They started down the piers in turn, moving quietly past barge after barge, the only sounds the creaking of wood and the gentle lapping of the inner harbor’s waters, punctuated by an occasional snore from aboard one of the barges. The barges varied a bit in size, and were painted different colors which were hard to distinguish in the darkness, but otherwise were distressingly the same.
After going down two piers and seeing nothing, Mari stopped and looked angry. “This is going to take all night.”
Alain, agreeing with her, scanned the inner harbor. He paused as he got a glimpse of shadows moving between the barges two piers down from where they were.
“What is it? Do you see something?” Mari asked.
“Wait.” He watched carefully, finally rewarded by another sight of a dark shape moving along the water. “A barge is underway, but it is headed toward the warehouses, not the harbor.”
Mari craned her neck to see, then beckoned to Alain. “Come on. There’s no good reason a barge should be moving at this hour. Maybe that’s who we’re looking for.”
It was not easy to move quickly along the piers without making noise, but they managed it, reaching the end just in time to see a barge riding low in the water ease inside the broad, open doors of a warehouse that like some others extended out over the water and contained an enclosed dock. As soon as the barge’s stern cleared the doors, they were silently swung shut.
“That’s it,” Mari breathed. “It’s got to be.” She starting walking at a fast pace toward the warehouse, Alain following despite his doubts about the wisdom of so openly approaching a possible enemy position.
Reaching the large building, which was partly made of wood and partly of masonry, Mari kept going until she found a small side door giving access to the inside. “Locked. Like that’s a problem.” She pulled out something from one of her jacket pockets.
“Mari,” Alain said in a low voice. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to pick this lock, then I’m going inside this warehouse to find the proof of what’s really going on here,” she muttered, going to one knee and examining the lock as she had the ones in the dungeon of Ringhmon.
“But there are those inside. Those crewing the barge and those who operated the doors, at least. Possibly more.”
“Yeah.” She had brought out one of her tools and was applying it to the lock. “So?”
Alain tried not to stare at Mari, who was patiently working away at the lock. “There may be more enemies inside that warehouse than we can deal with,” he explained.
“I don’t hear a crowd in there,” Mari replied, her voice stubborn.
“They could be quiet.”
“We’ll be quiet, too.”
“Wait,” Alain said. “Mari, this is not wise. I was told to evaluate a foe before attacking. We have no idea how many we could be facing, what weapons they might have— ”
“We have to have better evidence if we’re to convince anyone that the barge and this warehouse are involved with the so called dragon attacks!” Mari insisted. “We need proof. We need proof that no one can deny. Everybody keeps telling me that I don’t know what I’m doing and refuses to listen to me! What’s in here can change that. We need to know what it is.”
“This could be very dangerous,” Alain said.
She paused, eyeing him. “How dangerous? Is that a guess? Or your, um, foresight?”
Alain hesitated. The temptation to say whatever he wanted to say was strong. And, after all, his misgivings might be the result of his foresight. But he knew that was not the case, and Alain knew he did not want to lie to Mari even if truth did not exist. “It is a guess. My assessment.”
“Alain, I respect that,” Mari said. “I do. But my guess is that we need to check this out and we need to do it now. I got attacked again today, so I do feel a little urgency to learn exactly what I’m dealing with here.”
“Mari…” What was the right word to use? When it was not a command but a request? Mages never used such words. But Alain remembered being in the dungeon in Ringhmon, recalled Mari asking for his help in getting her tools. She had used the word. “We should go carefully. Please.”
“You said please?” She looked at him, then away. “What did that take? Are you really feeling that much concern about this?”
“Yes. For you.”
“That is so not fair.” Mari ran both hands through her hair, looking down. “Alain, I’m not planning on charging into there and making noise and everything. I want to scout it out. Carefully. Just like you said. Maybe I’ve been rushing things a little just now because success is so close. I can feel it. But I will be careful in there. You’re feeling emotions and they may be a bit overwhelming. I am flattered that you’re worried about me. But this is important. Don’t we need to know who is after me and why?”
“Yes,” Alain agreed.
“Whatever is in there is very likely to be the kind of evidence, the kind of proof, that no one can pretend not to see, or stuff into a drawer and forget about. This isn’t just about me.” Mari paused, her expression shifting to distress. “I’ve learned that things are being ignored. Very important things. If my Guild doesn’t start dealing with those things, doesn’t start admitting some problems exist, then…then this world will be like a boiler with too much pressure inside. Sooner or later, it will explode.”
He looked down at where Mari crouched next to the lock. “As Tiae has?”
“Yes. Like we talked about earlier. Like Tiae. Or like those animals in the pen.” She pointed to the door. “But if I can get strong enough proof, it might be enough to change things, to start changing things here. I just want to fix what is broken. That’s what a Mechanic should do. Will you help me, Alain?”
As he listened to Mari’s earnest words, Alain thought of the storm in his vision sweeping down upon the second sun in the sky. What happened now would either help Mari fight that storm, or perhaps put an end to the future only she could bring. What happened now could perhaps doom the world illusion to the eventual fate of Tiae and worse.
It did not matter, his Mage training told him. The world illusion did not matter. What mattered to him was the young woman who knelt by the door, the shadow who called herself Mari. A shadow the storm would utterly destroy to prevent her from bringing the new day of hope to this world.
The elder had said that his choices mattered, and now he understood just how much that was so. Part of him wanted to stop Mari, to try to keep her safe no matter what, but that would be selfish, an act like that of the Mage elders who clung to power. Mari would insist on trying to help others no matter what Alain did. He understood her well enough already to know that.
Alain remembered the graves of his parents and thought of countless other parents dying if that storm swept this world, countless children dying as well or left unprotected, while the Mage Guild and the Mechanics Guild fortified their Halls and held out as long as possible against the bedlam that the world had become before they, too, fell. How much time was left before that storm struck?
He knew that no matter what his training told him, he would not allow such a thing to happen if he could help prevent it. And the only way he could help prevent it was by helping the daughter of the prophecy, no matter how much he feared for her safety. “I will help you,” Alain told Mari. “Not just because it is you who ask, but because you seek to do the right thing.”