The Pirates of Pacta Servanda E-Book

Jack Campbell

• Herausgeber: JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Serie: The Pillars of Reality
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 522

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

"The world feels oddly strained, like a line pulled too taunt and apt to snap, smashing everything in its path." Master Mechanic Mari and Mage Alain have survived every attempt to stop them, but their enemies are determined to kill Mari, the only one who can save her world from a storm of destruction. As armies begin to gather and cities seethe with tension, Mari, Alain, and their friends must prepare to confront the storm in the place it first appeared: the broken kingdom of Tiae. The dangers facing them demand perilous raids, tough battles, and more than a little piracy. Beating the Mechanics Guild and the Mage Guild that have controlled the world of Dematr for centuries will require an unprecedented alliance under Mari's command of rebellious Mechanics, Mages, and common folk who know that together they can change the world, but separately they will all lose.

Leseprobe

THE PIRATES OF PACTA SERVANDA

Copyright © 2016 by John G. Hemry

All rights reserved.

Published as an ebook in 2016 by JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.

Originally published as an Audible Original in January 2016.

Cover art by Dominick Saponaro.

ISBN 978-1-625671-36-3

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Acknowledgments

Also by Jack Campbell

To

my niece Megan Englehart

For S, as always

Chapter One

Master Mechanic Mari of Caer Lyn awoke from a nightmare of being pursued by remorseless killers through a maze of city streets, some of them crumbling ruins and others in flames. Those hunting her and her friends wore the black jackets of Mechanics and carried rifles, or were armored Imperial legionaries bearing swords and crossbows, or had the robes and emotionless faces of Mages who held long knives. One by one Mari’s friends died until she was trapped, the killers closing in, and behind them a raging mob destroying all in their path, a mob which would soon sweep over her and the killers alike, leaving nothing but death in its wake.

And inside that nightmare, everything was her fault. She had caused all of the deaths, including those of her friends.

She stared at the wooden beams and planks above her bunk, her breath coming in short gasps and her heart pounding. She was alone in the small cabin, but she could hear the clump of boots and the soft thud of sailors’ bare feet on the deck overhead.

She controlled her breathing and focused her thoughts. She wasn’t in a prison cell, or trapped in the dead city of Marandur, or being chased through the streets of Altis by assassins. She was aboard the small schooner Gray Lady, surrounded by her friends, and as safe for the moment as someone being hunted by at least half the world could hope to be.

The safety was only an illusion, though, because if the Mages were right, the mobs which haunted Mari’s nightmares would soon arise to smash everything on this world. And the Mages claimed that only she could stop that from happening.

Her gaze fell on the promise ring on her left hand. The sight of that brought Mari back to full wakefulness. Where was Alain? And why did the Gray Lady feel as if the ship were motionless, instead of sailing for whatever brief sanctuary the city of Julesport might offer?

Mari rolled out of the bunk, shrugged into her shoulder holster and ensured that the pistol nestled there was ready for use, pulled on the dark jacket of a Mechanic that she stubbornly continued to wear, and headed out on deck.

* * * *

Mage Alain of Iris stood at the rail of the Gray Lady, peering into the formless world beyond. The harsh and brutal training of a Mage acolyte ensured that his face revealed none of his feelings: not the annoyance at this setback or the fear he felt for Mari, who had changed his world just as she was fated to change this entire world. If she lived.

The morning sun had risen, but the only visible sign of it was a brightening in the white cocoon formed of sea mist, where the Gray Lady sat becalmed, her sails hanging limp from their spars and booms. Not even the faintest breeze stirred sky, fog, or the waters on which the Gray Lady rode. The air felt heavy and moist, so that each breath required extra labor and conjured up uncomfortable sensations of drowning. Water pooled on every flat surface and formed droplets on every mast, spar and piece of rigging, the drops sliding down the slack canvas of the sails and the rough cordage of the stays, shrouds, halyards, and ratlines, the drops growing as they absorbed other drops until they fell in a fitful rain to add to the wetness on the deck. Sound carried with startling ease, somehow magnified by the moist air, but colors were dimmed, as if the mist were stealing their vibrancy and leaving only pale, washed-out remnants. Those on the Gray Lady looked like ghosts to their comrades, looming vaguely out of the mist until they came close enough to be seen clearly.

A world’s fate hung on the balance, but they could not move. They had left the burning city of Altis behind less than two weeks ago, riding the breezes south and west out of the Sea of Bakre, dodging warships of the Mechanics Guild and those ships forced to serve the Mage Guild and even more than one Imperial galley forging far afield in pursuit of them. But now not a breath of wind stirred the unusually placid waters of the Jules Sea. Somewhere not far to the east-northeast lay Julesport, a city founded long ago by a pirate and still famously disreputable, but that possible refuge might as well have been a million lances distant.

And their dilemma had just become far more urgent. Alain heard noises of something coming closer under the cloak of the fog. Slow, rhythmic splashing of water and creaking of wood, the soft chant of someone calling cadence to rowers, the occasional rattle of metal on metal which warned of soldiers in armor with swords and shields.

The captain of the Gray Lady, a man who had proven to be suspiciously familiar with avoiding those searching for or pursuing his ship, came quickly along the deck, stopping only to whisper brief instructions to sailors who hastened to pass the word to others.

Reaching Alain, the captain bowed. “Sir Mage,” he said in a low voice. “I most humbly request that everyone remain as quiet as possible. There is at least one galley out there, and from its movements and attempts to muffle noise I believe it is searching for someone.”

Alain nodded once in reply. Despite his outward poise, the captain was not comfortable addressing a Mage, but then no common people were. None of them spoke to Mages if they could help it. Mages were unnerving not only in their ability to show no emotion, and apparently to feel none, but because they possessed mysterious powers that no common wanted employed against him or her on the whim of the Mage. Mages, for their part, rarely bothered to speak to commons unless to issue brief orders. Most Mages, rather, because those who had chosen to follow Mari were slowly learning to regard other people as something other than mere shadows, and Alain had already come far down that path. “Where is the galley from?” Alain asked quietly. “Has the Empire pursued us to the doorstep of Julesport?”

“It’s not the Empire, I am certain, Sir Mage. The Imperials don’t come out this far. Cities of the Confederation operate few galleys, and the galleys once employed by the broken Kingdom of Tiae are all sunk or foundered now. My guess is, this galley hails from Syndar. I’ve caught a few words carried through the fog and I believe I recognized the accent.” The captain waved briefly toward the west, where the islands of Syndar lay.

“Does the Syndari galley hunt us?” Alain said.

“I cannot be certain, Sir Mage,” the captain said. “But I believe that it does. Your Guild, and that of the Lady Mari, have doubtless offered immense rewards for either of you, and from what I have heard of your earlier travels the Imperials as well will pay dearly to have both of you dead.”

Alain turned his gaze upon the captain. “You are not tempted by such rewards?”

The captain didn’t flinch at the question. He smiled slightly, shaking his head. “No, Sir Mage.”

“Why not?”

Taking a deep breath, the captain spoke carefully. “I value freedom, Sir Mage, which is very hard to find in a world where the Great Guilds control everything. The sea has offered the best and sometimes the only refuge in all of Dematr for those seeking liberty. The rewards offered for you and the Lady are no doubt immense, but they dwindle to nothing compared to the chance that she might succeed, that she is the daughter of the prophecy who will overthrow the Great Guilds and grant everyone in this world freedom.”

He paused, then added in a rush “I know such as the Imperials will not be free just because the Great Guilds are overthrown. The citizens of the Empire will still have their Emperor or Empress, will still have to deal with Imperial police and Imperial law. And other places will have lesser rulers. Syndar is a nest of petty tyrants and a few colonies of freebooters. But people everywhere will have a chance at freedom, Sir Mage. A chance they now lack. And there is this. The world ashore feels oddly strained, like a line pulled too taut and apt to snap, smashing everything in its path. I’ve felt that tension growing worse and worse in recent years, and it feels to me far too much like Tiae was before that kingdom came apart and fell into anarchy.”

The captain paused again. “My apologies if I have overstepped or misspoken, Sir Mage. But you did ask for my reasons.”

“And you did not lie,” Alain said. Mages, trained to suppress their own feelings, could easily spot lies told by commons. “You will get us to Julesport?”

“If I can, Sir Mage.” The captain gestured again, this time toward the sound of the galley hidden in the fog. “But they can move when we cannot. We need wind. If the fog goes before the wind rises, the galley will see us and close in. Can you…?”

“Raise a wind? No.” Alain left it at that. In theory a Mage could create the illusion of the air moving and superimpose that over the illusion of still air that surrounded them, but the amount of power needed far exceeded anything available here. However, commons knew nothing of how Mage arts worked, and so assumed they could do anything.

“I’ll prepare my crew to defend the ship if necessary,” the captain said, not daring to further question a Mage. He saluted and hurried off.

Right behind the captain came Mari, her eyes searching the fog before coming to rest on Alain.

Alain had been taught to believe that everything he saw was an illusion, that every other person was just a shadow on that illusion, that nothing was real. But every time he saw Mari, he knew how false those teachings were. The world might be an illusion, but she was real.

“What’s going on?” she asked Alain, keeping her own voice low. “We’re becalmed? Why wasn’t I told?”

“You have not slept well since leaving Altis,” Alain said. “Your dreams are often troubled, so I decided to let you rest. But I was preparing to wake you now.”

“Why?” Mari brushed back an errant strand of her raven-black hair, peering into the fog. “What’s that I hear?”

“The captain believes it is a Syndari galley, seeking us for the rewards offered.”

“And we can’t move.” She made it a statement rather than a question, gazing upward into the web of rigging and stays on their ship. “If only this was a steam-powered ship. I can fix a balky boiler. I can’t do anything about a lack of wind.”

“The captain is preparing his crew to defend this ship if the galley finds us before we can move,” Alain said.

“What would our chances be? Did your training in the military arts cover that sort of thing?”

“Some of it,” Alain replied. Told that arrogant Mechanics believed they knew everything, he had been surprised upon first meeting Mari to discover that she had no problem with admitting when someone else knew more about any subject. “Our chances would be poor, because a galley has so many rowers who can join in an attack on us. The crew of this ship would be heavily outnumbered.”

“But we’ve got three Mages,” Mari said. “You, Mage Asha, and Mage Dav.”

“There is not much power here to use,” Alain said. “Without that power to draw on, there is little we can do. We also have four Mechanics,” he added.

“With rifles,” she said, then grimaced. “Four Mechanics firing rifles might not be enough, and our ammunition is limited. I’m worried about the lever action on Alli’s rifle. It keeps sticking, and she keeps fixing it, but it might jam again during a fight. And you still have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“No. I understand only that the matter concerns you.”

Mari sighed and leaned on the railing, staring outward. “If we ever have time, and if we survive, I need to see if you can learn anything about tools and devices, or if your Mage training makes them total mysteries to you forever. Is your foresight telling you anything?”

“I had a vision last night.”

Her gaze switched to him. “What did you see?” she asked anxiously.

“It was another vision of the coming Storm. Armies and mobs raging against each other, cities burning, a terrible sense of urgency, and a second sun appearing in the sky to stand against the Storm.”

“Nothing new, then,” she grumped, staring back out to sea. “It sounds like my latest nightmare, though that dream didn’t have any hopeful sun in it.”

“You are that sun. You know this.”

She made a face, looking out into the fog. “I know that people believe I can make a difference, and I know that I’m going to do my best.”

“My vision confirmed once more that you are the one who can bring the new day, that you alone can stand against the Storm.”

“Alain, I am nineteen years old. I am a very good Mechanic trained to fix lots of things. But for some reason my training never included how to fix a world!” She looked over at him, her expression softening, then touched Alain’s arm, the sort of gesture that could still startle him after so many years of being taught in the most painful ways not to allow casual human contact. “I’d be lost without you.”

“All the world will be lost without you,” Alain said.

She gave a brief snort of derisive laughter. “There’s my poetic Mage, who doesn’t even realize when he’s being poetic. You’re in love, and while I know that makes you delusional when it comes to me, I don’t know why other people so readily believe things like that, why they just accept that I’m…”

“The daughter.”

“You promised that you would never call me that!” Mari said, her voice suddenly low and angry.

“I…am…sorry,” Alain said, still sometimes having to stumble over the words that had once been literally beaten out of him. “Others have called you that, and you have accepted the title from them.”

“You are not others! I need at least one person in this world who sees me as me, as Mari. And that person has to be you.”

He nodded in agreement, if not entirely in understanding. “Your old friends, the other Mechanics, always appear to see you as Mari.”

“That’s because if Alli called me the daughter I’d punch her out and she knows it! And Dav and Bev aren’t old friends, but they still look at my jacket and see another Mechanic. Besides, Mechanics aren’t big on believing Mage prophecies.” She laughed, low and full of self-mockery this time. “It’s the Mages who look at me like the common folk do. The Mages, who aren’t supposed to care about other people at all.”

“We are taught that other people are not real,” Alain reminded her. “But our foresight, unreliable and imperfect as it is, shows that your shadow is cast wide across this illusion of a world. To Mages, this makes you worthy of notice.”

“Thank you so much. Can you sense any other Mages nearby who might consider me worthy of killing?”

“You are using what you call sarcasm again?” Alain asked.

“Yes. And no. Do you sense any Mages on the Syndari galley?”

“Not yet.” Alain strained his senses, hearing the creak of oars from somewhere in the fog, followed by the beat of those oars against the water. Then the sound of oars and the splash of water again, along with indistinctly heard orders spoken to someone out there in the formless mist. In between the louder sounds he could hear the soft rushing of a hull cleaving the quiet waters. But he could feel nothing in that extra sense which would warn of other Mages nearby. “If there are Mages with the galley, they are hiding their presence well.”

The captain returned, walking with care to prevent the sound of his boots from carrying through the fog. “We are prepared to fight if necessary, Lady,” he told Mari, his tone carrying respect and a happiness at odds with their predicament. Alain had noticed it among all of the common people who made up the Gray Lady’s crew. Generations of men and women like them had waited for the daughter, and they believed that Mari was she. But, perhaps sensing how little Mari liked being called by that name, they usually addressed her as Lady or Lady Mari.

“That’s not a Confederation warship out there?” Mari whispered. “You’re certain?”

“No Confederation ship has that sound to it,” the captain assured her. “If you’ve ever heard a Syndari galley bearing down on you under full oars and the drummer beating the chase cadence, you never forget it.”

“How close is the galley? From the sound it is as if it were just beyond our sight.”

The captain frowned, wiping mist-born moisture from his face. “I cannot tell you, Lady Mari. This fog makes it hard to tell just where the galley lies, how far off and on what bearing. Too close for my comfort, though.”

“How much wind do we need to move?” Mari asked, looking up at the slack sails hanging limp.

“Not much,” the captain said. “Ships like this are called Balmer Clippers. I never heard tell of anyone named Balmer, but he or she must have been uncommonly gifted at designing ships. These clippers can move like ghosts under a light breeze. That’s why they’re useful for, uh…smugglers, or, uh…pirates. Or so I have heard. But I wouldn’t want to move unless the fog lifts. We’re not far from the coast, not far from Julesport. It’s too easy to run aground when you can’t see any lights, and the bells on the buoys near Julesport are silent with the water this calm. Even the waves hitting the harbor breakwater that would normally give us warning are as silent as mimes today.”

Alain looked down at the perfectly smooth patch of water visible below them. “Is a sea this calm unusual?”

“Yes, Sir Mage.” The captain gestured out toward the water. “It is rare.”

“Then you cannot say how long it might last?”

“Sir Mage, it might last a moment longer or for days. A sailor learns that just when you think you know it the sea will surprise you. Have you heard that the sea is like a woman? There’s truth to that. One moment tranquil, the next moment furious, and all men can do is try to read the weather, ride the storm, and hope for the best.”

Mari gave the captain a sharp look. “I would guess that women sailors disagree with that comparison?”

“Uh, no, Lady. They tend to agree. A good sailor knows the character of the sea, no matter the character of the sailor.” The captain glanced at her, looking apologetic. “Not that I speak of you so, you understand.”

“The storms of Lady Mari have, I think, impressed the elders of the Mechanics Guild, the city fathers of Ringhmon, and the Emperor himself,” Alain replied, his eyes on the fog again. As he watched it, only half-aware of the captain trying to keep his expression “blank as a Mage,” as the saying went, Alain saw a blot on the featureless mist. He stiffened as a black cloud drifted across his vision. His foresight, often undependable, this time was providing a warning. “There.” He pointed. “A galley lies there.”

The captain stared into the mist where Alain had pointed. “Can you tell me anything else, Sir Mage?”

“Only that you are correct. It is a threat to us.”

The captain nodded. “I witnessed what you did to that Mechanics Guild ship at Altis, Sir Mage, and watched the smoke from the burning city for nigh on a day after we left. Can you do the same here?”

“I will do my best,” Alain said.

“Then despite the odds against us I feel much comforted. Do you know much of the Syndaris? I’ve crossed swords with them before. The fighters of Syndar are easily bought, but that does not mean real loyalty has been purchased.”

“How hard will they fight?” Alain asked.

“That depends upon the pay, or the reward, Sir Mage.” The captain smiled ruefully. “Unfortunately, the reward in your case must be very large. The Syndari galley we hear is risking movement in this fog, so those commanding it must be highly motivated.”

“You should know,” Alain said to the captain, “that the Empire and the Great Guilds likely do not seek the capture of Lady Mari, but her death.”

The captain nodded with obvious determination. “We will not allow that. Lest you doubt me, Sir Mage, death awaits me and more than one of my crew if the Empire gets its hands on us. Imperial bureaucrats have not been impressed by some of our means of making a living. They would no doubt grant us the promised reward to meet the letter of their law, but then would fine us the same amount for our crimes—alleged crimes, that is—and hang us. I admit that my crew and I are not the type to risk our deaths needlessly. Perhaps we’ve been more like the Syndaris than we like to admit. But…”

He hesitated, then knelt before Mari, speaking almost bashfully, far from his usual boisterous and confident self. “I long ago stopped believing in anything but what I can hold in these two hands, Lady, and counted those who risk death for no profit as fools. But I have seen you and heard you, and if Lady Mari were to ask life itself of me I would give it. The sea changes in unexpected ways, and so it seems I still can as well.”

Mari, looking extremely uncomfortable, beckoned the captain to stand. “I’m sorry. I know you mean well, but I really don’t like it when people kneel to me. Please don’t do that again. And I very much hope that neither you nor anyone else will have to die because of me. Too many people already have died.”

The captain stood up, smiling. “There, you see? We’ve spent our lives knowing that no Mechanic and no Mage cared the slightest about whether we lived or died, not as long as we were doing what they ordered us to do. We didn’t matter, that’s all. But we do matter to you. Thank you, Lady. If we can get into Julesport without a fight, I promise it will be done. But if we must fight, we will. I will let my crew know.” He saluted with careful formality before departing.

“Great. More people who want to die because of me,” Mari grumbled. “If we didn’t have to worry about saving those banned Mechanic texts, I’d dive overboard right now and try to swim to shore. But those texts are more important than I am. More important than everyone else on this ship.”

“I thought you said—” Alain began.

“I am not more important than anyone else,” Mari insisted. “That’s what I said. You heard what the hidden librarians we found on Altis told us. Those texts were designed to enable people to rebuild civilization if the worst happened. With them people can recreate the technology that the Mechanics Guild has suppressed for all of these years. I, or somebody else, can use those texts to defeat whatever the Guild throws at us. If we have enough time.”

“The Storm approaches,” Alain said.

“Well, I wish the Storm would send a breeze ahead of it to help this ship get its butt into Julesport! How much can you and the other Mages do, Alain? Didn’t you tell me that while the amount of power Mages can draw on is almost always weak over water, it also varies by location?”

“That is so,” Alain said, not surprised that Mari had remembered that. She was always trying to understand Mage skills by using the rules of her Mechanic arts, which usually led to frustration. “There is little power here, as is usual on the sea. Even the elders of the Mage Guild do not claim to know why this is so.”

“You managed some spells when we were on the Queen of the Sea,” Mari pointed out. “That was the Mechanics Guild ship that captured us near the Sharr Isles.”

He felt unease at the memory. The large metal ship filled with Mechanic devices had felt strange in a very disquieting way. “That ship was moving fairly quickly, bringing more power available with each distance covered,” Alain explained. “Here we sit in the same spot.”

“Oh. You were…sort of getting more current by moving along a wire,” Mari said. “Yeah. So we have to assume that this time the Mages cannot help?”

That stung in some unaccountable way. “There is a chance,” Alain said, “if this ship begins to move even slowly, because I would only need to plant one ball of fire on a galley to eliminate it. But I would have to see that galley coming long enough to create the fire and to aim, and the effort would surely exhaust me.”

She was staring at him. “I said that wrong, didn’t I? I said it wrong enough to make you show some upset that I could see. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that I was…disappointed. I’m just trying to figure out what weapons we have. And you’ve done miracles, Alain. I would long since be dead without you. We have four Mechanics and three Mages. What do you think we should do?”

Alain looked about, considering the problem. “We do not know from which direction an enemy might come. I suggest that I take position near the ship’s wheel, where I can best view all angles. The Mechanics and the other two Mages can be placed in the middle of the ship, where you can direct the others easily.”

“Half facing each way?” Mari asked.

“Half?”

Mari gave that sigh she used when he did not grasp something she had never imagined someone not knowing. “Two Mechanics and one Mage facing port, and two Mechanics and one Mage facing starboard. Alain, you have to learn some math.”

“If you know it, why do I need it? I do not ask you to learn how to do Mage tasks.”

“Because…” Mari sighed again. “Without realizing it, I keep wanting to remake you into a Mechanic, which would not only be dumb of me but also really conceited. Who you are is what has saved us many times. Um…I need to alert the other Mechanics. You tell the other Mages that we might have a fight on our hands soon. We’ll all meet here on deck.” Mari brushed back her hair again with her left hand, the still-new promise ring on one finger glinting in the misty light. She noticed it, then looked at Alain, who wore the ring’s companion on his own left hand. “I almost forgot to say I love you.”

Despite the inhibitions created by years of extremely harsh instruction in avoiding even the appearance of emotion, Alain managed to force out the right answer. “I…love…you.”

She smiled despite the worry visible on her. “A lot of other men find it too easy to say those words. Because of your Mage training, you find it very hard, so I know you mean them. I’m going to be counting on you again in this fight, which I know is totally unfair, but I also know I can always count on you. Let’s survive another one, my Mage.” She turned to go, then paused and looked back at him, framed by the coils of mist drifting across the deck. “Don’t die. You understand? Don’t die.”

Alain tried to smile reassuringly, knowing that he was probably not doing a very good job of it. “I understand, my Mechanic. You are also not to die.”

She forced a grin in reply, then hurried away.

Despite the urgency of his task, Alain stood for a moment watching as Mari walked into the fog, her dark Mechanics jacket standing out. The hatred between the Mage Guild and the Mechanics Guild was long and enduring, constantly reinforced by every contact between Mages and Mechanics—who were mutually certain that the others were conceited frauds. He had been taught to view the dark Mechanics jacket as a sign of the enemy. But despite all that had happened between her and her former Guild, Mari still took great pride in being one of those trained in the Mechanic arts and found comfort in still wearing the familiar garment. And Alain, who had only recently turned eighteen years old, knew that he would never have lived past seventeen if not for the times the young woman wearing that dark jacket had placed it and herself between him and danger.

Even if he had not grown to love her, he would still look fondly upon the dark jacket he had once been trained to hate. Perhaps someday the common folk and other Mages would also look upon the dark jackets of Mechanics without anger and revulsion. Just as Mari had taught some of her fellow Mechanics to see that not all Mages were monsters.

Mari had saved him, and she could save this world.

If he could help get them both past the Syndari galley.

Alain hurried off as well, seeking both Mage Dav and Mage Asha. As he walked softly along the deck, he could hear the sounds of galley oars coming through the fog.

Chapter Two

The Gray Lady was a small ship, and Mages tended to keep to themselves, so Alain had no trouble finding Mage Dav and Mage Asha, the short, dumpy male Mage forming an odd contrast with the tall, beautiful female Mage. But his fellow Mages were one and the same in the blankness of their expressions, showing neither surprise nor interest when Alain summoned them to come with him. Within a few moments all three Mages were on deck, looking even more mysterious than usual with the fog swirling around their robes.

Mari soon joined them with her fellow Mechanics, Alli, Bev, and Dav. All four wore the jackets which marked their status as Mechanics, as well as the jeans and boots which, while not identical, seemed as much a part of the Mechanic uniform as the jackets. Only their shirts varied: Mari’s a pale white, Alli’s bright blue, Bev’s a somber gray, and Dav’s a darker blue that almost faded into his jacket.

Everyone looked at Mari, waiting to hear what she had to say. “Everybody keep their voices down,” she cautioned. “Sound really carries in this fog and there’s at least one galley looking for us.”

“What’s the plan?” Mechanic Alli asked her.

Alain was not surprised by that. Despite Mari’s insistence that she and Alain were equals in making decisions, everyone else tended to view her as being in charge. That bothered her every time she realized it was happening, but it did not concern Alain because he knew that Mari really did try to give him an equal voice in their decisions.

Mari gestured toward parts of the ship barely visible through the fog. “Mage Alain on the quarterdeck. He’ll use fire if he can get enough power. The rest of us along the deck here, facing each side. Alain, I’d like you, Mage Dav, and Mage Asha to work out which spells each of you can use if it comes to that.”

Mage Dav nodded slightly once. Mage Asha merely looked back at Mari. There had been a time when that lack of acknowledgement would have angered Mari, but she had since learned through Alain that the mere fact that the other Mages had accepted her existence was a major concession.

Mari pointed at Mechanic Bev. “Bev, please break out the rifles.”

Mechanic Bev nodded as well, but with a quick jerkiness that bespoke tension. “All of them?”

“Yes. All six. That one that Alli has been working on still jams way too easily, and if we’re facing a galley of fighters coming at us we’ll want to keep shooting and put off reloading as long as we can.”

“What exactly are we facing?” Mechanic Dav asked.

“At least one galley out of Syndar. Listen and you’ll hear it out there. Alain says it’s looking for us.”

“Can I ask something?” Bev said. “Seriously. Why not just let your Mage blow up the galley like he did the Mechanic ship in the harbor at Altis?”

“My Mage…” Mari paused and gave Alain a quick, proud smile. He knew that she liked that phrase. “My Mage might not be able to handle it because there’s not much power here for him to draw on.”

Bev nodded again. Mage powers—abilities that appeared to violate every rule Mechanics had been taught about how the universe worked—were a mystery to Mechanics, but Alain had learned that Mechanics could understand the idea of limited power restricting what could be done. “We don’t have a big supply of ammo,” she pointed out. “I’m just saying.”

“I understand,” Mari said. “I don’t want to get into a fight if we can help it. I hope we can scare off the galley instead, or at least avoid letting it come to grips. If all of us are shooting we’ll have four rifles in use at once, and that is a lot more firepower than commons are used to facing. The Syndari Islands are also more likely to forgive us for frightening off one of their ships than they are if we sink it, and we’ve already got enough enemies at the moment.”

“Why not tell them that you’re the daughter?” Alli asked.

Alain saw Mari grimace and look away before answering. “I think they already know, but are chasing big enough rewards that they’ll find reasons to believe I’m not really that person.”

“They could believe it,” Bev pointed out, “and still want you under their control. As long as the commons and Mages believe that you’re her, you’re like the queen on a chessboard.”

Mari gave a scoffing laugh. “Maybe. That’s the closest to being a queen that I’ll ever be, though. But it doesn’t matter exactly why the Syndaris are chasing us. What matters is that they are.”

“Fair enough,” Alli said. “I bet it still feels weird to be looked at that way, huh? Hey, Bev, let me look at your rifle once we’ve got them. I want to make sure the ejection mechanism isn’t sticking.”

“Yes, honored Mechanic,” Bev said, making a joke of the phrasing usually required of commons, and hurried off to get the Mechanic weapons.

Alli shook her head at Mari. “Some of these standard-model repeating rifles are over a century old. The parts are so worn the things rattle when you move them.”

“Every one of them hand crafted,” Mechanic Dav said, looking out into the fog. “Just like the bullets. I had a friend whose aunt suggested some faster methods of fabricating ammo. The aunt disappeared soon afterwards.”

“The Mechanics Guild doesn’t want a lot of rifles and bullets in circulation,” Mari said. “They want just enough to be able to parcel them out one or two at a time where needed to help any commons doing what the Guild tells them to do, or to hurt any commons disobeying the Guild. We’re going to change that.”

“Is that necessarily a good thing? I mean—more rifles, more ammunition, won’t that make wars even worse?”

Mari paused, looking troubled.

Alain answered. “Mechanic Dav, I have already seen many die at point or edge of sword or from a crossbow bolt. I cannot see that it is different from dying as a result of one of the Mechanic weapons. And having seen what was done at Marandur, I think that it is why weapons are used or not used that matters, not which weapons are used.”

Mechanic Dav gazed at Alain and nodded slowly. “I guess that’s true. War is going to be terrible, no matter what. And like Mari says, wars up to now have been all about keeping the Great Guilds in power. At least we’re fighting for a better reason than that.”

Mage Asha came up to stand near Mechanic Dav, her expression still void of any feeling. “If we are to fight, I will stand here,” she said in the emotionless voice of a Mage.

Mechanic Dav looked over at her and smiled. “I’d like that,” he said.

Asha inclined her head very slightly toward him, then looked back out to sea.

Mari leaned close to Alain and whispered. “What is that about? What is Asha doing?”

“Mage Asha is showing great interest in Mechanic Dav. I am surprised how blatant she is being.”

“She’s—” Mari stared at him. “Is Asha flirting with Dav? Is that how Mages flirt?”

“I do not know what flirt means,” Alain said. “But her interest in him is obvious.”

“Obvious? Seriously?”

“Does this bother you?”

“No. Not really. Not that.” She gazed north as if able to see through the fog and the distance. “I’m…nervous, Alain. Not just scared because we’re facing another fight, but nervous about how everyone is asking me what to do. Until Altis it was just you and me, and that was bad enough, wondering if some snap decision of mine would end up trapping us. And at Altis I was just responding to events, trying to keep ahead of things, without time to worry. But now we’ve got three other Mechanics and two other Mages, and they’re not only depending on me to make decisions, they’re also in major danger just because they’re with me. So are the crew of this ship. And how many others, Alain? How many commons are going to die because they believe I am that person they’ve been waiting for?”

Alain knew that the impassive expression he was trained to project was the wrong thing at a time like this. He tried to show concern, hoping that Mari would see it. “You have heard the commons speak of this, Mari. They have been dying for centuries for no greater purpose than to ensure that the Mechanics Guild and the Mage Guild continue to rule this world. Without you they would still die, and without you almost all of them will die.”

“I’m under enough pressure already, Alain! Where’s that Syndari galley now?”

Perhaps he should have said something else. Or perhaps this was one of those times when nothing said would really help. Alain gazed into the mist and saw nothing but the hanging curtains of off-white fog. “I cannot tell. There are faint noises which say the galley remains in this area, but my foresight is not working now.”

Mari exhaled angrily. “Is it because of me? Did your foresight stop working because I’m so tense?”

Alain, who still had to work at revealing his emotions, had no problem in showing surprise. Then he shook his head. “No. That should not be involved.”

“You’ve told me that foresight requires a personal connection to someone else, and if I’m not exactly encouraging close feelings at the moment…”

“Such a connection does not vary so quickly,” Alain assured her. “Nor do my feelings vary so much, especially when I know you are under the strain of being responsible for so many things. This is not your fault. Do not blame yourself for my lack of foresight. You know that my gift has always been erratic, Mari.”

She leaned on the rail, gloomily looking into the mist. “I know. But somehow I think of it like another machine. A Mechanic device. Something that I can turn on and it’ll work when I need it to work. Which is kind of funny, really, because I know plenty of machines that don’t always work when they’re needed. But this is part of you, and you’re always there when I need you.”

“Thank you.” Those words had grown easier to say. Mages were taught not to use them, not to consider any courtesy. Alain had once forgotten those words and what they meant. But she had reminded him of the simple phrase, far away in the desert waste outside Ringhmon when they had first encountered each other.

“I take you for granted,” Mari said. “I know I do. And I yell at you when you don’t deserve it.”

“We are not living an easy life,” Alain noted. “But you often show your love for me. I cannot imagine wishing to be with anyone else, whether in peace or conflict, and especially amid the perils we have faced together.”

She reached over and grasped his hand. “And here we are facing danger again, my Mage. At least we’re not facing it alone.”

Apparently he had said the right thing this time. Alain turned to look along the deck, almost immediately spotting instead a dark blot against one part of the mist. “It is there. The galley lies in that direction.”

Mari looked intently where Alain had indicated. “I can’t see anything, but your foresight is obviously working again. After I made nice to you, I might add.”

“That—” Alain paused, thinking. “That is not supposed to matter. The Mage elders—”

“Lied about a lot of things, Alain. Just like my Senior Mechanics lied to me.”

Out of the corner of his eye Alain noticed something else and swung to look off the opposite side of the ship. Another black blot on the fog. That could mean only one thing. “And there is another galley in that direction.”

“Two of them? Wonderful.”

“Why is that wonderful? I thought wonderful meant—”

“Sarcasm! Never mind! We need to tell the captain we’ve definitely got two galleys out there now.”

Alain pivoted slowly, looking for more warnings from his foresight. He paused as another blotch appeared off the bow of the Gray Lady. “There are three. And they surround us.”

Mari snagged a passing sailor. “Tell the captain that there are three galleys out there, all looking for us. One in that direction, one out there, and the third over that way somewhere.”

The sailor gaped at her, then hastily saluted. “Yes, Lady Mari! I’ll tell him immediately!” Rushing off toward the quarterdeck as quickly and quietly as he could move, the sailor vanished into the fog.

More soft footsteps sounded, and the shape of Mechanic Bev came out of the fog. “Did you do something to one of the crew?” she asked.

“I told him that there are three galleys out there hunting us,” Mari replied.

“That explains the look of terror on the guy’s face. Three? I thought it was one.” Bev herself no longer seemed rattled as she handed one of the Mechanic weapons to Mari, then others to Alli and Dav.

But Alain could still sense a tightness in Mechanic Bev. She hides something, Alain told himself. Mechanic Bev hides emotions as a Mage does, but for other reasons than Mages do. There is something she will not reveal to anyone.

If it is what I think it is, don’t ask, Mari had told him. Bev has been hurt, but if we are loyal to her she’ll be loyal to us.

He had not understood, but now was not the time to pursue the matter of whatever in Mechanic Bev’s past had been kept hidden. Not as long as Mari was certain that Bev could be counted on.

Alli scowled as she flipped the object she called a lever action on the rifle. “This thing is just waiting to jam the moment I need it. I can feel it. Bev, set this one aside and let me have that one.”

“Sure. If you can’t fix it, nobody can.”

Mari faced the rail, cradling her weapon. “If a galley runs across us in this fog they’ll be right on top of us before we see them, so we won’t have much time to deal with them. If you see one, call out fast.”

Alli leaned on the rail next to her. “While I was at Danalee some Syndaris tried to place an order with us for a lot of pistols. I gathered that they prefer to capture other ships by coming up fast and flooding them with attackers. That’s why the Syndaris wanted to buy pistols from the Guild but weren’t interested in rifles. They don’t want to fight long-distance battles.”

“That’s what Alain said. Did the Guild sell them any pistols?” Mari asked.

Alli grinned. “One. And exactly twelve rounds of ammo. You wouldn’t believe how much the Syndaris had to pay for that.”

Mechanic Dav called softly from the other side of the ship. “They want to capture the ship, you say. What about us? Do they want us alive?”

“Probably not,” Mari said. “You know how we’ve been warned that commons will accidentally hit Mechanics during a battle. That’s under normal circumstances. This time they know our Guilds want us dead.”

“Mage Guild, too?” Dav asked. “All of us dead?” His eyes strayed toward Asha.

“All of us,” Alain confirmed.

“Well…that’s not going to happen.”

Alli grinned. “We made it out of Altis in one piece, which is more than the people trying to catch us there can say.”

Mari glared at the fog, her face tight with emotion. Alain could sense what she was thinking, that she and Alain had been through many more such tight situations than the others, and how narrowly the two of them had often survived. “All right,” Mari finally said, her voice probably sounding perfectly calm to the other Mechanics even though any Mage could have heard the tension within it. “Ideally, we need to keep the Syndari galleys from getting close enough to board us. That’s going to be very hard with visibility this low. If one shows up, everybody start throwing lead at any spot where they try to board.”

“Throwing lead?” Mage Dav asked.

“That means firing our rifles,” Mari explained. “You Mages will have to do whatever you can to either scare off the galley or stop anyone trying to board us.”

“We will cast what spells are possible,” Alain cautioned. “And if any Syndaris should reach the deck of this ship we will deal with them.” He partly drew the long knife which all Mages carried under their robes, and Mage Dav and Asha did the same.

Mari’s eyes met his. “At times like this I wish you could use my pistol.”

“It is hard. I could strike someone with it if they came close enough,” Alain said.

“And yet you can’t use a hammer,” Mari muttered, glaring into the fog again.

They stood at the rail, saying little and even then speaking in low voices. Except for the quiet creaking of wood as the Gray Lady rode the barely apparent ocean swell, the sailing ship made no sound, a fact for which Alain was grateful. It left the galleys no clue to follow to their location. He frowned very slightly as a thought occurred to him. “Mage Asha and Mage Dav. The galleys seek us here in the fog. They know of our presence in this small part of the sea despite not being able to see us.”

Mage Dav nodded without expression. “They must have a Mage with them, one who can sense the presence of you, me, or Asha. Only the dense fog has kept them from finding us before now. I cannot sense this Mage, though.”

Asha gazed into the fog, her expression a curious mixture of blankness and intensity. She was, very slowly, following Alain’s lead in beginning to show traces of her feelings again. “I sense…” Asha pointed off the stern of the Gray Lady, her arm and hand slowly moving forward. “There. It is very hard. He hides himself well. But I know him.” She looked at Alain. “Niaro, the Mage who was almost your downfall in Palandur.”

“Great,” Mari muttered. “Can this Niaro cast fire like Alain?”

“No. His Mage gifts are modest.” Asha nodded to Alain. “His envy, I think, feeds his ability to find Alain despite Mage Alain’s skill.”

Alain saw Mari’s jaw tighten and her hands flex upon the weapon she held. Mari did not like shooting at others, often displaying great distress after having to do so, but she would when necessary. Now she looked ready to deal with Niaro. “We need to discourage him,” she said. “If I get him in my sights, he’s going to have something to worry about besides his own inadequacies as a Mage.”

“I believe he was also attracted to me,” Asha explained, almost apologetically. “In physical ways, and blamed my rejection on Mage Alain.”

Alli smothered a laugh. “He’s a man? He saw you? Yeah, he was probably hot for you. What do you think, Dav?”

Mechanic Dav looked uncomfortable, but wisely refrained from replying.

Asha shrugged lightly at Alli’s statement, then tapped her robes where the long Mage knife was concealed beneath them. “I am experienced at discouraging those Mages whose attention was not welcome. Niaro did not take that well.”

Bev, who had been more distant than the others around Asha, now turned an approving smile on her.

Mari glanced up at the sails, staring at the fog drifting among them. “I thought I felt a breeze.”

A sailor came running along the deck, bare feet making little noise, his gaze turned upward where the fog had begun swirling. The masts, spars and booms creaked as the gentle, erratic breeze pushed at the still-limp sails, the sound seeming huge amid the silence on the ship.

Alain concentrated on preparing himself for action as the fog began opening up slightly in small patches. For a moment he could clearly see the quarterdeck of the Gray Lady not far from him, then it vanished in the white mist again. “I should go to the quarterdeck as we discussed.”

“Let’s change that plan. I’d rather you stay here, if you don’t mind,” Mari said.

Grateful that she had given him a reason not to leave her side, Alain nodded.

More of the sails overhead came into view, then disappeared. The mainsail flapped with a thunderous sound as it caught a freshening wind for a moment before drooping again. Straining his hearing, Alain heard oars splashing, then pausing, as the galleys searched for them.

“Hang on,” Bev warned. A large gap had opened in the fog on the Gray Lady’s starboard side. Moments later the shape of a galley loomed out of the mist at the far side of the open space, its banks of oars resting unmoving in the water. Crewmembers on the galley spotted the sailing ship, pointing and calling out to the officers on their own quarterdeck. The galley lay low to the water, long and lean with a single mast. A large raised platform at the stern held the ship’s wheel and another raised platform at the bow offered a fighting position for lightly armored soldiers carrying crossbows and wearing swords.

Alain heard commands being called on the galley. Now that its presence was known, the drummer keeping cadence for the oars stopped gently tapping and instead began pounding, the sound carrying clearly across the water. The oars rose in unison, an unexpectedly graceful sight as the banks of oars swept up and around to splash into the water as one. The galley jumped forward, curving around slightly to aim straight for the Gray Lady, which was still barely moving under the irregular winds flowing past.

Alain felt the power in this area, appalled by how weak it still was. “Mage Asha, Mage Dav, only one of us can hope to cast a spell at one time. I will try this first one, which will likely exhaust me.”

Asha drew her long Mage knife, holding the hilt in both hands before her and making a couple of swift practice cuts through the air as she serenely watched the Syndari galley draw closer.

“I cannot hope to create a strong fire spell,” Alain told Mari, “and the fog has made all surfaces wet.”

“Is there a weak point you can strike at?” Mari asked.

“A what?”

She had her rifle leveled toward the galley and kept her eyes on her target as she answered. “Some spot where applying a little force can produce big results. You’ve made holes in things. Like…like the mast on the galley. See it? What if part of it at the bottom went away?”

His eyes focused on the base of the galley’s mast. Alain concentrated on that spot, trying to block out the uproar around him as the Gray Lady’s sailors tried to trim her sails to catch the erratic winds and the Mechanics prepared to fire their weapons. He had to draw to himself the dregs of power available here to augment his own strength, because no Mage could change the world illusion without some outside power added to his or her own. As Alain gathered the power he recited to himself the lessons that every Mage learned, the beliefs that made their arts possible. The illusion which was the world showed him a galley with a tall mast, the sail on it furled as the galley drove forward on its oars. The illusion of a mast stood tall and straight, but that illusion could be changed. Overlay another illusion, one in which the mast had a break in it, a small gap not far above the deck. It required the belief that what he saw was an illusion, and the confidence that he could change that illusion for a brief period.

Alain felt the effort draining his strength but held his concentration as the galley swept down upon the Gray Lady. He almost lost his focus as Mari’s rifle roared next to him, followed by a series of other explosions as the other Mechanics fired. He barely heard Mechanic Alli calling to the others. “He’s a still a bit out of range for these old weapons. The rifling in their barrels is worn almost smooth. Let him get a little closer and then we’ll give him another volley!”

Alain heard but did not pay attention to the captain calling out commands, hardly noticed the Gray Lady slowly, slowly starting to move and turning as the freshening wind teased at her sails and her rudder bit into the water, saw but did not pause to think about Mari standing at the rail, her rifle still raised and ready. This spell needed everything he could give, and suddenly it was there, the power and his own strength draining as the world illusion changed for a moment.

A portion of the galley’s mast just above the deck rippled and most of the base vanished for several moments, leaving the mast supported only by a thin strip on one side. Not a total success, but enough. Unable to hold the mast, the remaining strip of wood buckled and snapped, the mast swinging against the restraints of the galley’s rigging. But those ropes weren’t strong enough to hold the mast’s full weight. The rigging broke with loud reports sounding like a Mechanic weapon firing, then the top of the mast toppled forward and down, its base crashing upon the deck and the upper portion with the sail striking the water with a mighty splash. The stricken mast served as an anchor on that side, jerking the galley back and over, away from the Gray Lady, as the galley’s oars flailed in confusion and cries of distress arose from the crew.

Alain fell forward, almost dropping to the deck. Mage Dav caught his arm, holding him up, then nodded with approval.

“You are skilled,” Mage Dav said. Then he looked down at where he held Alain’s arm, supporting him. “This is help,” he announced with the pride of someone who has discovered something new.

“Yes,” Alain agreed tiredly, worn out by his effort.

Moments later the slow progress of the Gray Lady finally took her back into a deeper area of fog, losing sight of the stricken galley. Mari turned to Alain, gazing at him anxiously. “Are you all right, my love?”

He nodded. “I am only exhausted. I cannot do more anytime soon.”

“But you took out a galley.”

The captain’s voice calling down from the quarterdeck dispelled that idea, though. “That one’s not finished. He’ll cut the mast free and come after us under oars again.”

Alain leaned against the mast, waving off Mage Dav’s aid. “Prepare yourself for the next attack. I did not sense Mage Niaro aboard that galley, but my focus was on my spell so he may have been there. Thank you for your help.”

“Help,” Mage Dav repeated. He nodded, then went to the rail to search the fog.

Mari made sure Alain was securely propped against the nearest mast, then rejoined the other Mechanics and Mages at the rail.

The sails of the Gray Lady banged overhead as more gusts of winds came and went. The ship drifted through another slightly open area, where visibility stretched for almost a bow shot in one direction. Rags of fog flew by, merging into another bank that once more reduced sight to less than the length of the ship. Looking up, Alain saw threads of blue sky appearing and disappearing as the fog began shredding above them. A wind steadied, billowing out the sails as the captain bellowed orders to trim them to take best advantage of the breeze.

The Gray Lady gathered speed, her clipper-rigged sails seizing the wind and her sleek hull sliding smoothly across the water. The fog parted again with shocking suddenness, leaving Alain staring at the shape of another Syndari galley cruising past in the opposite direction, its oars working steadily. Once again shouts of command could be heard on the galley, once again the drummer began pounding his deep cadence. The oars on one side paused before reversing, and those on the other side swept down hard forward, twisting the galley in a tight turn. At the same time a volley of crossbow bolts flew up from the forward platform of the galley, arcing through the sky toward the Gray Lady.

The Gray Lady’s captain wasn’t waiting for either the galley or the bolts to arrive. Yelling his own orders, he brought the sailing ship around to port so hard that the Mechanics and Mages on the deck all staggered to the rail and held on tightly. Several crossbow bolts thudded into the deck, one striking so close to Asha that she stumbled to the side, off balance.

Before she could fall Mechanic Dav had lunged away from the rail and caught her.

Asha gazed at the Mechanic dispassionately. “You help.”

“I…I don’t want you hurt,” Mechanic Dav said. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Alain saw one corner of Asha’s lip bend into the tiniest of smiles. “I am well. Back to your duties, Mechanic Dav.”

Alain had assumed that Mechanic Dav’s interest in Asha was all about her beauty. Certainly from his reactions that was what had first attracted him to her. But now Alain wondered if this Mechanic Dav was wise enough to see the woman within Asha’s Mage exterior. The thought cheered him even through his weariness.

Mechanic Dav went back to the rail, where Alli made a low-voiced comment that drew brief, tense laughter from Mari and Bev. Alain wondered what the women found amusing.