The Assassins of Altis (2 page)

He felt a deeper chill inside at the thought of Mari dying. “I will not leave you. You never leave anyone behind, and I will not leave you.”

Mari gave him a thin-lipped, sad smile. “Alain, I’d never choose to leave you, either, but if I’m dead, I’ve already left you. The best thing you can do at that point is save yourself, because that’s what I would want. If you manage to get those texts to any of my friends, there might still be a chance to change the world, a chance to stop that storm of chaos that will destroy everything. Now promise me.”

Alain looked at her, fighting the emotions he still found unfamiliar and hard to control after so many years of training as a Mage to deny all feelings. The prophecy said that the daughter of Jules would overthrow the Great Guilds and change the world. It did not say that she would survive her victory. “Mari
—
”

Her face hardened, her voice unyielding. “
Promise me
, Alain. Promise you won’t throw away your life if I’m already dead.”

“If you die, then my life will mean nothing,” Alain replied miserably.

“Yes, it will! If you continue what I was trying to accomplish. If you love me you will want to finish what I was trying to do. Now promise.”

He finally nodded. “I promise that should you die I will try to bring these texts to safety and contact your friends.”

“Good. That applies if I’m captured, too. You’re not to try to rescue me.”

Alain frowned at her, upset enough that the emotion showed. “I will not promise that. If you are captured, I will try to free you.”

“
Alain…
”

“
No.
” He had gotten good enough at putting emotion into his words that his feelings on this must have been clear.

She gave him an aggravated glare, but must have been able to see that he would not bend on that. “Fine. Why did I get involved with a Mage?” Mari shifted her glare to the snow. “I know we’d agreed to go through the ruins because we’d be a lot harder for the barbarians to see than if we stuck to the relatively open ground along the river banks,” she said in an abrupt change of the subject. “Is that still a good idea? This snow is thickening fast.”

Alain squinted up at the sky again. “I think we would still be best going through the city. If this storm continues to worsen, we would catch its full fury on the exposed river banks, but in among the ruins those walls and buildings still standing will help break the worst of it.”

“Unless the storm breaks them first,” Mari observed acidly. As if on cue, a low rumble sounded somewhere in the distance, marking the collapse of one more long-abandoned building. “But you’re probably right. Once we start moving again, let’s not talk unless we absolutely have to so there’s less chance of those savages hearing us.”

She exhaled heavily, then kissed him again quickly. “I’m still unhappy you won’t promise to leave me if I’m captured, but I don’t want to go into danger mad at you. Just use your head, no matter what happens. I love you, my Mage.”

“I love you, my Mechanic,” Alain whispered in reply. It had taken a long time for him to be able say such a simple phrase, so alien was the concept of love to one taught the ways of Mages.

Alain followed as Mari moved cautiously among the wreckage cluttering what had once been a street through the city. Piles of debris blocked streets and other open areas, some dating to the fighting between rebels and Imperial legions a hundred and fifty years ago and some more recent, the result of slow disintegration of the ruins. Vacant buildings stood on all sides, their windows gaping on emptiness within, their walls and roofs broken in places large and small. Scattered everywhere were the remnants of ancient battle: broken and badly corroded armor and weapons and the white fragments of shattered bones from countless unburied bodies left behind after the legions withdrew. Most of the weapons were the swords, spears and crossbows used by common folk, but once in a while they glimpsed a broken Mechanic weapon like those Mari called rifles or pistols. The bone fragments, though, offered no clues as to who their owners had once been in life, whether rebels, legionaries, or helpless citizens caught in the fighting.

“I’d forgotten how very much I hate this place,” Mari mumbled just loudly enough for Alain to hear, unnerved enough to break her own rule.

He was deciding whether or not to reply when a black cloud seemed to drift across the street in front of them, then vanished. Alain’s hand went out to seize her shoulder while he breathed out a soft warning for silence. Mari stopped instantly, waiting while Alain peered into the gray-lit street ahead. Alain studied the area ahead of them, wishing he knew how to bring his foresight to work instead of hoping it would. But foresight was unreliable at the best of times, and now it offered no further signs. He brought his mouth close to Mari’s ear. “I saw a warning of danger ahead,” he murmured in a low voice. “We should go to the left or right some distance.”

Mari looked in those directions, both blocked by piles of debris, and shook her head at facing two equally bad choices. Alain watched as she did an odd ritual with her finger, pointing each way several times back and forth while muttering something under her breath. Whatever she was saying ended with her finger pointing right. Mari beckoned to Alain, then began moving that way even more cautiously.

Despite the danger, Alain felt an irrational glow of satisfaction that Mari did not question his foresight. Even many Mages regarded foresight with suspicion, though in their case mainly because it required an unwelcome personal connection to anyone the foresight offered warnings about. Mechanics simply dismissed it as fortune-telling.

But not his Mechanic. Mari believed in him.

The street to the right being blocked by rubble, they had to cut through the collapsed remains of what might have been a large store. The floor inside was covered with piles of rotting debris. Mari’s foot slipped and she fell sideways as some of the fragments turned under her. Alain grabbed at her arm, catching Mari just before she slid over a drop into a yawning pit which had been a basement. She stood still for a moment, then gave Alain a shaky smile. “Thanks,” she whispered.

They moved on in silence for a while, out back onto the rubble-strewn street, the falling snow helping to muffle the sound of their movement at the same time as it obscured dangerous spots beneath their feet and restricted their vision to all sides. After moving right for a while, Mari paused, looking around, then came close to Alain to whisper again, her breath a welcome warmth against his cheek. “I think I know this street. If the new Imperial capital of Palandur copied this part of Marandur, then if we take that street to our left we should be turning back to the southwest, heading directly for the city walls and moving parallel to the river.”

“Parallel?”

She gave him one of those looks again, the kind Mari used when he did not know something she thought everybody knew. “It’s basic geometry, Alain.”

“Geometry?”

“Alain, how can even a Mage possibly function without knowing any geometry?”

“Since I do not know what geometry is, I cannot answer that. I do function, though.”

“Yes, you do,” Mari admitted. They were very close together, the words they spoke barely audible to each other, the falling snow blocking out vision, as if they were alone inside a cocoon of white. “Parallel means…never mind. What I meant was if we go that way it will be the shortest route to the nearest section of the city walls and we won’t have to worry about running into the river.”

“I see. Why did you not say that before?”

Mari tensed, slapping one hand up to cover her face, then with a visible effort relaxed and lowered the hand. “Every time I start to feel superior to you I have to remind myself that you can do things I can’t even explain.” She pointed to the left and started off.

Alain nodded, following again as they traversed the new route, which was fairly clear until they reached a stretch where the fronts of several buildings had fallen into the street. As they struggled through the rubble, Alain heard a sudden intake of breath from Mari. Alarmed, he followed her gaze, to see that she was looking at the interior of one of the buildings which had lost its front.

Inside, the crumbling shapes of many human skeletons lay in rows, witness to ancient tragedy. Alain wondered who they had been. Citizens of the city who had taken shelter in the building only to be trapped and die, or who had been murdered by the rebels when they first took control of the city? Rebels, captured and executed by legionaries? Or legionaries, taken prisoner and killed, or perhaps badly wounded or killed in battle and taken here only to be forgotten?

Her face saddened, Mari turned away and continued moving carefully across the rubble.

It was hard to tell how much later it was that Mari stopped suddenly, crouching down. Alain went into a crouch, too, without asking why. It was strange, he thought, how good they had become at such things. Then Mari waved him up and pointed.

One of the rough paths made by the barbarians crossed their track just ahead. Alain studied it carefully, then leaned close to whisper in Mari’s ear. “Someone has traveled it recently enough to trample some of the snowfall. But it was long enough ago to allow the signs of their passage to be partly obscured by more snow.”

“Do we go ahead?” Mari whispered back.

“The path runs right across our route. If we do not cross it here, we will have to cross it somewhere else.”

She nodded reluctantly, one hand reaching toward her jacket, then lowering again. Mari moved ahead quickly, crossing the path in a rush.

Alain stayed right behind Mari, but as he watched her, watched where his feet were going and tried to watch the ruins around them through the concealing sheets of snow, Alain also felt for the power in this area. As in most parts of Marandur, the power here was fairly weak, and without that power to augment his own Alain could not alter what Mari called “reality” and which Mages knew to be an illusion that could be manipulated. The power available would have to do, though, so Alain prepared his mind for whatever spells might be needed.

They would have to be offensive spells. Bending light around himself and Mari to hide them would not work in this storm, where the blowing snow would reveal their location anyway. Alain resigned himself to having to use superheated balls of air which he could direct to any spot he could see, a very powerful spell but one which would drain his strength rapidly. He also drew out the long Mage knife he wore under his coat.

Mari had still not taken her weapon in hand as she crept forward. She paused, looking to all sides and listening for anyone coming, then beckoned to Alain and began moving ahead as quickly as she safely could.

Alain followed, but could not avoid letting a larger than usual gap form between him and Mari. Fortune created that gap, however, as it allowed Alain to see a shape rising out of an apparently solid pile of rubble immediately after Mari had passed it. The barbarian was too close to Mari to risk a fireball, so Alain swung the hilt of his Mage knife against the back of the man’s head.

Mari turned at the noise, staring at the barbarian sprawled at her feet. Then her eyes widened as they looked past Alain. He didn’t see her draw out her weapon, but suddenly it was in her hand as she aimed past him. Alain dove forward as the boom of the Mechanic weapon filled the battered street and something made a loud crack in the air over him. He scrambled up beside Mari, seeing another barbarian falling backwards, staggering like a drunkard but with a spreading red stain on his chest. As the wounded man fell, more shapes rose up behind him. Mari aimed again, but even though her finger quivered on the weapon she did not fire the pistol.

“Mari?” Alain asked.

“They’re not attacking,” Mari said, her voice strained..

Alain studied the dark shapes cautiously. “They are small.”

“Small?” Mari jerked, her expression reflecting sudden shock and horror. “Oh, Alain, they’re children. Stars above, what if I had shot again?”

“We have stumbled on a village. I would not assume that it is safe to ignore the children, but we should run if we do not want to kill them.”

“Where are all the other adults?” Mari’s weapon quested from side to side as she searched the falling snow for signs of further attack.

“Perhaps they are waiting in ambush where we would have gone if we had not cut to the right for a while.”

The shapes of the larger children were beginning to creep toward them cautiously. Mari grimaced. “Which means the other adults heard my shot and are probably racing this way right now.”

Without another word she spun and started running toward the walls of Marandur, her pace reckless in the snow-covered rubble. Alain followed, only occasionally pausing to look back for any pursuers. They scrambled up and down piles of debris, moving hastily through the ruins. Mari cut left, weaving between fallen buildings, and Alain followed, guessing that she was trying to confuse anyone trying to follow.

A dark, menacing shape loomed up before them, causing Mari to swing to one side with a muffled cry and aim her weapon, but then she lowered it with a gasp of relief. “It’s a wrecked siege machine,” she whispered to Alain. He followed her past the crumbling remains of a large Imperial ballista, its outlines vague in the snow so that it seemed almost troll-like.

The snow was coming thicker now, and the sky had darkened as the afternoon drew on. With visibility getting worse by the moment, Mari had to slow down. Alain could hear her gasping for breath, and himself felt the strain of scrambling quickly through the hazardous obstacles after a long day already spent picking their way through the ruins. They struggled through a heavily damaged area where no buildings stood at all, just higher and lower piles of ruin, leaping across occasional gaps that were all that was left of the streets which had run between the buildings.

Mari had slowed to a stumbling walk, so Alain came up beside her. “Can you keep moving, or should we seek a hiding place?”

“They’re after us, Alain,” she wheezed. “If we stop, they’ll catch us.”

“I do not hear the whistling they use to signal each other, but I agree.”

“If they did whistle, at least we’d have some idea how close they are. How are you doing?” Mari asked him.

“Weary, but I can keep moving,” Alain assured her.

“Same here.” Mari was peering ahead. “On this side of the river, the distance from the university to the city wall shouldn’t be nearly as far as we had to come when we sneaked into the city. I have no idea how much distance we’ve covered so far, but it shouldn’t be much farther to the wall.”

Alain put his arm about Mari, supporting and comforting her as they struggled through another badly damaged area. That brought hope to Alain, since they knew some of the areas of worst damage were near the walls, where the rebels had made their initial stand once the walls were breached.

“Stars above, we made it,” Mari sobbed, as the high, thick stone walls which had formerly protected the city of Marandur rose out of the murkiness of the storm and the fading day. Great gaps were visible in the walls, places where Imperial siege machines, Mechanic weapons, and the spell creatures of Mages had broken the mighty stones and tumbled them inward upon the buildings they had once defended.

Mari slowed down, walking very cautiously toward the nearest break in the wall. She reached the wall and stopped completely, breathing heavily as she looked out through the jagged hole in the wall. Even through the thickly falling snow they could spot faint glows in the fields beyond: bonfires burning in front of and on the Imperial watch towers outside the city. “We have to wait here a while. It’s barely dark, and even with the snow I’d prefer waiting until later to sneak through those Imperial sentries.”

Alain nodded, breathing deeply himself. “We have been going very fast. I would like a chance to recover before we try getting past the legionaries. If we have need of spells, I will require my strength.”

“That makes it unanimous.” Mari sat down against the wall near the break, facing in toward the ruined city, her weapon cradled in both hands. She stared at it and closed her eyes. Then her expression took on a grim and reluctant determination and Mari opened her eyes again and lowered the weapon’s front so it rested ready to defend them. “It’s a tool,” she said, as much to herself as to him. “It can be used for bad purposes, or good purposes. I have to ensure that I only use it when I must, and only for the best of reasons. I wish I didn’t need it, but I do.”

Alain sat down beside her, peering into the swirling snow. “Your words are wise,” he told her. “I increasingly feel the same about my spells which can harm.” As nervous as he was about the barbarians tracking them to this spot, he was more worried now about trying to get past the Imperial sentries. “I am assuming there will be a Mage alarm set around this part of the city as well, just as there was where we came in on the northern side.”

“Yeah.” Mari sat silent for a moment. “Maybe the snow and the ruins muffled the sound of the one shot I fired back there and the Imperials didn’t hear it. I don’t see any sign that they’re more alert than usual. Do you sense any Mages anywhere near us?”

“No,” Alain said. “I sense no other Mages at all.”

“Why don’t you sound happy about that?”

“Because there should be some trace of Mages,” Alain explained. “The Imperials employ some Mages to help maintain their quarantine of Marandur. Why can I not sense any even at a distance now, as I did when we entered the city?”

She inhaled with a hiss of breath. “They’re hiding themselves just like you are?”

“I believe so. It would mean they are alert and prepared. The sound of your weapon may have carried far enough to warn them something is happening in the city. We must assume there may be a Mage, or more than one, not far distant. I must be very careful about using any spells at all, or our chance of discovery will become much greater.”

“Wonderful.” Mari sometimes used words when she appeared to mean the exact opposite, such as now. Alain could not think of anything about this situation which he would call wonderful. “If we’re lucky,” she continued, “the Imperials will hole up in their watch towers during the storm. If we’re unlucky, they’ll increase the number of patrols just in case someone’s trying to use the storm as cover to enter or leave the city. Maybe they heard enough noise from my one shot to alert the Mages, but if nothing else happens for a while they’ll relax again and decide the boom was something collapsing. Once it gets dark enough, we’ll find out just how alert the Imperials are tonight for people trying to sneak out of this city instead of trying to sneak into it.”

“Who would be fools enough to sneak into Marandur?” Alain asked. “Who would want to enter a dead city in ruins when the Emperor has decreed that anyone doing so must die themselves?”

Mari looked over at him and grinned despite the worry he could see in her. “You’re getting good at sarcasm, too. I hope I’m not creating a monster. And no, I don’t mean ‘creating a monster’ in the same way you Mages do.” She kept her voice just loud enough for Alain to hear, her eyes going back to searching the ruins for any signs of the barbarians. “But you’re right. Only fools would have done it.”

Mari sounded concerned and weary to Alain, so he moved a little closer, offering his shoulder, and she leaned against it with a happy sigh even though her weapon remained ready and her eyes alert. “But it was a good idea,” Mari continued. “With the technology in the banned Mechanic manuscripts we found we can really change things. If we have enough time."

"And if we can reach the island of Altis," Alain said, "and find there the tower which is spoken of in those manuscripts. It will be a long journey, filled with many hazards. You are certain we must go to Altis?"

"Yes," Mari said without any hesitation. "The notes on that page of the manuscripts said records of 'all things' are kept in that tower. That note must have been written a long time ago, but old records are exactly what we need. Unless we can learn something about the history of our world, something about how it ended up the way it is, we won't know how to fix things. We have to go to Altis and find that tower, even if it is in ruins now, and learn what we can from any surviving records. People expect me to change the world, to make it better, but I can't fix something that big unless I know how it came to be broken."

"Then we must go to Altis." Alain could feel against his back the edges of the water-tight package in his own pack which held his share of the manuscripts. Mari had shown him some of the Mechanic documents, but he had understood none of them. He did know that Mari was convinced that these texts could change the world, and that was enough for Alain.

“You’re very quiet,” Mari whispered to him. The snow had kept falling, and was now coating them as well the ruins. “Talk to me. It’s cold and I’m scared. What are you thinking about?”

“I was thinking that none of my fellow Mages would be able to understand what I am doing,” Alain admitted. “They, like me, were taught that the world we see is an illusion and that all people are but shadows on that illusion. We were told that the works of Mechanics were all tricks. They are obedient to the Mage Guild because that is drilled into us as young children. Yet here I am, having thrown off the discipline of my Guild, which seeks my death. I have decided that at least one other person is a thing of a great value, having fallen in love with that person despite my training to reject all feelings, and she moreover a Mechanic, member of a Guild which is the ancestral enemy of the Mage Guild. Other Mages would think me mad.”

In the gathering gloom, Alain sensed more than saw the smile on Mari’s face. “Maybe not every Mage. That old girlfriend of yours was trying to understand.”

“Mage Asha was never my girlfriend. Why do you keep calling her that?”

“Because I don’t believe you, my Mage,” Mari said. “But that’s okay. Asha felt like a good person trapped in a Mage’s teachings, just like you were before I met you and, uh, ‘ensnared’ you. She tried to help us back at Severun. I hope she’s all right.”

“Yes,” Alain agreed. “It would be…nice to have more friends, after so long being alone.”

Mari’s voice took on that slight edge it still sometimes did when talking about Asha. “Just as long as she doesn’t try to get
too
friendly with you.” She looked out over the dead city. “Alain, if we fail, if we can’t break the grip that your guild and my guild have on Dematr, the whole world could end up looking like this.”

“It
will
end up looking like this,” Alain said. “Within a few years at most. Uncontrolled wars, breakdown of the governments of the common folk, mobs, rioting, the same anarchy that has riven what once was the country of Tiae in the south. The efforts of our former Guilds to control the bedlam will only magnify the chaos, until the Guilds are swept away along with all else.”

“Unless…” Mari drew in a deep breath. “Unless the daughter of Jules stops it by overthrowing the Great Guilds first. Alain, why is it me? Jules died centuries ago. Who knows how many women descended from her have lived since then? And I don’t even believe that she’s actually my ancestor. Why me? Why now?”

“I do not know for certain,” Alain said. “I would say that it must be now, because no more time remains. And I would say it must be you, because there is no one else who could do it.”

“Neither of those conclusions is particularly comforting,” Mari grumbled.

They sat quietly then for a while, listening for trouble, watching for danger, as the darkness grew heavier along with the snowfall. The wind had calmed, and aside from the gentle hiss of the falling snow nothing moved or made a noise. But Alain distrusted that sense of peace, wondering what moved silently beyond their very short range of vision.

Some pieces of rubble rattled not too far away, a tiny avalanche of debris that brought both Mari and Alain to full alertness. The heavily falling snow made it hard to tell exactly where the noise had come from. Mari stood up very slowly and carefully, trying not to make a sound, snow cascading from her as she rose. Alain waited until she was ready, then he did the same, snow showering off his body with a soft murmur.
Perhaps it was just the nearest ruins shifting as they decay. Perhaps.
A scraping sound came from somewhere close by, as if something had rubbed up against something else.
But I do not believe it.

Alain put his mouth to Mari’s ear, speaking as quietly as he could. “They are out there. I am sure of it. We must go now.”

She nodded wordlessly, then lifted one foot, moved it slowly to the side, brought it down with great care, then slid a little ways along the wall. Alain followed, his eyes and ears straining for any more signs of their pursuers. A fight now would surely alert the Imperial watch towers.

Another rattle not far away. Alain thought it might have come from their left. Mari kept moving as soundlessly as possible, easing right with her back against the wall, almost to the nearest gap now where the wall had been breached long ago.

Alain clearly heard a foot come down in the snow, then the rasping of breath from more than one man.
They are almost on top of us.
He reached for Mari’s arm and pushed her toward the break in the wall, knowing that only speed could save them now.

Mari jumped, grabbing the edge of a huge, broken stone to steady herself, then vanishing around the corner. Alain leaped after her, hearing the rush of feet and the rattle of debris as their pursuers also abandoned any attempt at stealth. He made the corner, rounding it into the break just as hands grabbed at him. Alain lunged forward and down into the opening in the wall, trying to break the grip and found himself staring up at Mari, who had her Mechanic weapon in her hand and was swinging it like a club instead of firing it. He heard the thud of the weapon’s impact against something, then the hands on him let go and Mari was pulling Alain up and along. The ancient wall was thick here near its base. They had to skid across broken, massive stones slick with snow, not knowing in the murk how much farther they had to go. Then they suddenly dropped into darkness.

Alain had only a moment to feel the fear of the fall before they landed in a snow drift which had piled up on the outside of the walls. He and Mari staggered out of the drift, not knowing whether their foes would try to chase them beyond the -city walls. They had not gone more than a short distance before they heard the unmistakable thumps of more bodies landing in the snow drift behind them.