“Won’t make any difference,” she interrupted with a bitter voice. “There’s no place left to go and no reason to go there except running for our lives. And for what? To live hunted a little longer? This isn’t a game there’s any chance of winning any more.”
“There must be a way to win.”
“You keep saying things like that. Mari will change the world! Where did you get that idea?” Mari slumped a little lower in her seat, glaring out at the night.
“You have told me you know of your role in the prophecy. I understand why you have not wanted to speak of it, but—”
“What?” Mari stared at him. “I told you what?”
“That you did not wish to talk about your role as the one who will fulfill the prophecy to overthrow the Great Guilds.”
“When did I— WHAT?” Mari gazed at him wordlessly, stunned.
“The prophecy,” Alain tried again. “You kept telling me you did not want to speak of it, and that you already understood what you were fated to do.”
“Fated? Me?” Mari gulped for air before she could speak again, her words coming fast. “That prophecy was a long time ago. Why would anyone think it connects to me? Aside from deluded commons, that is.”
“You said you knew about what I had seen,” Alain said, growing more confused. “Each time I brought it up, you—”
“What you had seen?” Mari stared at her hands, then back at him. “About me?”
“Yes. The vision clearly indicated that you were the one. She who could stop the oncoming storm, who could bring the new day, who would fulfill the prophecy of the daughter.”
Mari’s mouth hung open. Her eyes were locked on him and she appeared to be struggling to breathe. Alain, alarmed, jumped to his feet and ran to her. “Mari!”
She drew in a convulsive breath, followed by several more. “When?” Mari finally managed to say.
“When will you fulfill the prophecy?”
Mari suddenly shot to her feet and glared at him. “No! When did you learn this?”
“In Dorcastle.”
“In Dorcastle? And this is the first time you’ve mentioned it?”
It was Alain’s turn to stare at her, wondering why she was so angry. “No. I tried to speak of it there, and you told me not to. You said you already knew.”
“I—” Mari couldn’t breathe again for a moment. “You know, I’m pretty sure I would remember that!”
“But I have brought it up again and again and each time you have said it did not need to be discussed!” Alain realized he had actually spoken with force.
“I didn’t mean— That was— You never—” Mari sat down abruptly, as if her legs had lost all strength, her expression horrified. “Tell me. Tell me everything.”
He sat down as well, feeling both confused and awful, though Alain was not sure why. “In the desert, after we had joined the salt traders, I saw a vision focused on you. I did not know what it could mean. It showed a second sun above you, and striving against that sun a swiftly moving storm whose clouds were made up of angry mobs and clashing armies.”
Her eyes were still locked on him, but Mari did not say anything.
“You and I had ceased speaking with each other once we found others, so I could not tell you of it then. It was not until I reached Dorcastle that I found an elder who would tell me what the vision meant,” Alain continued. “This elder was not like the others. She warned me against speaking of it to anyone else, because, she said, it revealed that the daughter of the prophecy had come, that she was the one whom I had seen the vision focused upon. That an awful storm approached our world, one that would cause it to descend into chaos and destruction as the commons erupted in uncontrolled fury after centuries of servitude. The elder said the forces making up that storm would try to destroy the daughter, because she was the only one who could change the world and overcome the forces which threatened the world. She told me that, as you and I talked of in Dorcastle, the anarchy in Tiae is a sign of what is to come everywhere unless the storm is stopped.
“I tried to speak of it to you when we met at the restaurant, and you told me you already knew what I wished to say, and there was no need to say anything.”
Mari finally spoke again, her voice ragged. “Wait. What did you say? Exactly what did you tell me?”
Alain tried to remember. “I said it was about you, and about me, and the future—”
“Oh no!” Mari slammed both of her palms against her forehead. “You— You— I thought you wanted to talk about you and me being together in the future!”
“I did, because I knew you would need my help, my protection, in order to fulfill the prophecy—”
“No! No! No!” Mari was angry again, glowering at him. “What you said sounded like a romantic discussion, like you wanted to talk about us being serious and committed to each other, and I was not ready for that so I told you…” She gasped, sagging back against her seat, looking stricken. “No. I can’t be her.”
“Mari?”
“I want to be angry with you. I want to be very, very, very angry with you,” Mari said in a whisper. “But I remember some things, times you started to say things and I thought… Oh, no. Alain, couldn’t you tell that I didn’t really know what you wanted to talk about?”
“No,” he said. “I could not.” Alain wondered what his own face and eyes might be revealing now, because he could no longer think to control them. “You did not know? All this time you did not?”
She looked back at him, and must have seen something there that calmed her anger though not her distress. “You really did think I knew. Why did you think I didn’t want to ever talk about it?”
“It is such a huge thing,” Alain said. “Such a difficult thing.”
“Yeah,” Mari said in a faint voice. “Huge. Difficult. Alain, you said your Guild knew who I was.”
“Not that way,” he hastened to say. “They knew you were the Mechanic I had seen in Ringhmon. They did not know you were the daughter—”
“Don’t call me that.”
Alain tried again. “The elder I spoke with would not have betrayed you or me. I am certain that my Guild did not know. If they did, they would not have sent a single Mage with a knife to try to kill you in Edinton. If they even suspected, they would have used every Mage in Edinton and every spell they possessed, or they would have waited until you came to me to ensure they killed both of us.”
Her eyes stayed on his. “Maybe they expected me to join you on that Alexdrian expedition that was attacked, so that dragon could kill both of us.”
“That…is possible,” Alain said. “But the Roc tried to kill you first, so it may be that the Mage Guild now suspects who you are.”
“That’s what you meant when were talking after we were attacked on the train?” Mari was blinking, her expression shifting from horror to dismay to disbelief and through all those emotions again. “My Guild, your Guild, they’ll kill me in a heartbeat if they find out about this. The Empire…what would the Empire do if they got their hands on me now? My life isn’t worth a speck of dust.”
“But you are fated to fulfill—” Alain began.
“Stop that! That’s simply ridiculous!” Mari jumped up and began pacing, her hands moving wildly as she talked. “How could I be her? Do I look like her?”
“Mari, you had already decided to change this world—”
“That’s different!” She spun to face him. “That didn’t make me…her.”
Alain stood up slowly and spoke with care. “You are still Master Mechanic Mari of Caer Lyn. You will always be that person. All the prophecy says is that you are also the daughter. It is not you. It is only part of what you will do.” His voice faltered and he fought to steady it. “Mari, I…am…sorry. If I had suspected that you did not know, I would have found a way to tell you before this.”