“Perhaps we are,” Alain said, his voice also hushed.
Finally they reached the vaults. Mari shone her light on the big metal doors, all of them sagging open. Their massive hinges, heavy enough to support the doors, had nonetheless bent under the burden of decade upon decade of holding up their weight. “The vaults have been open for a long time,” she whispered. “But they don’t show any signs of being forced. Someone had the keys and the combinations.”
Mari stepped to the entry of one vault, moving the light from side to side, seeing empty shelves and vacant drawers left hanging open. Dust lay heavily everywhere, all of the drawers corroded so badly that it was probably impossible to move them now.
Somebody had been here before them. A long time before them. Their entire ordeal had been for nothing. She checked the other two vaults, seeing the same vacancy. Running her light along the floors and ceilings of the vaults, she could not see any signs that fires had burned here in the past, one small comfort in the midst of her distress. “At least they didn’t burn the texts, but my Guild must have somehow managed to get them out of the city before the emperor’s ban took effect. The texts must be in the Guild’s vaults in Palandur, where we’ll never be able to get to them. This entire, horrible journey was a waste, Alain.”
“I am sorry. It was my idea.”
She turned to him, fighting back tears. “It was a good idea. It just didn’t work out.” Without another word, she headed back the way they had come. Mari took the route almost carelessly this time, only caring about getting out of the ruin as fast as possible. She didn’t stop until they reached the open again, where she stood blinking up at the late afternoon sky and wiping her eyes with one dirty coat sleeve.
Mari was turning to blurt out her disappointment again to Alain when a sound came from somewhere in the dead city on this side of the river, a long, low whistle. Moments later another whistle came, from back along the way they had come down the river. A third whistle sounded in reply, this one farther inside the city.
Alain shook his head. “The hunt is on. We are the prey. We need to find a place where we can defend ourselves and we must find it quickly.”
Chapter Sixteen
Mari and Alain fled along the riverbank, where the going was easiest. Every once in a while another whistle would sound, the direction of the signal telling them that a net was slowing closing around them. Once again, Alain let Mari find the path while he watched behind them, wondering how much strength he still had after a long day of exertion.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“I am all right,” Alain said.
“And I’m the Queen of Tiae,” Mari retorted. “Alain, how are you doing?”
“I have few spells left within me,” Alain admitted. “I am amazed that I have even that much after all this day has held, but it is not enough to fight off a mob of savages. We could stop and rest in hopes of rebuilding my strength more quickly, but that would just allow these human hounds to catch up with us faster.”
Mari had been silent and depressed since they left the ruins of the Mechanic Guild Hall. “Listen, Alain. I don’t need much strength to use my weapon, so we’ll depend on that as long as possible. If they pin us down and we’re trapped, use everything you’ve got left to try to stop them. If that doesn’t work, I’ll save the last two bullets for us.”
He wanted to argue that grim logic, but the thought of what the barbarians might do to Mari if they captured her alive silenced his protests. “If they can be stopped, I will stop them,” Alain vowed. “You must live. You must save this world. Mari, if I hold them while you keep running—”
“I’d get caught really fast,” she said. “We both know that. If we split up, we’re both as good as dead. We’ll—” A sudden gasp from Mari brought Alain spinning to face front. She had reached the top of another pile of debris and was staring ahead. “Alain, look.”
He climbed up beside her, seeing a wide, open area, then a brick wall significantly smaller than the city walls but still twice as tall as any man. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. But look! That wall’s been repaired in places. I’d swear it.” Mari was fumbling out the thing she called a far-seer and placing it to her eyes. “Yes. Repairs. That’s the first sign we’ve seen of somebody fixing and maintaining a structure in Marandur.”
He followed her pointing arm, seeing the sections where lighter patches of brick marked more recent work. “A wall which has been kept standing means it might still be defending something. Do you think there are people inside who are using it for protection from the types who hunt us now?”
“It could be. Can you see? They’ve also been clearing the open ground in front of the wall. The vegetation has been cut and burnt.” Mari was peering around frantically. “But I can’t see the gate. There’s got to be a gate.” She jerked in sudden recognition. “It’s the university. If Palandur was modeled on Marandur, then this would be the old Imperial university. I didn’t see that at first because everything around it is wrecked and lifeless, but it’s in the right place relative to the Mechanics Guild headquarters and the Guild academy.”
Another pair of whistles sounded behind them. “If we cannot see the gate, let us go look for it,” Alain urged.
“If it’s like the university in Palandur, the gate should be over this way.” Mari scrambled over the top of the pile of wreckage, sliding down in a shower of dust and small debris. Alain followed as she ran toward the wall at an angle, away from the river and across the open area.
“It’s a bit separated from the rest of the city by a park that surrounds the university walls,” Mari gasped as she ran. “It’s not a park anymore, but it used to be. All of the trees are gone now and the paths must be covered by dirt and grass. But when there were trees here it must have been just like in Palandur. Can you see those buildings inside the wall? Some of them look intact.”
Alain, using his attention to watch the ground and the ruins of the city behind them for danger, made a noncommittal sound. Another whistle sounded in the ruins facing the open area, just slightly ahead of Alain and Mari. Alain spotted a shape moving there and created a fireball, placing it near the dimly seen barbarian to cause an eruption of stone and broken wood. The entire building sagged, then collapsed in a prolonged roar.
The effort weakened him.
As if she had sensed that he would need her, Mari had already spun about and grabbed his arm, placing it over her shoulders as she kept moving. “Stay on your feet! They’re that close?”
“Some of them are.” Alain stumbled again, then got his feet under him with the help of Mari’s support. He wondered how many more fireballs he could manage before the effort would be too much. Certainly he could risk no more before they reached cover.
Mari had her arm tightly about his waist, locking them together and supporting Alain, though she was still staring toward the wall. “Hang on to me,” she said, urging them both forward at the best pace Alain could manage.
Another set of whistles sounded. Mari pulled out her Mechanic weapon with her free hand, pointed it toward the blank, ruined facades of the buildings facing the open area and fired, the crash of the shot sounding very loud and sparking panicked birds into flight.
“Can you see them?” Alain asked.
“No. Even if I could see them I couldn’t hit them at this range. But maybe I can scare them into keeping their heads down.” She put the weapon back inside her coat and tugged at Alain. “Come on, my Mage. You can do it. It can’t be much farther to the gate.”
If it is much farther, we will not make it. Alain concentrated on keeping his feet moving, knowing speed was their only hope now.
Mari gave a gasp of joy. “There it is.” She pulled him in toward the wall at a sharper angle, their feet crashing through the dry grass which had grown since the last burn-off and now stood knee-high in places.
Alain looked in the direction Mari was guiding them, seeing a large gate of heavy timbers reinforced with
They staggered to a halt before the gate as another set of whistles sounded, making it clear that their pursuers now had them boxed in. Mari pounded on the gate, yelling. “Inside the wall! Let us in!” No reply came. “Alain, can you get us through that door?”
He shook his head. “I am too tired. A small hole, perhaps…”
“That won’t do any good! This thing has to be locked with a heavy bar of some kind. Inside the gate! Please let us in!” Still no answer. He could hear the desperation growing in Mari’s voice. “Alain, can you set fire to the door? If we can hold them off long enough for the fire to eat a hole in it—”
Her words cut off as a crossbow bolt flew down from one of the sentry towers to thud quivering into the dirt nearby. A figure was visible in that tower now, looking down at them. The lowering sun lit him up well enough to see that his clothing was frayed but neat and his armor polished. Unlike the barbarians, he was also clean and shaven. As Mari watched, the sentry picked up another crossbow and pointed it at her. “Go!”
Mari pointed toward the city. “They’ll kill us!”
“That’s not our affair.” His words were also archaic in accent, but clear. “We don’t meddle in the city beyond our walls.”
“You can’t do this! You can’t turn away people who need safety!”
The figure gestured, and several more men and women appeared on both sentry towers, all aiming their own crossbows. “We don’t take in anyone from the city.”
“We’re not from the city, you blasted common idiot!” Mari shouted. “Didn’t you hear the shots I fired? How many working Mechanic weapons do you think there are in this blasted, hateful, smashed excuse for a city?”
“Mari,” Alain said through his attempts to catch his breath, “that may not be the best way to gain their cooperation.”
The guard hesitated, then brought his crossbow to his shoulder. “You lie. We heard the sounds, but no one here knows what a Mechanic weapon sounds like. I will not warn you again. Go or—”
“Wait!” Mari turned to Alain. “Quick. Get your robes out and put them on.” She was kneeling as she said it, pulling open her own pack. “Hurry!”
Alain did, finding the carefully folded robes, yanking them out and hastily donning them. By the time he was done Mari had her Mechanics jacket out and had traded her coat for it. Then Mari looked up at the sentry towers again. “You must remember what this jacket means and what those robes mean. I am Master Mechanic Mari of Caer Lyn. This is the Mage Alain of Ihris. We are not from Marandur. Please let us in.”
Alain could see the figures above staring and pointing. The one who had first spoken came to the edge of the tower to gaze down at them. “A Mechanic and a Mage? Together? What has happened in the world to bring this about?”
“If you want to know,” Mari shouted back, “you’ll have to let us in.”
Unexpectedly, the man grinned. “A fair trade, it seems. It has been a long time since this place has seen any members of your Guilds.” He called down to someone inside the gate. “Open! Quickly!” Then to the other figures on the sentry towers. “Keep watch for the barbarians!” They raised their crossbows and aimed out across the open area toward the city.
Mari reached and grabbed Alain’s hand. He gripped hers tightly in reply, hearing sounds on the other side of the gate. Slowly, it creaked open a small distance. Mari grabbed her pack and darted for the opening, dragging Alain along. He had just enough room to get through the gap behind her, pulling his pack in last, then they were inside and several people were hastily pushing the gate shut again and sliding a heavy beam across the back to seal it.
Mari threw her arms around Alain, laughing with relief, then kissed him hard. “I told you we’d make it, my Mage,” she said, breathless from the kiss and their exertions.
“You were right, as always, my Mechanic.” He held her tightly as well, then looked around to see faces staring at them in total bafflement. “We will have a lot to explain to these people,” Alain murmured to Mari.
* * * *
The furnishings were old and worn, most of the windows boarded over, and candles provided only a weak illumination, but the large room still felt like a paradise after even a few days amid the ruins of Marandur. Mari and Alain were both seated in chairs facing one side of a long table. Several men and women were seated along the other side. All wore the robes of professors among the common people, though those robes showed signs of long wear. “I am Wren of Marandur, Master of the Professorship of the University of Marandur in Marandur, by grace of the emperor,” a woman with gray-streaked hair announced. “Together with these others, we are the masters of the university. Who are you?”
Alain let Mari talk. She smiled politely, indicating Alain. “As we told your people at the gate, this is the Mage Alain of Ihris. I am Master Mechanic Mari of Caer Lyn.”
“Ihris. Caer Lyn,” another of the professors noted in a drained voice. “How long has it been since those cities were represented here?”
“You know that as well as the rest of us,” Professor Wren replied tersely. “Tell me, Lady Master Mechanic, how did you come to be here?” Listening to her was like reading the words of someone from almost two hundred years before. Which, Alain realized, in many ways she was, since the university had been isolated for so long.
“We entered Marandur from the north two days ago,” Mari said, speaking in a firm voice as if she were the one in authority here and merely bringing the commons up to date on her activities. “After coming through the city and crossing the Ospren River, we came under attack by those savages who still live in Marandur. Fleeing them, we came upon your wall and knew civilized people still lived there.”
The professors waited for a moment after Mari finished as if expecting more, then Wren spoke again. “Why did you enter Marandur? Does not the emperor’s ban still stand?”
“Yes,” Mari admitted, “it still stands. We had business in the city, seeking something I sought to find in the ruins of the old Mechanics Guild Headquarters.”
“Something important enough to bring a sentence of death upon the pair of you?” asked a third professor, perhaps the oldest of the group. “What could this be?”
“I sought manuscripts from the vaults. But they were gone.”
The professors all kept the same expressions, but Alain, used to watching Mages trying their best to conceal emotion, could see something flicker across the faces of the men and women facing them. What could it mean? “Do you know anything of those records?” he asked.
Another, stronger flicker, even as Professor Wren shook her head with every outward appearance of regret. “No idea, I am afraid.”
The direct denial revealed clearly, to the eyes of a Mage, that she was lying. But why? “That is unfortunate,” Alain said, deciding to wait and learn more before confronting the professors over their lie.
Wren nodded, her movements quick with nervousness. “You, too, are concerned with Mechanics Guild records? Tell us, Sir Mage, what brought you along with the Mechanic? Was this by order of your Guild? Has some remarkable event caused the Mechanics and Mages to be reconciled?”
Alain shook his own head, realizing as he did so that he was once again adopting the mask of a Mage to conceal his own feelings. “Our Guilds still dislike and distrust each other. I came with Lady Mari for reasons of my own.”
“You embraced her!” another female professor exclaimed in bewildered tones. “She did the same to you! She kissed you! And your ages! You’re both very young. If you had not already demonstrated your powers as a Mage, if she had not already given proof of her status as a Mechanic, we would not believe it.”
Mari sat silent, her jaw clenching with stubborn pride. Alain could see her face hardening at the mention of her youth. He gave the woman professor a bland look, his voice still betraying nothing. “I have come to enjoy the company of this particular Mechanic.”
All of the professors stared back, then one slumped in his chair. “The world outside our gates has gone mad.”
Mari exhaled slowly, then looked at them with cool authority, becoming even more the Mechanic as she posed her own question. “What of you? Everyone was supposed to be gone from Marandur. All of Marandur was supposed to be a place of death and ruins. Yet here we find life and purpose.”
Professor Wren nodded. “Our ancestors chose to disregard the edict of the Emperor Palan to leave this city. They had all sworn an oath to the old emperor, you see, to remain in these offices for life, and most of them interpreted that phrase literally as applying to the buildings. The university hadn’t been too badly damaged in the battle compared to the rest of the city, because the rebels did not occupy it. Our ancestors never found out why, they just gave thanks.”
Wren shrugged. “There was discussion that surely the Emperor Palan didn’t mean to include the university in his edict. By the time everyone realized that he did, it was too late for those who had tarried. Here they were, here they stayed, and as they wed and had children, here we came to be. We have kept the form of the university all these years, making the most learned and senior among us the professors and masters, while most of those living here are labeled students even though they devote far more time to the tasks of survival than they do to studies.”
“Have you ever tried to petition subsequent emperors?” Mari asked. “Surely if they knew-”
“Emperors do not accept petitions from the dead, Lady Mechanic,” a professor stated with a coldness born of lack of hope. “We would need to be alive to have such a petition considered by the emperor, and we cannot be alive until the emperor considers such a petition. To the Imperial bureaucracy, such a dilemma is an unfortunate byproduct of the rules by which they operate, but certainly not in their eyes grounds for changing those rules.”
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