The Hidden Masters of Marandur

Chapter Twelve

Alain kept walking, his face showing neither worry nor any other emotion, until he stopped just before the female Mage. “Mage Asha.”

He had reverted to full Mage behavior, Mari noted nervously, his voice as impassive as his face. “Don’t lose yourself, Alain,” she muttered.

Asha inclined her head very slightly toward him. “Mage Alain.” If Asha had taken any notice of Mari’s presence, she didn’t show any sign of it.

“This one has been trying to find you,” Alain explained, “to discover why you did not inform the other Mages present when you saw me on the road to Umburan.” He might have been asking about the weather in Kitara, for all the feeling in his voice.

“I knew you,” Asha stated blandly, her face still showing nothing, “from the days of our acolyte training. Your presence was clear to me, though the other Mages did not feel it.”

“Why did you not tell the others?” Alain asked.

“I had no instructions to do so.”

Alain nodded. “Were you among the Mages who assisted the Imperial ambush of the Alexdrian raiders west of Umburan about three weeks ago?”

Asha nodded back. “I was.”

“Did you know the Guild had assigned me to be the Mage for the Alexdrian forces?”

“I did not.”

“I was the only Mage with the Alexdrians.”

The female Mage stayed silent for a moment before replying. “Only you? There were ten of us with the Imperials.” Was it Mari’s imagination that some trace of surprise, of upset, had finally entered Asha’s voice?

“Ten.” It was Alain’s turn to pause, as he absorbed that information. “I was not told. The Mage who cast lightning attempted to strike me during the battle,” Alain continued with a deadpan voice and no expression. “A direct attack on me. The dragon Mage then sent his spell creature up the pass with orders to kill me first.”

Asha hesitated again before replying. “I did not know these things. Do you say, Mage Alain, that our elders have decreed your death?”

“I believe this is so.”

Mari watched the two Mages converse, feeling a growing sense of disbelief and disquiet. They were discussing, quite literally, matters of life and death. This was apparently their first reunion in some time. Yet their faces and voices gave no clue to the emotions they felt, gave no clue to any emotions at all. It was both eerie and disturbing. I’d forgotten that Alain could be like this. I’d forgotten what he was like when we first talked in the waste outside of Ringhmon. Watching this is downright scary. What if there had been another Mage along with the caravan? What if I had seen him conversing with another Mage then, the two of them so blasted inhuman? I never would’ve spoken to him, even if we’d still ended up fleeing together. He, they, would’ve been too creepy. Even if I’d just seen other Mages talking together close up then I bet I would’ve felt that way. But I never have.

Alain talks sometimes about destiny bringing us together. I think that’s nonsense, but then again if we hadn’t both been alone when the caravan was destroyed, if we both hadn’t lacked actual experience with members of the other’s Guild before that, we wouldn’t have talked. We wouldn’t have seen beneath the exterior we thought we knew and caught a glimpse of the real person beneath. Things would’ve been a lot different.

Thanks, destiny.

Asha was gazing dispassionately at Alain. “A Roc Mage arrived here a day ago with a tale of having attacked a Mechanic creation. I saw that she was hiding something from us when she spoke of this.”

“That Mage too tried to kill me, and Mari as well.”

“Why would the Guild seek your death, Mage Alain? Did you act against the Guild?”

“I did not act against the Guild before the attempts to kill me. I believe that the elders ordered my death because I had come to know this woman.” Alain indicated Mari.

Mari nodded at Asha, then decided someone here ought to act human and smiled politely. “Hi. Nice to meet you. How are you doing?”

The female Mage looked at Mari for just a moment as if she was gazing at a rock, not returning the smile or any other expression before turning her attention back to Alain and speaking only to him. “She is not a Mage. Why do you know a common, and why should the Guild be concerned by this?”

“She is a Mechanic.”

News that would have aroused outbursts of emotion in a conversation with Mechanics or commons merely caused Asha’s eyebrow to twitch. “Why are you with her?”

Perhaps it was because Mari had been around Alain, gaining experience with detecting emotions which were mostly hidden, but she thought that Asha’s voice rose infinitesimally in disbelief at the end. Not that anyone else would probably have noticed. Listening to the Mages’ emotionless conversation did have one benefit, Mari thought. She couldn't hear or see any negative feelings about her in the impassive words of Asha.

“I am with her,” Alain said, “because she is important.”

“I do not understand. She is a shadow. She cannot be important.”

“She is to me.” Alain paused. “She is to this world. She defines the world I see.”

That actually caused a visible flash of surprise on Asha’s face. Mari was so busy staring at Alain, aghast at what sounded to her like a very exaggerated description of her importance to him, that she almost missed Asha’s reaction. The female Mage looked at Mari a little longer this time, then shook her head. “I do not understand how a shadow could lead you to believe this, Mage Alain.”

Mari couldn’t help noticing that the female Mage was talking past her, as if only the two Mages were present. She would have gotten angry except for her own training as a Mechanic to do the same to Mages and commons whenever she was around them. It didn’t make sense to blame Asha for acting the same way that Mari had been instructed to act.

Alain stood perfectly still for a moment before answering Asha’s question. “I believe this because I have seen it. And because…I love her.”

This time the astonishment on the female Mage’s face was plain enough that Mari could see it with no trouble. Then the amazement vanished, replaced by a hint of clear sorrow. “Mage Alain, you have lost your wisdom.”

“No, Mage Asha, I have found a new wisdom.”

“You were a strong Mage. Your powers have been lost.”

Alain shook his head. “My powers remain.”

The female Mage regarded him for a long time before speaking again. “You do not lie. What you say should not be possible, according to what we were taught.”

“What we were taught is wrong.”

To Mari’s surprise, Asha looked at her again. This time she addressed her directly. “Mechanic, what is your purpose with the Mage Alain?”

Mari took a deep breath, amazed to be discussing her private feelings with a female Mage. “I love him. He loves me. We want to be with each other, to protect and help each other, to do some important things, to make each other happy.”

“That is not possible,” Asha said, without feeling yet conveying distress.

Looking at her, Mari had a growing feeling that the female Mage was bewildered, trying to understand what she was being told and unable to grasp it.

Alain reached to touch Mari’s hand. “This Mechanic faced and slew the dragon sent against me, else I would have died under its claws. She has saved my life more than once, at the risk of her own.”

“That was a mighty dragon,” Asha said without feeling. “You did this for Mage Alain, Mechanic?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I told you,” Mari said. “I love him. I may marry him. Maybe. But I won’t let anyone hurt him.”

Asha stared at Mari for a while, her face once again betraying no emotions. “When we were acolytes, newly come to the Mage Guild Hall in Ihris, Mage Alain once tried to catch me as I fell. He was punished for this.” Her gaze went to Alain. “We talked. In the first days. Before such things were driven from us. He was…he could have been…someone…”

“A friend,” Alain said.

“Friend.” Asha seemed to be looking inward now, as if searching for memories lost in time. “What does this mean?”

Alain’s voice took on more feeling. “It is someone who helps.”

“Helps?” Asha suddenly inhaled strongly. “I remember. When all else was gone…Alain…helps…helped…me.”

“We were taught to forget this,” Alain said. “Master Mechanic Mari reminded me of what it meant. She has reminded me of many things. She must do something of great importance. Will you help me now, Mage Asha?”

Her gaze rested on Alain, then went back to Mari. “This Mechanic helps Mage Alain. I will help, too. I will not betray you to the Guild, Mage Alain.”

Alain bowed toward her. “Thank you, Mage Asha.”

Mari saw the female Mage blink in momentary confusion. “I had not remembered those words. Did she teach you them?”

“Yes.”

“She has saved your life,” Asha said dispassionately.

“Many times.”

Mage Asha turned back to Mari, then tried to speak, her lips struggling to form words that seemed stuck inside her. “Th…Th…”

“Uh…you’re welcome.” Mari spread her hands, feeling awkward and uncertain. She had felt tears starting as Asha tried to speak words which had been forbidden to her. What had it been like for Asha? Close enough to see her well now, Mari could spot on Asha’s face the marks of the same kinds of treatment that Alain bore. Old scars and other signs of the harsh teachings that Alain rarely spoke of. This woman had suffered just as Alain had. “Thank you, Mage Asha, for being a friend to Mage Alain.”

“Friend?” Asha gazed into the distance. “I have not heard that word for so long a time, Mechanic. I have no friend.”

“Yes, you do,” Mari said impulsively. “You’ve got Alain. He’s your friend. He’s told me about you, and he thinks about you and he…he cares about you, I think. And…and if you want…you have me. Any friend of Alain’s is a friend of mine. My name is Mari.”

Those brilliant blue eyes pinned her. “Mari. This is what Mage Alain calls you?”

“Yes.”

“You have saved his life before, but he may yet die because of you.”

“I know.” Mari’s words came out in a miserable whisper this time.

“Yet he chose you over the wisdom he and I were taught.” Asha reached out very slowly with one hand, until her finger pressed lightly against Mari’s cheek for a moment. “If you are no longer a shadow to Mage Alain, then I will try to see you differently…Mari. I will find out what I can of the Guild’s plans for Mage Alain, and give what warning I may. If Mechanic Mari can face a dragon for the sake of protecting Mage Alain, I can scarcely do less.” She turned those brilliant blue eyes on Alain, the ends of her blond hair swinging around her hips as her head moved. “I will do what I can for Mage Alain.”

Mari hoped the jealous feelings that hit her again didn’t show.

Asha turned back to Mari. “I have much to think on. I have been taught that all is false, and that Mechanics are doubly false. Yet I see no lie in you or in Alain when he speaks of you. Will you betray Mage Alain?”

“I’ll die before I do that,” Mari replied.

“I see that again you do not speak falsely. There is much I must consider. A different wisdom. Now I must go. Other Mages in this city might wonder why I linger here and sense Mage Alain near me. I will find out what I can, then I will seek Mage Alain wherever he may be.” With another long look at Alain, the female Mage walked away without any word of farewell, quickly disappearing among the foliage.

Alain stared in the direction Asha had gone. “I had not known she remembered my trying to catch her.”

Feeling awkward, Mari cleared her throat. “How old were you?”

“It was within a few days of arriving at the Guild Hall. I was still five years old.”

“So Asha was seven?”

“I believe so.”

She could stay jealous of that gorgeous female Mage, or she could accept that Asha could be Alain’s friend. “I’m not surprised you tried to help. Even when we first met, you still managed to remember what help meant.”

Alain looked downward, his face revealing some distress to Mari. “I find I have doubts of Asha, worries that I cannot trust her. She does not remember what trust means.”

I’m glad you said that and not me. I’m already feeling too catty as it is. “You could be trusted before you remembered that word.”

Alain gazed in the direction the female Mage had gone. “Perhaps Asha will remember feelings.”

“Yeah,” Mari said. “She apparently already remembers feelings about you. What were these talks you and she both recall?”

“A few words, in moments when we were not watched by Mages or older acolytes.” Alain looked down, his gaze distant with memory. “The only traces of companionship we had in those first months, before we learned to deal with feeling nothing. Before that, when I despaired, her words gave me hope.”

Mari thought Alain sounded regretful but also resigned, as if speaking of something which might have been but was forever lost. “You didn’t love her? Even a little?”

Alain glanced at Mari. “I was too young to think of such things. I had no sister, but I felt as if she were one.”

“A sister? You think of a woman that gorgeous as a sister, but you fell in love with me?”

“You are more beautiful than Asha. I see this inside of you as well as outside.”

Mari shook her head. “Have I told you that you sound totally crazy sometimes? You expect me to believe that she never lit any fires in you, and I did?”

“Yes,” Alain replied, his tone faintly bewildered as he looked at her. “Asha never changed the way I saw things, as you have.”

That reminded her of something. “What did you tell her about me? That I define your world or something? I couldn’t believe you said that.”

Alain nodded. “You define the world I see. Yes. I needed to explain what you mean to me in terms another Mage would understand.”

Mari could feel her lips quivering but tried to fight off laughter. “Alain, I ‘define the world’ for you? That’s too much.”

“Too much?”

“It’s so sweet, it’s nauseating.”

Alain pondered her words. “What is wrong with that statement? I see the false world through my own illusions. You are now my reference for those illusions. Why should that make you feel ill? You define the world I see.”

Maybe it was relief that the meeting with Asha had gone well, or at least had not turned into an ambush. Maybe it was also relief that Asha and Alain hadn’t betrayed any romantic feelings for each other—not that they had betrayed many feelings of any sort. Maybe it was Alain’s apparently sincere inability to see how his words sounded to someone who wasn’t a Mage. Whatever it was, Mari couldn’t stop it any more, breaking into open laughter. “I can’t stand it. Oh, Alain. It’s just…just…sickening!” Mari kept laughing all the way out of the park.

The long walk to the home of Professor S’san gave Mari time to sober up except for an occasional giggle, which appeared to be a relief to her companion. “Alain, you do know that I never laugh at you, right? I always think of it as us sharing a joke.”

Alain had a serious expression as he nodded. “This is part of what love means, is it not? To share things? But sometimes I do not understand why you find something humorous. Is that also part of love? To not understand everything about the one you love?”

“My Mage,” Mari said, “truer words were never spoken.”

Mari’s former teacher lived on a hill in an apartment facing the waters of Lake Bellad. The building itself looked to be a little more than a century old, but that could be deceptive, since the simple, clean lines of its two stories and balconies facing the lake were of a style which had been used off and on for hundreds of years. From the top of the hill, those on the balconies could look down across the rooftops of a stretch of Severun until the lake’s bright blue waters began. The surface of the vast lake continued on to the horizon, vanishing into a gray haze in the distance.

“Nice spot,” Mari commented. “Professor S’san used to talk about Lake Bellad sometimes. She really liked Severun, so I wasn’t surprised when I found out she had retired here. That she had retired was a surprise, but not that she came here afterwards. No, the odd thing is that she’s not living in the retirement area of the Severun Guild Hall. There aren’t many Mechanics who live among commons when they retire.”

“They are like Mages, then?” Alain asked. “Elders live in the Mage Guild Halls until they pass from this dream.”

“Right.” Mari looked around, evaluating the neighborhood. “This looks like a decent area to live in, but still, it’s odd. Why choose to live here after spending your entire life in a Guild Hall? It’s lucky for us, though. If Professor S’san had chosen to retire inside a Guild Hall, with no reason to go outside it, then talking to her might have been impossible.”

“Perhaps that is why she chose to live here instead of in a Guild Hall,” Alain suggested.

“But that would mean…that Professor S’san expected me, or other Mechanics, to need to talk to her without the Senior Mechanics knowing. Alain, can you see any sign of danger?”

Alain shook his head, looking around carefully. The neighborhood was a quiet one, with little foot or wagon traffic at midday. “I can sense no Mages near. Neither my eyes nor my foresight warn of danger.”

“I can’t see any sign that my Guild is watching the place, either. The bureaucratic wheels inside the Mechanics Guild leadership must still be turning slowly, and haven’t gotten around to tracking my former teachers.”

Inside the building, they went up the single staircase and then walked along a narrow corridor lined with doors until they reached the apartment with the number Mari was seeking. “I don’t know how she’ll react to you, Alain, but Professor S’san always struck me as smart and open-minded.”

“I can pretend to be a common.”

Mari hesitated, then shook her head firmly. “No. I’m not ashamed of you. If Professor S’san is the person I think she is, she’ll accept you. If she doesn’t accept you, that’s her loss.”

Mari knocked, waiting.

“You are worried,” Alain murmured.

“Not worried. Nervous.” Before Mari could say anything else, footsteps sounded, then the door opened and an older but still vigorous woman dressed in casual clothing and a Mechanics jacket looked out.

Professor S’san rested her eyes on Mari, not speaking for several seconds, then nodded. “Mari. This is a surprise.”

Mari felt a strange combination of affection, respect and anger as she gazed at her old teacher. “I thought for once that somebody besides me ought to be surprised.”

S’san twisted her lips in an ambiguous expression, then focused on Alain. “And who is this?”

“The only reason I lived long enough to get here.”

Professor S’san nodded once more, looking unhappy. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that way, Mari. You know that there is an arrest order out for you?”

“Yes.”

“I have no intention of acting on that order, Mari. Please come inside, if you still trust me enough to accept my hospitality.”

Mari nodded, beckoning Alain to follow. The apartment wasn’t spacious, but Mari saw that Professor S’san had set it up to mimic her old offices at the Mechanics Guild Academy. A desk dominated one side of the living area, facing a couple of comfortable chairs and a sofa. Beyond the sofa lay a small kitchen with a coal-fired stove for cooking and heat, and past that a door doubtless leading to the bedroom. Just as in S’san’s old office, everything was in subdued earth tones, with straightforward lines and angles rather than elaborate decoration. Missing from the walls, though, were the Mechanics Guild citations and technical drawings which the professor had once displayed. In their place, the apartment walls held only a few paintings showing the ancient port of Landfall and some ships at sea with all sails set.

Mari stood stiffly in the center of the living area, realizing that faced with her old teacher she had fallen right back into her habits as a student.

S’san gestured toward the sofa. “Please sit, you and your nameless companion.”

“His name is Alain,” Mari said.

“Just Alain? A common, then? A hired bodyguard?”

“He’s not a common and he hasn’t been hired!” Mari replied, her voice sharp.

S’san raised her eyebrows at Mari. “Did I insult you, or him?”

“No. Not exactly. But…how much can I trust you, Professor?”

S’san sighed heavily. “That hurts a great deal, Mari. Not that you asked the question, for you have every right to do so. No, what hurts is that you have cause to wonder whether you can trust me or anyone else in the Guild. I am ashamed and angry that it came to that.” She met Mari’s eyes. “I will not betray you, Mari. I may have held some things back, but I will never lie to you or knowingly allow you to come to harm.”

Mari felt some of the weight come off of her, but found herself glancing at Alain.

“She does not lie,” Alain said.

S’san’s eyes glinted with anger. “I am not accustomed to having my word questioned or the accuracy of my statements evaluated by people unknown to me.”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Mari said. “After everything that has happened, I don’t know who to trust anymore. But I know I can trust Alain.”

“And what makes this Alain such an expert on the subject of truth and lies?” S’san asked, her voice sharp.

Mari felt herself quailing under the disapproval of her old instructor, but stiffened her resolve. “I’ll introduce you, and that will provide your answer. Professor S’san, this is my friend and companion, Mage Alain of Ihris.”

A long silence stretched, then S’san took a couple of steps closer to Alain, studying his face. “A Mage? You show more feeling than I would expect.”

Alain nodded slightly. “Mari has reawakened my feelings.”

“Oh?” S’san fixed a demanding look on Mari. “What sort of feelings?”

“We’re in love,” Mari replied. “Don’t give me that look, Professor! This Mage, this man, has risked his life for me more than once and saved my life more than once. While the Senior Mechanics and others were plotting my death, this Mage stood beside me and protected me and stayed true to me.”

Her old professor nodded abruptly. “It’s not my place to judge personal decisions, Mari, but I will suggest that you avoid taking any impulsive steps. The odds are very much against it, but the Mechanics Guild may yet be persuaded to reinstate you. This all may perhaps be fixed, but not if you are consorting with a Mage.”

“I trust this Mage,” Mari said, putting all the resolve she could into those words. “I do not trust my Guild anymore. If I have to make a choice, I’ll stick with Alain.”

“You can’t make decisions like that based on emotions.”

She had never imagined talking back to S’san, but Mari did it now. “You sound just like a Mage yourself.”

“You’d certainly know, wouldn’t you?” S’san retorted.

“Yes, I would! Because I refused to accept what I had been told, I examined the problem, and I did my best to find out the underlying truth! Isn’t that what you taught me to do?”

S’san gave Mari a hard look, then nodded. She went to the door giving way onto the balcony, testing it to ensure it was closed and locked, then sat down, her expression changing to distress. “Yes, I did. I thought that would be for the best, for both you and for the Guild. Your professor failed.”

“You…” Her emotions tangled, Mari finally sat as well, beckoning Alain to join her on the couch. “Professor, I need to know what happened and why.”

“You have a right to that,” S’san agreed. “But there are things we shouldn’t discuss in front of a Mage, Mari. His Guild is an enemy of our Guild.”

“I no longer hold any allegiance to the Mage Guild,” Alain replied. “I follow Lady Mari.”

Mari nodded, feeling pride mingled with her anguish. “My Mage is threatened with death by his own Guild, his former Guild, professor. His loyalty is to me.”

“Your Mage?” S’san sat back and laughed shortly. “You continue to amaze me, Mari.” She watched Alain again. “Has he told you any of his Guild’s secrets?”

“Yes. He’s told me and…another Mechanic.”

“Interesting. And wise of you not to name this other Mechanic. If I don’t know who he or she is, I can’t be forced to reveal their name.”

“Professor, Mage spells really work,” Mari said. “You must have known that as well as I do now.”

“Of course I did. I’m not one of those fools who think that by ignoring reality you can make it go away. Though I suppose that’s a weak argument in the eyes of a Mage.”

Alain shook his head at S’san. “What you call reality does not exist. A Mage does not ignore anything. A Mage places a smaller illusion over the greater illusion.”

To Mari’s surprise, her old professor actually smiled at Alain’s remark. “You make it sound very simple, Mage. Excuse me, Sir Mage.”

“It is simple in idea, Elder,” Alain replied, “but very complex to apply. Achieving the ability takes much work and concentration.”

S’san’s eyebrows rose. “Elder? Isn’t that a term of respect among Mages?”

“Yes, Elder. Lady Mari has spoken often of you to me.”

Another smile. “Has she spoken of the Mechanic arts to you?”

“Yes.” Alain made a frustrated gesture. “She has tried to explain some things, and I have seen her at work. But I cannot understand how her arts work. They are very mysterious and complex, and endure much longer than any Mage spell.”

“Mysterious?” S’san glanced at Mari.

Mari nodded. “He can’t even figure out how to use a screwdriver, Professor. Something about Mage training makes them incapable of grasping the sort of things we do. But he can do things I can’t even imagine being able to accomplish.”

“Interesting.” S’san looked back at Alain. “You say the works of Mages cannot last a long time?”

“That is so,” Alain said. “A spell lasts only so long as concentration, strength, and power endure. Then the illusion returns to its prior state.”

S’san nodded thoughtfully. “Hmmm. Like an electric light. Shut off the current, and there is no sign it ever gave off illumination. That explains some things. One of the arguments used by the Mechanics Guild to claim that Mages are frauds is that it is impossible to point to any artifacts, to any permanent changes created by them. I had wondered at this myself. Mari, I wish I had a few weeks to pick the brain of this young man.”

“But why hasn’t the Guild already done that?” Mari demanded. She glanced out the window looking toward the lake, wondering how much warning they would have if the Guild were watching them here and preparing to charge in to arrest her. All she could do was hope that Alain’s foresight would provide some notice of the danger. “Why hasn’t the Mechanics Guild tried to understand how Mages work, instead of insisting that they are frauds against all of the evidence?”

“Why haven’t I done it? Because no Mage would speak to me. Why hasn’t the Guild ever done more? Because, Mari, they’re avoiding that which they cannot explain.” S’san gave Alain another long look. “Our technology cannot explain what the Mages do. There are two ways to respond to that. One way would be to research and to study, to learn more, to expand our knowledge or at least admit that there are things currently beyond our understanding. But the Mechanics Guild has clung to power for this long by refusing to allow new research and controlling all technology. I don’t know how the initial decisions about the Mages were made all those centuries ago, but it’s easy enough to guess. Our Guild leaders back then decided that what they couldn’t understand—the Mages—couldn’t be allowed to exist. But the Guild couldn’t destroy the Mages. Oh, it tried. That surprises you? Yes, there was open fighting at one time. I know that much. But the Mages couldn’t be wiped out of existence, so eventually the Guild decided to pretend they didn’t exist. It’s been that way for I don’t know how long.”

Mari gripped the arm of the sofa. “Why did you tell me the Mages were fakes?”

S’san shook her head. “I never told you they were fakes, Mari.”

“You didn’t?” Mari frowned, thinking back. “No. You didn’t, did you? A lot of other Mechanics did, but you never talked about that, and when somebody else did, you didn’t comment on it. But then why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“I was trying to protect you.” The professor took a deep breath, seeming to shrink in on herself as she exhaled. “How many lies could I expose without dooming you, Mari? You had to learn gradually, like other Mechanics do. I knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with official explanations, that you would be smart enough to navigate the dangers of learning the truth.” S’san’s gaze sharpened again. “At least, I thought you’d be smart enough.”

“My smarts were busy trying to keep me alive,” Mari shot back. “Despite the best efforts of the Senior Mechanics, I did manage to stay alive.”

“Do not doubt that I am very grateful for that,” S’san murmured, looking away. “Mari, I honestly did not know the lengths to which the Senior Mechanics would go. I feared you might be sent into dangerous situations, but no more so than any other Mechanic. I never suspected that you would be deliberately exposed to peril by setting you up to be kidnapped on that caravan to Ringhmon—”

“What?” Mari leaned forward, her body rigid. “Deliberately? The Guild wanted me to be kidnapped?”

S’san nodded, her expression hardening into anger. “They kept it very secret, but the Guild leadership had some knowledge of what Ringhmon was up to. They wanted to hammer that city, but claimed they needed more proof. So you were set up, placed in that caravan, alone, with the full knowledge of Ringhmon, bait for the commons who would see you as an irresistible target.”

“Bait?” Mari’s ears were buzzing as she stared at S’san in shock. “My Guild used me as bait?”

“Yes. I did not know, Mari. I swear it.”

“She speaks the truth,” Alain said.

Mari reached to grasp his arm with her free hand, grateful for that confirmation even through her growing outrage. “They wanted Ringhmon to kidnap me, to kill me, to give them the evidence they needed to put the city under an interdict. Stars above, Professor, no wonder the Guild Hall supervisor in Ringhmon was so unhappy with me! I wasn’t playing my role!” Mari knew her voice was rising, but she kept talking. “I hadn’t let myself be kidnapped! Or killed! When I was captured I escaped! I wasn’t cooperating with the Guild’s plans at all! The Guild wanted my dead body!”

“Mari—” Professor S’san began.

But Mari kept talking, overriding her professor, something she would never have imagined doing not long ago. “I trusted the Guild! I was loyal to the Guild! I never would have done anything against its interests. Yet the Guild was willing to sacrifice me like a cheap game token. If it hadn’t been for Alain…” She looked over at him. “How’s that for irony? My Guild’s own actions led me to know a Mage, and to learn some of the truth behind my Guild’s lies. I suppose I should be grateful that they tried to use me as bait. Otherwise I might have spent many years laboring loyally for people who deserve no loyalty.”

S’san nodded in the silence that followed Mari’s outburst. “You have every right to be angry, to feel betrayed. You were betrayed. The Guild didn’t need your body as evidence of wrongdoing by Ringhmon. The Guild doesn’t need any evidence to do whatever it wants. But it offered a way to get rid of someone who worried the Senior Mechanics.”

“Why?” Mari demanded. “Why did I worry the Senior Mechanics? What did I do?”

“You did nothing except what any loyal Mechanic should do. What worried the Senior Mechanics was what you were: smart, with an agile mind, a natural leader who acquires followers the way most people pick up spare change. They feared that over time you would gain enough strength to challenge them, to challenge the way they believe the Guild must be run. That’s why the Senior Mechanics tried to get rid of you in a way that would tar the commons with the guilt for your death, turning your death into a reason for anyone sympathetic to you to become more loyal to the Guild and also reinforce support for maintaining a hard line against allowing any change. Never forget that most of the Senior Mechanics are certain that they are right, and that makes them willing to do anything that they believe to be necessary.”

The professor bent her head toward Mari. “I am very sorry, Mari. If I had known, I would have warned you. I swear it, though perhaps you have little faith now in my own vows as well.”

Mari sat without speaking, emotions tumbling through her, finally fixing on one thing she could be sure of. “You didn’t have to admit that to me, what the Guild had done. But you did. You’re too honest for your own good, Professor.”

S’san nodded somberly. “Perhaps. You and I probably share that fault. Did you wonder why I had retired?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Once word got out of what the plan had been,” S’san explained, “there was quite a blow-up among the senior ranks of the Guild. Some, such as myself, were appalled. All too many others were willing to excuse the betrayal of you as necessary for the good of the Guild. I was outvoted, to put it mildly. But everyone in the senior ranks knew that if the rank-and-file Mechanics heard the truth, there would be very serious consequences. Most of them would be shocked by the betrayal. So, I was given the choice of retirement here, in exchange for swearing to say nothing, or retirement in a cell in Longfalls. I chose here, where I have been discreetly trying to find out where you were, and trying to come up with an idea to help you, though nothing has come to me.”

S’san covered her face with both hands. “I don’t consider myself bound by oaths forced under duress, so I’m telling you the truth, but I have failed you, and I failed my Guild. Its current leaders are too shortsighted, too ruthless. We cannot continue doing the same things, but they refuse to change. Perhaps we are all doomed.”

Mari didn’t know what to say, finally looking helplessly at Alain.

The Mage had been watching S’san. “It is not hopeless. A new day can come to this world.”

“A Mage offers hope?” S’san laughed harshly. “It’s come to that.”

“Professor,” Mari said, “the reason I didn’t die at Ringhmon, the reason the kidnap plot failed, the reason I was able to escape when the commons in Ringhmon imprisoned me, was because of this Mage.”

“Indeed?” S’san sat up a little straighter, intrigued. “I had heard something about a Mage, but as someone tangential to everything that occurred in Ringhmon.”

“He was central to it all,” Mari said. “I’m sure you understand why I didn’t report that to my superiors. I could scarcely tell them that a Mage had helped me escape from the dungeon under the city hall and helped me burn the place down.”

“He helped you escape from a dungeon? How very romantic.”

“Yes. That’s…probably when I started falling in love with him.”

“In love.” S’san bent a skeptical look on Alain. “And when did you start falling in love with Mari?”

“I have thought on this,” Alain said, “and decided it began when first I met her, but I did not understand what was happening to me until after she threw me out a window.”

“She threw you out a window?” The professor shook her head. “Mari has always been fairly awkward around boys, but throwing one through a window is a bit much even for her. Still, I suppose that might have been what was necessary to get the attention of a Mage.”

Alain nodded. “It did get my attention. I should add that Mari was saving my life when she did that.”

“Men tend to like that in women.” S’san raised an eyebrow at Mari. “I told you that you impress people. Even a Mage found you memorable the first time you met.”

“The first time we met,” Alain added, “Mari was preparing to…what is the word? Preparing to shoot me.”

“He was a Mage,” Mari said. “I wasn’t exactly looking at him as boyfriend material back then.”

“I see,” S’san replied. “Mari, most girls trying to discourage a boy wouldn’t go so far as to shoot him and throw him out a window.”

“It didn’t work, anyway,” Mari said, torn between irritation and fascination at the way Alain and S’san were almost joking about her. The last thing she had expected was for S’san and Alain to not just get along but actually seem to have some kind of rapport.

“It’s just as well,” S’san observed. “I was worried for a while that you might end up with Professor T’mos, but as I expected you dodged that bullet.”

Mari felt heat in her face and wondered how badly she was blushing. “Professor T’mos? He was at least twenty years older than me. He could’ve been my father!”

“Wiser women than you have looked for second fathers when they should have been looking for partners,” S’san said. “And more than one older man has looked for a girl they could regulate rather than a woman who could partner them. It was very foolish of T’mos to think that Mari of Caer Lyn could be regulated by anyone, but T’mos always did let his ego override what intellect he possesses. What happened after you threw this young man out a window?”

“We stayed in touch, and after Ringhmon Alain helped me clean up the mess in Dorcastle, though as far as I know the Senior Mechanics have never realized his role in that.”

“The Mage was at Dorcastle, too?” S’san was thinking, her eyes intent. “The Guild has been busy seeking some mysterious other Mechanic they believe assisted you there despite your denials. The Guild Hall at Dorcastle has been turned upside down seeking the guilty party, and the maltreatment of anyone believed sympathetic to you is of course backfiring against the Guild leaders.”

Mari felt another one of those pangs of guilt. “People shouldn’t be suffering because of me.”

“That sort of sentiment is why you make a good leader and why people follow you. Unfortunately, Mari, there’s nothing you can do to help them at this time.” S’san made a face. “I heard that you had disappeared from Edinton. What made you decide to run?”

“I was ordered to Tiae,” Mari said, surprised that she could it so calmly. “On my own.”

“Tiae? Alone?” S’san shook her head angrily. “Smart girl. You wouldn’t fall for being sent into danger twice. But now the Guild is seeking you. At least they haven’t called out the assassins.”

“Assassins?” Mari asked.

“Yes. I know little about them, except that they exist.” S’san paused to think. “I can understand your fears, but from what I’ve been able to find out the Senior Mechanics aren’t trying to kill you now, Mari. At one time they wanted you to be killed by someone else, but now they want you alive. Safely in their custody, but alive, so that they can question you, find out what you’re doing, who your friends are, and what plots might be underway.”

“Plots?” Mari demanded.

“Oh, yes, Mari, they assume that you are out to overthrow them and seize control of the Guild.”

It took Mari a few moments to realize that she was staring at S’san, her mouth hanging open with shock. Mari managed to bring her jaw up again, but her voice was strident with disbelief. “I have never sought power. I have never—”

S’san was shaking her head again. “Mari, what matters isn’t what you think or are planning right now, it’s what the Guild’s leaders believe you are thinking and planning.”

“Yes,” Alain said. “Your professor speaks wisdom. The illusion your Guild leaders see is what guides their actions.”

“You have a fine mind, Sir Mage,” S’san approved. “That’s a very good way of putting it.”

“You know,” Mari said in steadily rising tones, “I was hoping that you two would get along, but I didn’t expect you to gang up on me!”

“Mari.” S’san had leaned forward, her old posture as an instructor. “I’m trying to help you identify the problem and come up with solutions. The first priority, as you have already concluded, is keeping yourself free and alive. But that, at best, maintains the current situation. What do we need for a solution?”

“A clear understanding of the problem,” Mari replied, feeling as if she were back at the academy.

“Exactly.”

“The Guild is lying,” Mari continued. “Lying about Mages. It’s also lying about or denying the existence of non-Mechanics who can do Mechanic work.”

“That’s true,” S’san agreed. “You ran into them at Dorcastle. You were doubtless placed under an interdict to say nothing about them. And, being you, you kept digging.”

“They tried to recruit me,” Mari reported. “In Pandin. They call themselves the Order.”

“Oh, yes, the Order. It’s been a good while since I heard that name spoken openly.” S’san cocked a questioning eyebrow at Mari. “And they failed, I assume.”

“They’re evil, Professor, using the Mechanic arts purely for personal gain.” Mari paused, a new thought coming to her.

S’san saw it. “Have you connected the dots, Mari? Did you consider the differences between the Order and the Senior Mechanics who run the Guild, and realize that at the current time the difference is purely one of scale? Oh, the Senior Mechanics claim they’re controlling technology and limiting it and charging as much as possible for it for the good of all, and many sincerely believe that to be so, but somehow ‘the good of all’ translates into wealth and power for them. They don’t want to risk losing that. I imagine that is very different from your Mage elders,” she said to Alain.

Alain shook his head. “An elder told me that most of the Mage elders seek only to preserve their own power, and will ignore or battle anything which threatens that power.”

“That shouldn’t surprise me,” S’san said. “Mage elders are as human as the rest of us, it seems. In any event, Mari, the Order is much smaller than the Guild. Its members live like rats in the woodwork, impossible to eradicate but constantly being hunted and slain.”

Alain nodded. “If they were strong enough, they would make their presence known openly, and your Guild could do nothing.”

“Exactly, but they’ll never reach that kind of strength.” S’san spent a moment looking closely at Alain. “Mari did choose someone with a mind as sharp as hers, though different it seems. But you’re as young as she is, surely.”

“I recently turned eighteen.”

“Impressive.” The professor settled back again. “I suppose you’ve come here looking for answers, Mari.”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “What is happening, Professor, and why have I been targeted by the Senior Mechanics?”

“It’s very simple, really, and yet also very complex. Mari, how do you keep a system totally stable and unvarying?”

“Totally stable and unvarying?” Mari shook her head. “You can’t. There’s wear and tear. You need to repair and replace. You can’t just maintain it in the same shape with the same components forever.”

“It’s like a living organism in that way,” S’san agreed. “What happens to a living organism that stops growing? It dies. The Mechanics Guild has been dedicating its efforts to keeping everything exactly the same. It wouldn’t allow change or growth. And so, for centuries, it has been slowly dying. You remember the ancient far-talker I once showed you? It was much lighter, smaller, and when it still worked it was far more capable that anything the Guild makes today. That is an example. The technology that lets us build such a device is crumbling, so the Guild is forced to use ever-cruder methods to try to achieve the same results. The tools to make the tools are failing. Keeping them working would require innovation, and as you are painfully aware, innovation is not permitted.”

“But they can’t possibly believe such a system can continue,” Mari insisted.

“My dear child, that system has continued for century upon century. How do you convince them that it’s going to fail when they can argue that it has yet to fail? It would be like arguing that the sun is not going to rise tomorrow. The sun always rises.”

“The Mechanics Guild must have been different once,” Mari said. “How did we ever get the technology we have? At one time, and for a long time, the Guild must have encouraged trying new things.”

S’san made a frustrated gesture with one hand, as if she were trying to grab an answer out the air. “That’s so, but I have never seen any trace or evidence of that period. All record of it has vanished from the minds and the documentation of Mechanics and commons alike.” She glanced at Alain. “Do the Mages know anything of such a time?”

“No,” Alain said. “I have never heard or read in Mage Guild records any account of a time different from now. As I have told Mari, though, the history we share begins with a strange abruptness, the first cities springing to life as if from nothing. I do not know the meaning of this.”

“You’re also not the first to make note of it, Mage, though I am pleased that you have seen and thought about the issue.” S’san sighed, looking weary. “I never found the answer, and I now suspect no answer is to be found through any available means. My hope for you, Mari, was that you would gain approval or authority to pry open the vaults in the Mechanics Guild headquarters and use the forbidden technical texts in there to jumpstart the Guild.”

Mari had to take a moment to understand that statement. “Open the vaults? How would I ever have the power to open the vaults?”

“If you worked your way up, achieved a high-enough standing and accumulated enough allies—both of which were well within your abilities—then you could have achieved such power.” Professor S’san made an angry gesture this time, her hand slashing through the air. “You weren’t given the opportunity. I was quite upset with you at first, Mari, believing that you had gone tearing off in the wrong direction and burned every bridge out of sheer stubbornness and impulsiveness, but I practice what I preach when it comes to thinking. I looked into everything as best I could, and it became obvious that the Senior Mechanics had also seen your potential, seen it well enough to decide them to eliminate you before you threatened their hold on the Guild, before you threatened to cause the change they now fear more than destruction.”

S’san let out a long, sad sigh. “You were trapped, Mari. I am astounded that you managed to escape with your life. And I am guilty of not anticipating that you would face such perils.”

“You were obviously worried about me,” Mari said quietly, opening her coat to show the pistol she wore.

“You’ve still got it? Good.” S’san shook her head. “I wasn’t worried enough.” Her eyes rested on Alain. “And this is a further complication. Mari, things are very bad with the Guild right now, but fixing the situation is not impossible. You do need to stay out of sight while your friends work on it. However, I don’t know of any way the Guild will ever accept the idea of your companioning with a Mage.”

Mari felt a flare of anger. “He’s not just my companion! I love him! And he loves me!”

“Love?” S’san looked away. “Mari, I don’t doubt your sincerity, and he may use the word, but what does a Mage know of love?”

Alain answered before Mari could. “It means she is my world. It means nothing is more important. It means I will die before I let her be harmed.”

S’san gave Alain one of those demanding looks Mari remembered so well from her classes. “Do you love her enough to leave her, if that is in her best interests?”

“Professor—!” Mari began.

“Let him answer, Mari.”

“My own feelings are not as important as her safety,” Alain said. “That is why I left her at Dorcastle even though I wanted to be with her. To try to protect her.”

Mari turned a triumphant look on S’san. “See, Professor? He knows what it means.”

“Yes, he does,” S’san murmured in a thoughtful voice. “What have you done, Mari? Well, would you leave him?”

“No.”

“The Guild—”

“To blazes with the Guild! I will not leave the man I love to try to make nice with a bunch of Senior Mechanics who have already tried to have me killed!”

S’san looked at Alain again. “How do your Guild leaders feel about all of this, Sir Mage? Mari said you had been threatened with death?”

“That is not quite accurate,” Alain replied dispassionately. “The elders of the Mage Guild do not make threats. Another Mage could easily tell whether the threat was one they intended to follow through on, or simply an attempt to intimidate. The decision must have been made that I am a danger to the Guild, and since then they have tried to kill me more than once. The last attempt involved a Roc.”

“It’s a giant bird that Mages can create,” Mari explained. “Big enough for a person to ride. I know it’s impossible, but I saw it. It tried to kill both of us.”

“A giant bird.” S’san nodded. “I’ve seen a few, Mari. One of those things Mechanics aren’t supposed to admit to seeing. They’re lovely, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, when they’re not trying to kill you. Professor, what was the end game here? You just wanted me to fix the Guild?”

“That’s enough, isn’t it? As the Mechanic Guild’s abilities decline so does its strength, and with that goes the stability of the world. You must have heard about some of the things going on, the commons increasingly restive. Do you want all of Dematr to end up like Tiae? That’s what happens when the Guild leaves commons to their own choices.”

“Are those the only alternatives?” Mari demanded. “Things as they are or else anarchy? Have you ever walked among the commons as if you were one of them, Professor? They’re very unhappy. They hate their overlords, and that means us. Many of the commons I’ve met seem to be decent people, better than the Mechanics Guild leaders, anyway. And the flat-out denial of truth by our Guild is indefensible.”

“Stars above, Mari, what are you thinking?” S’san asked. “I wanted you to strengthen the Guild because the Guild is what holds this world together.”

“The Guild holds the world in chains!” Mari erupted. “We’ve been talking about how trying to keep technology under control is slowly killing the Guild by causing its technology to crumble. Can’t you see the same is true of the wider world? Yes, the Kingdom of Tiae fell apart in a series of civil wars and remains in chaos. But that was because the Guild’s system failed there and the system doesn’t know how to fix it, so Tiae just keeps falling farther into barbarism every year. How long before the same problems start causing the Confederation to crumble, and then the Alliance and someday the Empire? The Guild has tried to keep the entire world the same, unchanging, and the world is choking to death!” She stopped, startled by her own words. “I guess I am a traitor to the Guild now.”

S’san’s voice was troubled. “The Mechanics Guild has done many things I don’t approve of, but this world is the devil we know. Anything else could easily be far worse.”

“Mari, may I speak of the storm to come?” Alain asked.

“Uh…sure,” Mari said, not certain what he meant.

“The storm moves toward us swiftly,” Alain told S’san. “You speak as if the available possibilities include the Mechanics Guild remaining in power. This is not so. Within a few years, order will begin to collapse everywhere. The Mage Guild and the Mechanics Guild will be destroyed along with everything else, unable to stand against the fury of forces pent-up for too long.”

S’san looked at Alain, startled. “You are predicting the end of the world?”

“The end of the world as it is known,” Alain said, his unemotional tone of voice contrasting oddly with the dire nature of his words. “The destruction of almost all that exists, and the death of many, many of those who now live. I have seen this, as have other Mages.”

Mari managed not to reveal her surprise. She and Alain had discussed the troubled state of the world, and he had described the looming danger as a storm before, but why had he never mentioned having foreseen this storm of devastation? And why had he asked her permission to bring it up now as if it was something she already knew about? But that was something to ask about later. “Professor,” Mari said, “if you believe this is the best possible world, then why did you want to change things? Because you did. You had no idea exactly what would happen, but you encouraged me to think in ways that would lead to a change in the way things are. There’s no telling what releasing that banned technology would do to this world. Why did you hope for that if you think change is wrong?”

S’san sat without speaking for a long time, before finally shaking her head. “I always said you were a great student, Mari. Now you’ve caught your teacher in an error. I did try to have it both ways, didn’t I?” After another long pause, Professor S’san shrugged. “Not that it matters anymore. The vaults of the Mechanic Guild won’t be accessible to you now, Mari. Without that lever to accomplish change, I don’t know what one person can do.”

Alain spoke into the silence that followed. “One person can lead many others.”

“Ah, yes,” S’san said. “Mari already has a Mage. That’s something the world has never seen, a Mage and a Mechanic working together. I’m sure that’s something that your Guild never claimed to have predicted,” she told Alain with a sardonic smile.

“It was in the prophecy,” Alain said. “That one would unite Mages, Mechanics, and commons in one cause.”

“The prophecy?” S’san asked. “Which one?”

Alain looked at her, apparently asking permission again, but Mari shook her head. “Nothing that matters to us,” she insisted.

S’san leaned forward again. “Why don’t you trust me with that information? I may still be able to help you.”

Mari sighed, letting her aggravation show. “Oh, it’s that daughter of Jules nonsense that the commons believe in. Just because I killed a dragon—”

“It was your second dragon,” Alain pointed out.

“And you don’t have to keep telling everyone that! Just because I killed a dragon to save Alain and happened to save all these commons, too, and then I gave them some medical supplies and talked to Alain and acted like a human being instead of a Mechanic, those commons thought I was—that I was her!”

S’san gazed at Mari intently, then at Alain. “The commons believe in that prophecy, but I was always told it had never actually been made. Yet this Mage just spoke of it as if it were real.”

“Nothing is real,” Alain said. “But the prophecy was made.”

“Alain!” Mari said, her voice sharper than she intended.

“Mages, Mechanics, and commons in one cause,” S’san mused. “Do you already have allies among the commons, Mari?”

“No!”

“She has a general,” Alain said, “sworn to her service.”

“Stop helping, Alain!” Mari said as she glared at him. Why was he doing this?

“So.” S’san had brought one hand up to her chin as she thought. “Mari, there has long been a tremendous irony in that the two Great Guilds, while hating each other, have effectively worked together to the same end: to keep the world stable. Both have used the commons to achieve that goal, dividing the commons against themselves. Whenever any powerful number of commons has tried to rise against the Great Guilds, another powerful group of commons has been found to oppose them and do the bidding of the Great Guilds in exchange for some temporary advantage. If your idea is to form an army of commons—”

“What?! I never said anything about—”

“It won’t work.” S’san shook her head, eyes still intent. “Not without something that would allow that army to prevail against everything that the Great Guilds and the commons who ally with them could throw against it. If you had been able to access that banned technology in the Guild vaults, get the tools that technology must offer, it might have held the advantage you needed. But without that, your army can’t win.”

“I don’t have an army!” Mari almost yelled. “I don’t want an army! Why would I want to start another war?” But Alain gave her a look, and Mari knew why. In her mind she heard again the words he had spoken at Dorcastle, words engraved in her memory as Alain told her of his vision. You and I are on this wall, again…a mighty battle rages around us. Another war? One she would somehow start? The idea was terrifying.

“I have told you my advice on the matter,” S’san said, unaware of the memory that brought a tightness to Mari’s chest. S’san paused, her face troubled. “The daughter of Jules.”

“Professor, I—”

“I’m not saying you are her, Mari. But that title—the belief of the commons in the one they accept as that person—is a very powerful variable. How that will affect the equations which govern this world I am far from wise enough to know. That hope alone, that the daughter would someday free them, may have helped keep the commons quiet longer than any other factor. Rather than revolt en masse, the commons have waited for her to appear.” The professor paused, then shrugged again. “I cannot guess how that might change things. Mari, here is my other advice, for whatever good it is. The stars above know that my plans thus far have been utter failures, so you need not feel obligated to do as I suggest. Find somewhere quiet, somewhere you can hide while new plans are formulated. That may be for a long time, unfortunately, as I have few ideas at this point. The Guild wants you, and the Guild will seek out everyone who might be your friend or ally to see if any of them can lead the Guild to you.”

Mari felt that tightness in her guts again. “You’re in danger because of me.”

“You were set up to be kidnapped and possibly killed partly because of what I taught you!” S’san raised an imperative forefinger. “We know a bit more about the problem now, but the solution, if there is one, remains unknown.”

Alain gave her a look, one in which Mari thought she read some meaning, but she focused on S’san as the professor spoke, pretending not to notice Alain’s gaze.

“If you die or are captured and then disposed of,” S’san was saying, “I know how that sounds, Mari, and I’m sorry, but we must assume that is what we’re dealing with—if you are gone, then there may not be any solution. Dematr may continue its slow slide into darkness, with all the world gradually becoming like Tiae, the Great Guilds controlling less and less as they cling to what they will not change.”

“It will not be slow,” Alain repeated impassively.

S’san slapped her chair angrily. “Fast or slow, I can offer no other suggestions or advice at the moment. I will continue to explore the chances of the Guild forgiving and forgetting, of seeing that some change must come, but regard that as unlikely at best.”

“I won’t renounce Alain,” Mari said. “That is off the table.”

“I understand. As your professor, that distresses me. As a person, it gives me hope. Maybe what this world needs is someone who won’t do whatever they think is necessary to make things be the way they want. Now, you can’t linger here or in this city. I recommend you get out of the Empire and go as far west as possible. There are places where the hand of the Guild is a little weaker. The forests around Landsend or the mountains north of Daarendi. Perhaps you’ll have a better chance there. You have already lingered here too long. I do not think the Guild is watching me constantly, but I know I am under suspicion. You should leave quickly, though I wish you could stay and talk, you and this intriguing Mage of yours.”

Mari stood up, her eyes on Professor S’san. “Thank you, Professor.”

S’san blew out a disdainful breath. “For helping to guide you into this mess?”

“Yes,” Mari said, surprised to realize she was sincere in saying that. “You tried, where others are content to ignore truth and reality. I can’t fault that. And if you hadn’t taught me the way you did, perhaps I wouldn’t have gotten to know a certain young male Mage. Will you be safe?”

S’san made a face. “That’s hard to say. No one can tell what the future holds, unless you believe in that fortunetelling the Mages do. What they call prophecies, like that about the daughter.” She directed another look at Alain. “What do have to say about that?”

“Foresight provides warning and visions, though it is unreliable,” Alain answered. “Its meaning is also often unclear.”

“Why would it be unclear?” S’san asked.

“There is only a vision,” Alain said. “It may be…what is the word…an allegory, such as a vision of an oncoming storm, that must be interpreted. But even a clear picture provides no understanding of how the events in the vision came to be, what decisions led to it, or what is happening outside the range of the vision. I have also come to understand that the person you see in the vision of the future, if it is you, may not be the same person you are. If a year ago I were to have seen a vision of myself at this moment, I could have neither interpreted nor understood any part of it. Why do I not wear my Mage robes? Who is the young woman beside me and why does she smile upon me? Who is the Mechanic and why do I speak with her? Where am I? Why did I come there? Though an accurate view of the future, the vision would offer no answers, only questions.”

S’san had been listening very closely. “Remarkable, yet also completely logical. A picture of the future lacks all context, so by the time you can understand a vision of the future, you’re there. It provides no useful information, you say?”

“It can,” Alain corrected. “It may show a possible event. The decisions made can lead to that event, or lead to something else.”

“Oh, Mari,” Professor S’san said, “if I could have only a week with this Mage to see how much I can learn! But I won’t imperil either of you by insisting on that. In a week, who knows what might have happened to me?”

Alain shook his head. “I have had no visions regarding your fate, Elder S’san.”

“If it’s a dire one, I have only my own mistakes to blame. Forgive me, Mari,” S’san said in an unusually quiet voice. “My errors placed you in grave danger.”

Mari walked forward to hug her old teacher. “You have not just my forgiveness but my thanks for what you’ve taught me. I have a lot of thinking to do. Since you taught me how to think well, maybe I’ll make the right decisions.”

But as the door closed behind her, Mari could see nothing ahead. Momentary optimism, fleeting hope, dissipated into nothing as she thought of her situation. “All of these people think I’m going to make some huge difference,” she said to Alain. “Including you. But how? It’s impossible. I’m out of options. It really is hopeless.”