“Why?” Alain asked. “Why must young Mages die, Mage Asha? Could you learn that?”
“No one admitted to deliberately seeking the elimination or discrediting of those judged too young. You know what we were taught: that skill and wisdom alone determine whether one can be a Mage. No physical issue such as age should have any bearing on the matter, for all is illusion,” Asha explained. “Instead, I was told, sometimes those given Mage status are unwilling to accept guidance from their elders and thus lack sufficient wisdom. Sometimes they have yet to become themselves, their nature still in flux. Sometimes they are more prone to feelings, lacking enough self-control.”
“How could those arguments be aimed at me or other young Mages?” Alain asked.
“Focus not on the illusion of the words but on what they conceal,” Asha advised. “Turn those points about and you see what the elders reject. Who questions the wisdom of elders, Mage Alain? The young. Who changes the most in a short time as they age? The young. Who feels the changes of the body the most strongly as it grows, making self-control indeed more difficult? The young. Unpredictable. Questioning. Prey to the emotions given extra strength by the changes in their bodies.” Asha shook her head. “You, like other Mages deemed too young, were judged too likely to err, too likely to seek new answers, too likely to challenge the elders. And this is what you have done, though perhaps that only happened under the force of the elders’ attempts to eliminate you.”
“Self-fulfilling prophecies,” Mari said, seeing both Mages turn questioning looks upon her. “That’s a saying for when you create the conditions that make a prediction come true. Your elders said that young Mages would fail, and then set them up to fail. Your elders believed that Alain would deviate from what they call wisdom, and they forced him into circumstances in which he did just that. So they were correct, because they did things to make themselves be correct.”
Alain nodded to Mari. “Wisdom which justifies itself.”
“But why not just admit those concerns?” Mari asked. “Why not say you need a certain level of maturity before you can be a Mage, whether it’s true or not? My Guild has done that, setting experience requirements in place that mean in the future no one else can be promoted as fast as I was, regardless of how well they master Mechanic arts.”
This time Alain shook his head. “The elders cannot admit such a thing. As Asha said, a fundamental aspect of the wisdom they teach is that the physical is irrelevant. Nothing is real.”
“Wow,” Mari commented. “We’ve gone days without you saying nothing is real, and I haven’t missed it at all.”
“But it is so by the wisdom Mages are taught,” Alain said. “If nothing is real, to say that the physical body in fact creates conditions which prevent anyone from being a Mage would be to undermine much of what they teach.”
“As Mage Alain said in Severun,” Asha added, “the wisdom we were taught is lacking. The elders should examine where the errors lie and make changes, but instead they cling to what they know.”
Mari couldn’t help a short, sardonic laugh. “Just like what Professor S’san and I talked about with the Senior Mechanics who control the Mechanics Guild. Different wisdom, but the same refusal to contemplate changes.”
“Mari,” Alain said with a visibly surprised look, “the reasons Mage Asha gives for my elders moving against me are in part the same reasons your professor gave for your Guild’s hostility to you. There also we see similarities.”
“You’re right.” Mari sat back, trying to think. “Do you remember one of the first things we talked about after we met? How your elders and my Senior Mechanics seemed to have a lot in common? I wonder if every group of managers who becomes used to being in charge, who is dedicated to nothing more than keeping things the same and themselves in power, ends up acting in the same ways even if they use different justifications? They don’t want anyone questioning their decisions or their authority.” Something else occurred to her then. “Questions. Asha, you must have asked a lot of questions to find out all of this. You took some serious risks.”
“I have attracted the attention and disapproval of the elders,” Asha said, the lack of feeling in her voice providing no clue as to how she felt about that. “However, I have attracted such attention and disapproval before.”
“You have?”
Alain gestured toward Asha. “I have told you, Mari, that Mage Asha could never appear other than attractive.”
Mari stared at Asha. “You actually got in trouble because you were beautiful? Seriously?”
“My appearance,” Asha said, “must surely be my fault, must surely reveal a lack of wisdom.”
“What were you supposed to do about it?”
Asha’s shoulders twitched very slightly in what might have been a Mage shrug. “I could have shorn my hair, scarred and damaged my skin, broken things to make them heal in misshapen ways
—
”
“No!” Mari burst out, horrified. “That would be so wrong. Hurting yourself that way? Maiming yourself? Please don’t ever do that.”
Asha gazed at Mari for a long moment before replying. “I have been hurt before, Mari. It is nothing. But to harm my features would have served no purpose. To strike at my appearance would have been proof that I took note of it, and would have condemned me in the eyes of the elders just as much as how I look now.”
“No matter what you did, you’d be wrong?” Mari asked. “You know, back when Alain and I first met, I was really surprised that a Mage and I could have something in common. Now I’m learning that a female Mage and I have something in common, too. I’m glad you never hurt yourself. I’m sorry I freaked out earlier. I know I’m a little weird at times and I’m sorry. I just…” Mari hesitated, her voice sinking to a whisper. “I love you so much, Alain. I don’t want you to be hurt. Especially not because of me. And sometimes thinking about that makes it hard to handle everything else. I’ve got a world to save, but it wouldn’t mean anything if I lost you.”
“It must be difficult to see others as real instead of as shadows,” Asha said.
“It is difficult,” Alain agreed. “There is much pain to be found in such seeing. But there is also much joy.”
“Joy?”
“You will know it when you feel it,” he assured her. “I begin to suspect that none are shadows, but all are real for good or ill.”
Asha nodded, her eyes intent. “I will think on this, and look upon the shadows who cross my path. Do your powers diminish yet, Mage Alain?”
“My powers grow, Mage Asha, even as my love for Mari grows.”
Mari felt her face getting warmer again, but this time her blush came along with a smile.
“Your powers do not just remain as they were? They still grow?” Asha’s astonishment was clear to Mari.
“There is no doubt. I was able to test them in Marandur, and was forced to use them there to a greater extent than ever before. I am more powerful now.”
“Then you do learn a different wisdom, and perhaps a better one as well, Mage Alain. Perhaps the elders were right to fear you.” Asha looked around. “It is not safe that I stay here. The Guild Hall will expect me back to help watch the gates for your departure, Alain. If I can, I will tell you when it is safe to leave this city.”
Mari leaned forward, touching Asha again on the hand, pleased and surprised when Asha did not recoil. “You don’t have to keep risking yourself for us.”
“Is that not what a friend does?”
“Yes.” Mari smiled. “And you are a friend. But friends also worry, and hope that their own friends are safe. Please be careful, Asha.”
“Please?”
“It means I’m asking you if you’ll do something, not telling you.”
“I see. Please. I will remember this word, but not use it around Mages.” Asha stood up, bringing her hood up around her head, then turned to go without another word.
Mari waited until she had left, then rose and locked the door again. “You could have said goodbye, Alain.”
“It did not occur to me when speaking with another Mage,” Alain admitted.
“Then next time I’ll remind you. Did Asha really suffer a lot more from the elders because she’s beautiful?”
“She did,” Alain said, his eyes once more getting the distant gaze of someone looking into their memories. “Asha was often berated as an acolyte for being too attractive. Some thought that meant she was too closely tied to the false world of appearances. This caused her distress, which was reason for more attacks on her by the elders for showing emotion. I know that as an acolyte Asha considered her appearance a true burden, and it was.”
“But you helped her at least once, right?”
“Only once,” Alain said. “The punishment was severe enough to dissuade me from trying any further, and I could see in Asha that she would avoid being helped again so as to protect me from more such punishment.” He paused, dredging up a memory. “I remember that once Asha did speak of changing her appearance. An elder spoke with her, and later that same elder told us that any attempt to damage Asha’s appearance would show a greater flaw than her beauty.”
“An elder convinced her not to mutilate herself?”
“Yes.” Alain shook his head. “Did that elder act out of kindness? I had never suspected such before, but today I wonder.”
Mari stared out the grimy window of their room. “I guess even the Mage Guild has some elders who care about people.”
“Perhaps. One elder I spoke with in Dorcastle cared about me, the one who told me what my vision meant, and that you were the daughter. She cautioned me to tell no one else and to protect you. How many Mages have kept hidden the feelings they were supposed to have forgotten? I had thought myself alone in that, but there may be many Mages who have remained silent, who keep their feelings concealed, but who would welcome a different path.” Alain gave an impression of subdued distress. “The wisdom the Mage Guild now teaches requires a very difficult path, one with much hardship.”
“Alain, I’ve seen the marks it left on you. It must have been horrible.”
“It was what it was,” Alain replied in a low voice. “Acolytes learned to deal with it. We had no choice.”
“I couldn’t have done it.”
He gave her his most serious look. “Yes, you could have. But I am glad that you did not have to endure what Mage Asha and I did.”
Mari looked out the window again. “As hard as things are, I guess we can be thankful that they weren’t worse. We’ve made it this far, and even though I feel at times like it’s us against the world, we’ve got friends like Asha. Oh, stars above, I forgot that I went out for food. You’re probably really hungry. Let’s get something to eat from what I bought in the market and pack up the rest just in case we have to leave in a hurry.”
Their involuntary day in Palandur drew to a slow close, Mari watching the shadows shift as the sun fell lower in the sky. By the time the sun set, she was restless and nervous. “Hopefully, the way will be clear to escape this city-sized trap in the morning. Maybe the Mages will give up quickly.”
“Mages can be very patient,” Alain said.
That made her laugh briefly. “I should know that by now. They’ll wait, you think?”
“Perhaps for several days. If they believe I am in the city,” Alain added, “they may search for me inside it as well. Do you think we should take watches tonight?”
Mari gave another worried glance out the dirty window. “Yeah, I do. I can’t sleep right now, so you go ahead. I’ll wake you about midnight.” Mari didn’t bother lighting the candle on the room’s small, rickety table. She sat near the grimy window, staring out at the night sky barely visible between other buildings. For a while, there were lights outside, torches illuminating the fronts of a few taverns, but as the evening wore on those were extinguished and the night grew darker. Early in the night, too, there was constant traffic on the hostel’s stairs, the creaking and clattering easy to hear as courtesans and their customers went to and from rooms. Mari tried not to listen to the sounds coming from the rooms next to hers and Alains, and eventually those quieted along with the dwindling of the noise from the stairs.
She wondered what the next day would bring. Some danger, if the past was any guide.
Despite her nerves, the long day after many long hard days wore on her, and Mari began to get drowsy as the hostel and the streets outside grew silent. Her head kept sagging, her eyes closing, mind fuzzy with fatigue.
The headache came out of nowhere, dispelling sleep as Mari winced at a sudden stab of pain. She came to full alertness as another stab, more painful than the first, made her head throb. Mari pressed her hands against the sides of her head, trying to guess the cause of the pain. She rarely had headaches, making this one even more bizarre. A third stab hit, more intense yet.
Mari bent over, screwing her eyes shut against the last blast of pain. She waited, bracing herself for another shock.
But no more stabs came. Mari cautiously straightened up again, trying to find any trace of unusual pain in her head and finding none. She looked around, judging from the silence outside and inside the hostel that it must be close to midnight.
Wood creaked somewhere, a tiny sound that she probably wouldn’t have noticed when drowsy. Now, fully alert, Mari perceived it clearly in the stillness that otherwise enveloped the hostel. Mari held her breath, listening as intently as she could. Leather mattress supports squeaked in one of the adjacent rooms. Someone in that room muttered something that could barely be heard through the thin walls.
Wood creaked again. The staircase. Who would be so careful coming up it? Those who had used it earlier in the night had clumped up or down without caring who they bothered. But now someone was trying not to make any noise.
Trying to sneak up stairs.
Trying to get up here without anyone hearing them.
She got up, trembling with the need to move both as quickly and as quietly as possible. Reaching for Alain, she shook him awake. Alain stared at her as Mari held a finger to her lips to signify the need for silence, then pantomimed danger. Alain rolled out of the bed, the rustling of the sheet sounding huge in the night. He pulled on his boots and reached for his pack. Mari did the same, blessing their habit of sleeping fully clothed in case of emergency.