Mari just gazed blankly for a second, unable to accept what she was seeing, then abruptly remembered that she needed to do something. Reaching into the hole with a fear that it would vanish and leave her hand embedded in steel, Mari fumbled for the lock bolt, which now hung in the door jamb unsupported by anything where the lock mechanism had been. She pulled out the heavy bolt, hastily looked for anything else protruding into the frame from the door, then yanked her hand free and dropped the bolt as if it were on fire. “Done.”
The Mage sighed and relaxed. The hole vanished at the same moment the sheared off bolt hit the floor inside the cell with a muffled thud. Mari studied the door, which once again looked and felt completely solid. But the end of the bolt still lay on the floor where Mari had dropped it. She pushed against the door and felt it begin to swing open. I am insane. I have to be. This can’t be happening. She pushed at the door again and it scraped open a little more. But if I’m going to imagine I’m escaping, I might as well go through with it.
She pushed open the door far enough to be able to stick her head out, searching quickly to confirm no guards were in sight, then looked back at the Mage, who was still sitting slumped on the cot. “Don’t you want to come along?”
The Mage eyed her. “You want me to accompany you.”
“Yes, I want you to accompany me! Do you think that I’d leave you in this cell? Blazes, Mage, I’m not that difficult! Come on!” He rose and walked after her as Mari slid out through the partially opened door. She paused, looking and listening for any sign of guards, but could detect nothing. “Shouldn’t they have someone watching the cells?”
Mage Alain stopped beside her. “Perhaps they do not want underlings in a position to hear things their prisoners may say. This is not a large dungeon, and seems to have had only you as a prisoner, so perhaps it is reserved for certain special needs.”
“That makes sense.” Mari took a couple of cautious steps, glancing through the grate in the door of the cell next to hers. She froze. No other prisoners were there, but carefully placed in the center of the cell floor was her tool kit. She pulled at the door, finding it locked securely, then looked around for a key. “I don’t believe it. We found my tools and we can’t get to them.”
“Your tools?” Mage Alain asked.
“They’re important! I need that tool kit.” She turned to the Mage, her hands upraised in a pleading position. “Those tools are…they’re my spells. And my…elders will give me a very hard time if I lose them. Please, Mage Alain, can you make a hole in that door’s lock as well? Just for a few seconds? Please?”
Mage Alain eyed her. “You need these things to cast your spells?”
“Yes!”
“And to undo spells?”
“Undo spells?” What did that mean? “Um, yes. I mean, unscrewing stuff and disassembly and disconnecting—”
“Disconnecting?” Mage Alain faced the door. “Then I must do this.” He stared at the lock, sweat appearing on his brow. “Quickly,” he whispered.
Mari tore her eyes from the Mage and saw a hole in the lock, though smaller than the one he had created before. Reaching in, she found enough of the lock mechanism remained to hold the bolt, but could turn the mechanism by hand to withdraw the bolt. Shoving the door to make sure it was unlocked, she pulled her hand free. “Done.”
The Mage nodded, the hole vanished without a trace, then he fell against the nearby wall, his body limp with exhaustion.
Mari grabbed him to keep him from falling to the floor, guilt surging within her. She had touched him before, but this was the first time she had held him, and his slimness made it all the more clear that the Mage was but a boy close to her in age. That was fortunate, because she might have had trouble holding up a bigger man, but it also drove home to her that she had been pushing him hard and somewhat selfishly. “Forgive me,” she said formally, “and thank you.”
Settling the Mage into a resting position, Mari darted into the cell, hoisting her tool kit with a feeling of joy. Most of what it held were just simple tools like screwdrivers, pliers, and wrenches, but with those tools she felt more confident and complete. She ripped open the compartment on the side, finding her pistol still there. Holding the weapon, she chambered a round and released the safety, then keeping the pistol in one hand and carrying her tool kit with the other she left the cell, shoving the door shut again with her hip.
Mage Alain struggled to his feet, fending off her offered help. “I should be stronger,” he mumbled. “I can walk.”
Mari stepped back, recognizing that in this at least the Mage was like any other young man. She had stung his pride by pushing him into revealing just how weak he was. “As you will, Mage Alain.”
She walked in the lead, keeping her place slow enough to accommodate his exhaustion even though Mari’s nerves were screaming for her to run, run, run, until they got out of here. For a brief time after leaving her cell she had been in an almost dreamlike state, half convinced this was all unreal, but now she had fully accepted it and was increasingly worried about some pack of guards showing up to overwhelm them. She could use her pistol if necessary, but as when they were watching the bandits, she knew that the sound of a single shot would bring an avalanche of enemies upon her.
Together they moved down the passageway, dimly lit by oil lamps set at wide intervals. After passing several more cells, all empty, the passage took a turn and ran past a few additional cells. At the end of the hall, a door blocked further progress. Mari approached the door, her weapon poised, then halted in mid step as Mage Alain hissed a warning. “Stop. No farther.”
Chapter Ten
Mari held herself absolutely still, looking around. “What is it?”
“An alarm spell, set on the area near the door. If someone not wearing the right charm passes through it, it will alert its master or masters.”
Mari gave the Mage a level look. A big part of her wanted to just keep walking, because that sounded ridiculous. Another part of her pointed out that she wouldn’t be standing here unless something even weirder had already happened. She stood still. “Mages? Like you?”
“Not like me,” Alain denied. “This feels like the work of Dark Mages.”
“Dark Mages? What are Dark Mages?”
Alain gave her a look in which surprise could actually be seen. “You have not heard of Dark Mages?”
Mari shook her head. “I’m beginning to understand that there’s a whole lot of things I haven’t heard of.”
“Dark Mages use the same methods as the Mages of the Guild,” he explained, “but they apply their skills in different ways and undertake tasks which the Mage Guild will not. They are unsanctioned by the Guild, their works often the sort of thing no one wishes to openly admit. They do not wear robes or other distinctive garb, instead hiding among the common folk.”
“Are you saying that there are things Mages won’t do?” That was certainly contrary to the stories that Mari had heard.
Alain nodded almost absentmindedly, his attention focused mainly on the area just in front of her. “There are things which diminish wisdom, which harm a Mage’s ability to gain power and learn new spells.” He paused, giving her a sidelong look which seemed…worried?
“All right.” Mari nodded back to him, wondering why any Mage’s worries would be aimed at her. She must have misinterpreted that.
But as she stood still, her mind raced. If there were Dark Mages hidden among the commons, could there also be Dark Mechanics? Unsanctioned Mechanics didn’t exist, her Guild claimed. But then who was responsible for what she had found here? Commons, who were supposed to lack the necessary special talent to do Mechanic work? That thought was a lot scarier than the idea of Dark Mechanics. She had to ask some pointed questions. She wasn’t an apprentice now. If she demanded answers, even Guild Hall Supervisor Stimon would have to provide something in return.