“At least the Mara story and the belief that the daughter has returned are serving to conceal the actual reason we went to Marandur,” Alain pointed out. “The idea that the daughter of Jules sought something her ancestor left there may satisfy many.”
“Jules didn’t leave those texts,” Mari muttered, her eyes going to their packs. “But maybe you’re right and that story will help us. The Mara thing, though, is just so appalling.”
Alain watched her, puzzled again. “Why does it bother you? You are not Mara.”
Mari pressed her fingers against both sides of her head. “Alain, I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I’m sure any woman would be happy to hear that her husband doesn’t consider her to be an undead, blood-sucking fiend. But that still leaves a lot of people inside the Empire who are going to be worried about Mara—about me—coming through the window to devour their children.”
“From what those men and women said,” Alain pointed out, “the chosen prey of Mara is young men, not children. Mara would seek out a man about my age.”
Mari felt her brow lowering as she glared at Alain. “And why did you feel it necessary to say that?” she growled.
Belatedly realizing that he had made a serious mistake, Alain was groping for words. “I did not… that is… what should I say now?”
“As little as possible.”
He nodded silently.
“Do you have any idea how it feels to have people think you’re some loathsome creature?” Mari demanded.
Alain did not respond immediately. “Yes.”
“What?”
“I am a Mage.”
She felt a burst of shame. “Of course you know how that feels. Mechanics and commons use a lot worse words to describe Mages. I’m sorry. I’m just feeling so much pressure. I don’t understand why I couldn’t have more time, a few years at least, to lay the groundwork for overthrowing the Great Guilds. Instead I have to worry about getting it done faster, without attracting too much notice from the Great Guilds before I assemble the strength needed to withstand the inevitable all-out attack.”
“It may be that your presence has created the conditions for the storm,” Alain suggested. “That is why it approaches swiftly.”
“My— What?” Mari glared at him. “Are you saying it’s my fault?”
“No.” He paused, then spoke slowly, as if forming the thoughts behind his words as he talked. “Whenever the daughter appeared, whenever that happened, her presence would create the conditions for the commons to erupt into violence. Instead of waiting with patience for the one who would help free them, they would want to act.”
“But you said this storm was threatening before anyone was talking about me being the daughter!” Mari objected.
“You existed,” Alain said. “In getting to know me, a Mage, and in surviving the attack on the caravan, you had already taken the first steps on the road the daughter had to travel.”
“Great.” Mari slumped backwards. “So it’s my fault just for existing. Just like so many Senior Mechanics have implied for years.”
“That is not—” “
“Speaking of my Guild, I’ve been thinking, Alain. This ship raced to get out of Caer Lyn because they’d heard the harbor was going to be closed, and those guys at dinner said some Mechanics were called off this ship for some Guild emergency. Even though the reaction was badly coordinated, doesn’t that sound like my Guild had realized that I was in Caer Lyn after all?”
Alain considered her question, then nodded. “It does. Yet the two who went to your home betrayed no signs of worry or suspicion.”
“But what else could have betrayed our presence? There is no way that the ship we sabotaged could have gotten that far-talker working again. We saw those sailors after my Guild had already started those measures to close down the port, so they couldn’t have told anyone.”
“You have told me that Mechanics cannot sense the presence of other Mechanics,” Alain noted. “But something is revealing where you are.”
Mari shook her head. “I wish I could figure out what it was. Maybe the Guild has hired lots of commons with orders to keep an eye out for me. How could we avoid being seen if the Guild had that many commons also searching for us?” She tried to think of anything else that might betray her presence, finally hauling out her far-talker and confirming that it was off. “If I was talking on this they could track the signal. I used to leave it on standby sometimes so I could hear what any nearby Mechanics might be saying to each other, but ever since Severun it has stayed off. I don’t even know if the battery is still good. Probably, I guess, since I haven’t been using it.” She pushed the far-talker back into her pack, then looked at the watertight bundle holding the banned Mechanics Guild texts. “About another week and we’ll be at Altis. I wonder what we’ll find there? Answers? Or just more questions?”
“Perhaps both answers and more questions,” Alain suggested.
She sealed her pack. “We’ll know in a while, I guess. What do you want to do now?” Alain smiled at her. “I should have guessed,” Mari laughed, then held out a restraining hand. “How do you feel? You’ve told me that being too close to someone else was supposed to make you lose your powers, and, well, we’ve gotten really, really close.”
He regarded her with that serious look. “I feel stronger than ever. Still. I cannot actually test that, of course.”
“Alain, if you lose your powers—”
“It will have been worth it. I told you that before this voyage began, and everything since then has only reinforced for me that I was right.”
She smiled, reaching for him. “Come here, my Mage.”
The city of Altis lay on the island of Altis in the far northwestern part of the Sea of Bakre. Mari stood at the railing of the sailing ship White Wing, gazing up at the mountains rising steeply from the waters of the sea. The entrance to the great circular harbor was just coming into view as the White Wing swung past the southern headland of the island. The breeze sweeping past the island carried a brisk reminder of winter’s cold, but also the promise of the spring which would soon warm the lands around the inland sea.
Mari looked at the white buildings of the city of Altis on its high tableland and wondered what awaited her there, her and Alain, what enemies might be lying in wait for them at this moment. After more than a week at sea marred only by the worry of another ship intercepting them as the Mechanic ship had, it was jarring to face the prospect of immediate danger once again.
She had been more careful and said less in subsequent conversations with commons on the ship, but had noticed the soldier Patila and the skeptical man both regarding her more than would be usual in the last several days.
Alain came to stand beside her, and Mari reached out to grip his hand tightly. “I’ve been wondering if the last week was a dream,” she confessed. “Wondering if I’ll wake up and find us still trapped in Marandur, or me locked in a cell someplace, all alone.”
“If it was a dream,” Alain noted, “I have shared it with you, and it has been a very good dream.”
“Oh, yeah. No complaints there.” Mari grinned. “But right now I’m trying to get back into the right state of mind for a couple of fugitives from the most powerful enemies in the world. Our honeymoon cruise is over. It’s back to being constantly alert for people trying to kill or capture us.”
“Yes,” Alain agreed. “Our enemies, and your Guild in particular, have shown too much skill at anticipating our moves. No one should know that we have come here, though, so with any luck we will not have to worry about anyone waiting on the dock. Nor should anyone expect us to stay in Altis. Assuming we make it ashore without running into trouble, what do we do first?”