, Kermarec. I informed him you had sought solitude to write, and then I asked in turn if Herr Talbot had returned from inspecting our gear in the holds. He should now believe you have been on opposite ends of the ship for hours.”
“You
are too obliging.” Dominic glared at him. “Unnecessary, but obliging.”
Markus grinned. “Merely ensuring that suspicious thoughts do not enter the worthy Herr Bové’s head, should he begin to notice the two of you seem to disappear at the same time and cannot be found. We still have several weeks that will be spent in his company, after all.” He took out a pair of field glasses and handed them to Ardhuin. “There is an excellent view of the ruins of the ancient Eskelion lighthouse from here, if you would care to take a look.”
Dominic’s expression lightened. “Oh, the melted one? I heard that an Alban team was doing excavations there. They are investigating the theory that the destruction was caused by purely natural forces, not magic.”
“They think the light was not magical, then? But what natural source would be as bright?” Ardhuin peered through the field glasses. The lighthouse was quite easy to locate, with the runnels of molten glass covering the ancient stone like a web. She had only seen illustrations of it before. It was the oldest artifact known to be connected with magic—although if Dominic’s story proved true, that might change.
She handed the glasses to Dominic. “Can you see magic from this distance?” she asked.
“I suppose, though I would think after thousands of years it might have faded a trifle…oh.” He lowered the glasses, looking perplexed. “Well, I can see something magical there, but it’s larger than the tower itself. How strange! I wonder if the excavation is connected? I wish we had time to visit them.”
More people, sailors and passengers, were coming up to the deck now. “I believe I will go below and see to my gear,” Ardhuin said. Time to stay out of sight, at least until the engines stopped.
“And I should see Bové and find out what he wants from me.” Dominic handed the field glasses back to Markus, glancing wistfully out at the ancient lighthouse.
“I’m sure it will still be there when we return,” Markus said cheerfully. “And they would be delighted to learn about your observations, but first things first.”
Ardhuin soon had her personal belongings—or rather, Mr. Talbot’s—packed and ready to be carried ashore. The cabin’s porthole had a view of the docks, and while she waited she watched the unloading begin. The local laborers wore dusty, faded robes and turbans, and apparently were unable to do anything without a great deal of shouting and gesticulation. One load of baggage nearly escaped when the net bag hanging from the dock crane slipped open, but a quick–thinking fisherman in a low, flat boat intercepted it and helped get it back on the dock, for which he was rewarded with a few tossed coins.
Dominic came in while she was watching another load smash into a cart, followed by yet more shouting. “So, Bové has arranged for us to stay at a caravanserai just outside the port district. We can leave the ship whenever we like.”
She turned away from the porthole. “They don’t need us here?”
He shook his head. “I rather got the impression we would be in the way.” He grinned. “Not to mention the officers would like their cabin back, I imagine.”
She checked her illusion. As she had expected, with the engines quiet it was clear and sharp. “By all means. I hope this place is easy to find. Aleksandri appears to be utter chaos, and I suppose we won’t be able to read the signs.”
“You assume there would be any signs. Besides, if we get lost, we merely need to follow any string of camels we see.”
Ardhuin grabbed her carpetbag and followed Dominic out of the cabin. “What if they are leaving the city instead of entering?”
“Not at this hour. Apparently the city shuts down around noon, when the heat is greatest, and no one would be foolish enough to depart then.”
At the foot of the narrow gangplank, Sonam and Markus Asgaya were already waiting. Sonam was looking about, wide–eyed with amazement. Markus was also looking about, but with a crease of worry between his brows.
The heat was like a blow once they were away from the water. Ardhuin could feel sweat trickling down her back, especially underneath her custom–made undervest that assisted in converting her silhouette into one more suited to maintaining her male disguise. It served its purpose, but now more than ever it was particularly uncomfortable.
The port city featured only a handful of Aeropan–style buildings, mostly constructed by trading companies. The rest were a motley collection of mud–brick structures, stacked up on each other apparently at random, with striped cloth awnings over dark, shaded doorways. They passed through a small market with hammered brass pots and bowls laid out on threadbare rugs, melons, chickens in cages, and fruits Ardhuin did not recognize. The sharp, pungent smell of spice filled the air. There were also a handful of women present, swathed in long, filmy cotton veils in shades of blue and green.
Markus leaned forward. “If you have not already done so, I would recommend light personal wards, very close. This is the kind of place to expect pickpockets to appear, especially for foreigners like us.”
Ardhuin did so, including Dominic in her casting, and translating the warning to Alban for Sonam. He just smiled.
“I will do so, to spare their effort. I have nothing worth stealing.” He turned his head to stare at an old man with a wispy beard and no teeth, eyes pale with cataracts, casting illusions for a crowd of ragged children. They appeared to be illustrating a story the man was telling in a high, cracked voice, a story of heroes and demons.
The crowds made their progress agonizingly slow, not to mention aromatic, but eventually a taller building, surrounded by palm trees and separate from the jumbled structures of the city, came into view. It had one large main gate and a colonnade inside and out to provide shade. In the center of the large courtyard was a fountain with a deep, wide basin. Men with camels waited their turn to water their animals. It was just as crowded as the marketplace, but not as noisy. They went inside and found an open spot in the shade.
Markus glanced about again, looking even more worried. “She said she would meet us without fail,” he murmured, low enough only they could hear. “I saw no one that could be her, even disguised, at the docks.”
Ardhuin had to wait for her eyes to adjust to the shadows after the bright light outside. Several of the Geaptan locals wore pieces of Aeropan clothing, a vest or a shirt, but one man was wearing a jacket despite the heat. He was shading his eyes, even though he was in the shade, and had brown skin like a local but looked familiar. She didn’t see anyone remotely like Gutrune.
“Over by the third group of columns.” She leaned close to Markus. “Doesn’t that look like Stoller?”
He glanced over without moving his head. “Yes, it does, if Stoller had been spending time in the sun. Shall we nonchalantly go visit the date seller nearby and see if you are correct?”
“Yes. If for no other reason than hunger,” Dominic commented. “I am told the meal will not be served until evening.”
“I can understand not wanting to cook in this heat.” Ardhuin mopped her forehead with a handkerchief. “But food would be good. And water.”
The dates were fresh and delicious. The man who looked like Stoller faded back into the darker section of the colonnade when they approached but stayed within earshot.
“I wonder where our friend is.” Dominic spoke clearly, but not loudly, in Preusan. The man glanced sharply at him, then gestured.
They strolled idly in the direction the man had indicated, eating their dates and admiring the exotic architecture. This was the section where the camels were stabled, and their noisy grunts and moans filled the air. They also covered quiet conversation.
“Thank God you made it,” the man said in clear Preusan.
Ardhuin peered at his face more closely. “Stoller? What happened to you?”
Stoller made a face. “We were attacked leaving Anatoli. We had to use disguises to get this far. Someone must have seen…but you’ll want to hear all that somewhere else.” He glanced about. “Where is your room?”
Markus frowned. “W
here is your mistress?”
“Not running about where she can be seen, sir. She’ll be by when it’s dark. It’s a bad business and getting worse, and she needs to be careful.”
“Not reassuring,” Markus muttered, pacing a few steps. “By nightfall, eh? That’s late for planning. How do you intend to join our caravan?”
Stoller sighed. “We’ve got one of those damn camels. We can generally get it to go where we want. Say you’ve hired us to carry your more delicate equipment or some such. If that doesn’t work, we’ll just join another caravan going the same way; lots of travel to Sudr Abaya.”
He seemed reluctant to talk and worried, glancing about fitfully. With nothing else to do and the heat still oppressive, they decided to retire to their room and try to sleep. Ardhuin merely dozed fitfully, unable to find a comfortable spot on the lumpy and stale–smelling bed. Then the rest of the expedition team showed up, loud and noisy. It wasn’t until the sun went down and the temperature began to lower that she felt able to sleep—and that’s when the food arrived. She sighed and gave up.
Aside from the lack of silverware, the meal was delicious. Chunks of spiced lamb on a bed of saffron rice, eaten with sections of flat bread, and mint tea occupied everyone’s attention to the exclusion of conversation for some time. With immediate hunger satisfied, the members of the expedition discussed the next stage of the trip, the caravan master they had hired, and how many camels would be needed for the travelers.
Ardhuin protested. “Why can’t we ride horses? From what I’ve seen, a camel has all the sweet temper of a mule with a hangover and the grace of a three–legged bull. It would likely refuse to go where I wanted just from spite.”
One of the junior researchers, Simons, grinned. “Yeah, they can be pretty bad—but they like to follow the others. Not much steering needed, and you get used to the motion after a while.” He waved his hands in a swaying manner.
Ardhuin, in her character as Talbot, winced. “Please. I’ve just gotten off the blasted boat. What this place needs is a nice railway. Or horses.”
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