“No! We do not see any ships leaving the harbor at this time! There is only open water off of our port side! Whiskey whiskey, nora nora. Please shorten sail more so you don’t get too far ahead of us!”
Mari lowered the speaking trumpet and looked at the captain. “Whiskey whiskey, nora nora?”
The captain grinned. “That stands for wink wink, nudge nudge. Sailor talk. They’re pretending we’re not here.”
“But… why?”
“Because the Great Guilds would take it very badly if the Confederation rendered aid to you, Lady. But if the Confederation just happens to decide to get tough with the Syndaris at the same time as you’re escaping from Julesport? How could anyone have known that was happening? So sorry, Great Guilds, we didn’t mean it and we’ll never do it again.” The captain’s smile shone in the moonlight. “But as for us, the only ones who have to fear that warship this morning are any Syndari galleys waiting outside the harbor.”
“This morning?” Mari looked around at the dark sky and the bright moon above.
“It’s well past midnight, Lady. A new day, if you’ll pardon the term.”
Mari heard cheering and stared blankly down the length of the ship. All of the crew and all of the Mechanics were looking at her and applauding.
“Nice,” Alli approved as she walked up to Mari.
“What are you talking about?”
“This.” Alli waved around. “We get in to harbor safe, we get our supplies, we rescue Alain, we pick up some new friends including Calu—and do I ever owe you for that—and now we just got out this mess without a shot being fired!”
“I did not—” Mari tried to gather her thoughts. “I didn’t do any of that. No. I led the rescue of Alain. But not the rest.”
“Mari, you’re the most modest friend I’ve got,” Alli said with a laugh, “as well as the most brilliant. Accept the praise. You earned it.”
“You are all out of your minds,” Mari complained.
All lights extinguished, the Gray Lady kept to the lee of the two Confederation warships as they charged out at four Syndari galleys drifting near the entrance to the harbor. As the galleys scattered to avoid the frigates, the Gray Lady slipped past unseen and sailed due west until the lights of Julesport, the frigates, and the galleys all vanished beneath the horizon.
Only then, alone in the wide expanse of the Jules Sea, did the Gray Lady turn south. The sun rising off the port side gilded the masts and sails of the clipper ship as she rode before a freshening breeze that sang through the rigging, cleaving the waters en route the broad, clear reaches of the great Umbari Ocean.
Mari, staggering with weariness, finally felt free to head down to the cabin. The Gray Lady had begun rolling in the choppy seas, which made her progress even more difficult, but Mari refused to ask anyone for help. She knew she was being stubborn, but she was going to get through this day even if it killed her.
Holding onto the cabin door for dear life, Mari made it inside, where the two healers were still with Alain.
She made it to the bunk and sat down on the edge, brushing his forehead with one hand. Alain’s face, relaxed in sleep, looked as young as it had the first time they had met. Her mind, half-delirious with fatigue, generated a powerful vision of that moment, when a panicky Mari had through pure reflexive distrust almost put a bullet into the Mage coming toward her out of the dust clouds. “We’ve certainly come a long way from that caravan in the Waste outside of Ringhmon, haven’t we, my Mage?” she asked.
Someone cleared his throat and Mari, with a guilty start, looked at the healers. “I’m sorry. Is he going to be all right?”
The woman named Cas smiled. “Yes. Probably weak, and he may be in pain when he awakens, not only because of the after-effects of the drug but because of this.” She gently raised Alain’s head to indicate a bandaged area.
“He hit his head?” Mari asked.
“Something hit his head,” Pol corrected. He looked tired, too, but satisfied. “It looks like the sort of injury caused by a sap arrow.”
“A what?”
“A sap arrow,” Pol explained. “A sap is a leather-covered weight that’s used by thieves and kidnappers to knock out their prey. There’s a special arrow for small crossbows that has a sap instead of a point and is fired with less force than a lethal arrow. Only criminals use it. We were told Dark Mages did this?”
“That’s right,” Mari said. “I mean, it looks like the Mage Guild Hall in Julesport hired some Dark Mages to do it.”
“Slime-sucking bottom-dwellers,” Cas muttered angrily. “We’ve dealt with the results of their work before. You’re lucky you found him quickly.”
There was something else important, something that she needed to ask about. What was it? “The drug. Is that going to cause any problems?”
“Doubtful,” Cas replied. “There’s always a little concern that even someone young and strong could be thrown into addiction after only a single dose of a drug like that, but it’s very rare. It usually takes frequent use to develop addiction and create physical problems. Assuming Mages are like other people, I think it more likely he’ll have developed a physical aversion to this drug based on this experience.”
Pol nodded in agreement. “Is he… like other people, Lady? We couldn’t find any differences, but Mages—well, you know.”
Mari almost laughed, but she couldn’t muster the strength. “Alain is like everyone else, and like no one else. He is the most amazing, important…” Her voice faltered. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry. It’s been… a… very… long… day.”
She had the vague sensation of being helped into another bunk, then fell fast asleep, aware only of the smile on her lips. Alain was all right.
Mage Alain awoke to find himself in a bunk aboard a ship that was plainly at sea, rolling as it cut through swells. Alain puzzled over that. He knew he was a Mage, but for the moment nothing else came clear to him. He had no memories of a ship leaving port, or of getting aboard a ship. He had been walking down a street in… Julesport. A group of common soldiers about him? Worrying about… Mari. And—
Mari? Who was—?
For a moment he was surrounded by dust, hearing the crashing of strange weapons, the blood of commons spattering his robes, the caravan destroyed around him, ready to die but walking as if in a dream toward the last wagon where someone might survive, seeing a figure in a dark jacket appear before him—
Mari.
Everything flooded back into him, memories and feelings and emotions that left Alain gasping. A vast emptiness that once had been all he had was suddenly full once more, full because of her, and he felt a sudden rush of worry. What had happened to him? Where was Mari?
He twisted to look, almost wincing at a sudden pain on the back of his head. But he could see the other bunk, and Mari lashed into it so she couldn’t be tossed out by the ship’s motion.
This was the Gray Lady. Mari was safe, a trace of a smile on her face.
Alain sat up cautiously, feeling the back of his head. A bandage. That explained the pain there. But he also felt odd, a roiling of the stomach and an aching of his arms and legs that felt like the after-effects of eating spoiled food.
What had happened? Alain looked at Mari, guessing that she would know, but tracing with his eyes the great weariness that held her deeply asleep. He had seen her like this before, when Mari had pushed herself too far and too long because she thought she must, because others needed her, because she would not leave anyone behind. If he woke her now she would abandon sleep and get back to whatever tasks awaited. He knew that, and so Alain stood cautiously and moved toward the cabin door as quietly as he could.