The Dragons of Dorcastle by Jack Campbell
He sat in his room as if meditating, but his thoughts were centered not on wisdom but on Mari. She would seek to learn more about the dragons imperiling Dorcastle. Amid all of his uncertainties, Alain felt sure of that. Mari would seek to find the answers, the way to “fix” the dragon problem. And that in turn would very likely lead her into danger.
He did not know exactly what to do, but if Mari would be facing danger then he needed to be close to her. He needed to “help” her, by learning what he could.
His plan for the immediate future decided, Alain went to the dining rooms and ate a quick meal, barely aware of the food and drink, then sought out the other Mages the elder had said were still at the hall. By nightfall he had been able to talk to them about the predations of the dragons and what the Guild had been doing to try to stop the spell creatures. The latest attempt involved trying to use spells to trace the common people the dragons claimed to be holding prisoner. Those people were being forced to write out the dragons’ ransom demands. In theory, some connection to the persons might be discovered using the ransom documents which had mysteriously appeared in the city from time to time. Alain nodded with understanding, thinking of his thread to Mari, though of course he was not so foolish as to mention that. But he was not surprised to hear that the Mages undertaking this effort, having no ties to the shadows they sought to trace, had seen no success.
Later Alain lay in bed in a small room with bare, white walls, staring at the ceiling and trying to think through what he had learned. Worrying about Mari, about what he should do, only led his thoughts in circles, so he tried to concentrate on the problem posed by the dragons. They do not act like dragons, yet the destruction they have wrought seems the work of dragons. They are here, but cannot be found. As the elder said, even this false world is supposed to maintain its illusion in a predictable way.
My training told me that I must obey my elders and deny this world. I have already chosen a different path than I was instructed to seek, but I would not have found it alone. Acolytes are not taught that any other way exists. Is this why some Mages become Dark Mages, because they decide to cease obedience but can see no other road, no purpose for their powers beyond personal gain?
Mari would not lead me down such a path. If I know anything now, it is that. She believes that wisdom lies in helping.
Is that what will enable her to defeat the storm?
If the storm does not destroy her. I must tell Mari about that vision.
I must protect her.
At that thought, he could feel that insubstantial thread leading to Mari strengthen. He despaired inside, wondering how he could protect Mari if his emotions caused him to lose the ability to cast Mage spells.
Oddly, though, he felt no weakness. Instead, a strength filled him. In some way Alain could not understand, that strength did not come through the thread, but owed its existence to the existence of a thread that was not there. And there was no one he could ask about that.
* * * *
He learned little more the next day. For dragons, the creatures terrorizing Dorcastle had left few signs of themselves aside from the occasional act of destruction. Down at the harbor he heard sailors gloomily discussing the lack of trade. Ships would not sail for fear of being set upon once away from Dorcastle’s defenses, and so the cargo coming down the Silver River by barge from the inner lands of the Bakre Confederation piled up in warehouses and sailors went unpaid.
His mind preoccupied with thoughts of a storm of ghostly armies and mobs, Alain could not help noticing and marveling at Dorcastle’s stout defenses. They brought a sense of reassurance and solidity against the urgent warning of the vision he had experienced in the desert.
Alain stopped at two of the monuments to past battles, finding them as true to history as Ringhmon’s had been false. Dorcastle wore its glory lightly, honoring past triumphs without exalting them and memorializing past sacrifices. There was as well a grimness to Dorcastle’s monuments, a sense that the costs had been necessary but must be remembered in any celebration of victory. It was hard to imagine a greater contrast with Ringhmon.
As the sun sank behind the cliffs to the west of the city, Alain finally made his way to the eating place where Mechanic Mari had said she would be. The thread, sometimes so thin with distance that it had grown weak, was now strong enough to tell him that she was there well before he reached the restaurant.–Just short of the place Alain went into an alley and pulled off his Mage robes, folding them into his bag again. He could not help imagining how the commons in this city would react to seeing a Mechanic and a Mage sitting at the same table in conversation.
A Mechanic and a Mage working together. If the commons saw that…
Low clouds had been closing in as the day ended, and before he reached the restaurant a thin rain had begun to fall, pattering off the gray stone streets and gray stone walls of Dorcastle, pooling in the indentations left by ancient weaponry in the many sieges which Dorcastle had endured.
Mari was not wearing her Mechanics jacket. She must have followed the same plan as he, trying to avoid attention. Alain came to the table where she sat, back in a corner by itself away from any windows, and bowed slightly. “My friend.”
Mari glanced up, her expression sharp and worried, one hand jerking toward her own bag in what Alain recognized as an abortive grab toward her concealed weapon. Then she grinned with relief. “I really am on edge. You’d think I’d recognize an unemotional voice calling me a friend. But I’ve been fending off the occasional romantic male citizen of Dorcastle. I’d never realized how much my jacket keeps commons from even thinking about approaching me.”
“You are not used to being approached by men?” Alain asked as he sat down opposite her.
Her expression turned rueful. “No. I’m not exactly a raving beauty, and I’ve always been more comfortable with machines than I have with males. And I’m a…you know. That sort of narrows the field of men who’d even think about coming on to me.”
“What is a raving beauty?”
“You know, some woman who’s so attractive that men can’t take their eyes off of her. I know Mage women don’t go in for, uh, cosmetics, so maybe you haven’t seen much of that.” Mari blushed slightly with embarrassment, as if concerned she had offended Alain. “I’m not saying Mage women aren’t worth looking at, though I never really have.”
Alain nodded, remembering Asha. “I know such a woman. A raving beauty.”
“Give me a break.”
“I did not mean you.”
Mari’s mouth hung open for a moment, then she blushed a deeper shade. “All right. Let’s pretend I never said that.”
“Why?” Alain asked.
“Because. The point is, the, uh, jacket tends to drive off men like the ones who have come on to me so far tonight.”
“But it must have been more than the jacket,” Alain said. “You are intimidating whether you wear it or not.”
She laughed. “All right, this time I have every right to say give me a break.”
“It is so.”
Mari laughed again. “I’m not intimidating compared to you.”
He shook his head. “My elders do not agree. Those here also see me as too young to be capable.”
“There’s something we still have in common.” Mari twisted her mouth in a half smile, an expression that Alain found fascinating. She had never mentioned her appearance before, but now that she had, he realized how much he wanted to watch her.
“I’m certain the Guild Hall Supervisor in Ringhmon sent a message about me here on the train,” Mari continued, oblivious to Alain’s thoughts, “or by…the arts of my Guild. It didn’t take long after I arrived for many of the other members of my Guild here to start treating me like I had some serious, communicable disease. It really does feel like the Senior Mechanics think other Mechanics will catch something from me. But enough of that. Let’s get some food and then we can talk.”
He stole glances at Mari as she ate, amazed at th
Alain looked down at his own meal. “What is good when speaking of food?”
That earned a look of surprise followed by sadness. “They kept that from you, too? It’s taste, texture, everything. You don’t notice that?”
“We are taught to eat quickly and take no notice of taste,” Alain explained. “It could be a distraction.”
Mari rubbed her forehead, her head lowered so he couldn’t see her expression, then looked back up at him. “It doesn’t matter. If that’s important to you, I mean.”
He examined his own food, trying to pay attention to how it looked. “It cannot be a greater distraction than you are.”
“What?”
“I meant that if you have not already harmed me, then tasting my food should have no impact.”
She eyed him, her expressions shifting too fast to follow. “I am really going to have to think about that before I can figure out whether it was a compliment or a cut down.”
Alain began trying to savor his own food, cautiously paying attention to taste and texture, and found some sense of forbidden pleasure returning to the act of eating. Or maybe he was just seeking to distract himself from thinking about Mari, and about his vision and the words and advice of the elder.
Some time later Mari sat back with a contented sigh, drinking her wine slowly, her gaze on the raindrops pattering on the window and the street beyond. “This city really is a fortress. No wonder it’s got “castle” in its name.”
“You did not know that?”
“No. I’m really not up on history. Why is this place so fortified?”
“Dorcastle is the first good harbor on the south coast of the sea west of the Imperial lands,” Alain explained. “From Ringhmon’s marshes to here are cliffs, and for some ways past Dorcastle are more cliffs and rugged coast. For anyone seeking to strike inland, this is the place from which such a strike must be made. The river valley beyond Dorcastle gives good access to the heart of the Bakre Confederation, and has little in the way of natural defenses. As a result, Dorcastle’s defenses have always been critically important to the Bakre Confederation. They have been tested many times by Imperial legions.”
“Really?” Mari looked at him curiously. “You know a lot of history? I thought Ma__ your kind of person didn’t care about the world.”
“As a rule, they do not. I know some of this from the military knowledge I was given in anticipation of fulfilling contracts with military forces of the commons. But the Mage Guild does have records of what has happened in the world illusion. Most of my Guild members do not bother to study much of the history of that illusion.” Alain shrugged. “But I am a little different.”
“I’ve noticed.” She smiled at him again. Something else in her face caused Alain to look down in confusion at how it made feelings want to boil up inside him, but when he looked at her again Mari was also looking away, seeming worried.
“Is something amiss?” he asked.
“No. Nothing is wrong,” she said firmly. “I can control this. Myself, that is.”
“Control?”
“I’m not going to make the most important decision of my life until I know more about…this problem I have to deal with. Never mind. You were talking about history.”
Mari was eager to change the subject, so Alain did not object. “I have always been interested in history, and even my training could not quench my interest. Since my Guild says the study of the illusion aids in altering it, I was able to pursue this with the agreement of my elders.”
“That’s nice.” She was still looking away from him, focusing on the outside. “So, that’s the story with Dorcastle? People keep attacking it?”
“The Empire keeps attacking it. For centuries, Dorcastle has held against the best that the rulers of the Empire could throw at it.” He pointed out into the street. “There is a monument out there, at the end of the street. It marks the high point of the last Imperial advance. The legions got this far and were broken, hurled back to their ships.”
Mari stared out the nearest window at the rain-wet street. “It’s odd to think this street must’ve once run with blood as it now runs with water.” She shuddered.
He blinked, seeing the shapes of phantom soldiers running past through the street. Behind the soldiers came a few ghostly cavalry who must be a rear guard, one carrying a broken lance, their horses stumbling with weariness. Before any vision of the enemy pursuing them could be seen the images disappeared, leaving only rain pelting down through the night. Had he simply imagined it? Had it been, somehow, a vision of past events which had occurred on that street? Or had it been a touch of foresight again, a vision of a future battle?
A future battle. Armies clashing. “There is something we must discuss,” Alain said.
“I know,” Mari said. “We should get down to business. Are you free to tell me whether your Guild is really innocent in this dragon stuff?”
“It is not about the dragons. It is something that…must not be shared. This must be between only you and I.”
She eyed him, a different kind of alarm showing. “Alain, I don’t need…we don’t need…any private talks about anything about us.”
“But there is something that you must know. It is very important, about the future.”
“Alain,” Mari said, holding out both palms in a warding gesture, “I know what you want to talk about, and I don’t think we should.”
She was fearful. Alain could see that. Not afraid of him, but worried about something else. “You know?” Alain asked.
“Yeah, Alain. I know. I’m trying to deal with what I know. Let’s not talk about it. All right? I know everything that I need to know, and what I don’t know, I’m learning. If…if there is anything that we need to talk about regarding…you and me and the future, I’ll bring it up. Can you agree to that?”
Alain nodded. He had no idea how Mari had learned about her role in the future, but perhaps she had experienced some visions as well. “Yes.”
“Good.” Mari exhaled with relief. “Now, the dragons. What have you learned?”
“There is no doubt in my mind that my Guild is baffled by these events,” Alain said. “Baffled and frustrated, since they should have been able to find and defeat the creatures by now. Finding a way to stop the attacks would be a service to my Guild.”
Mari’s eyes regarded him over the rim of her glass. “Your Guild is really trying to stop whatever’s going on?”
“Yes, though they believe my own skills would not contribute to that effort.”
“Jerks,” Mari muttered, draining the last of her wine.
“One elder was actually pleasant about it,” Alain added. “Pleasant for an elder, that is. She told me many things, including explaining about the thing you wish us not to speak of.”
“Oh, the elder explained that, did she?” Mari laughed, the sound sending a nice sensation through Alain even though he could not understand why she would react that way to his words. “I guess that saved me the trouble of having to do it. All right, then.” Leaning back again, Mari stared over Alain’s head. “I can’t believe I’m doing something which goes against all I was told, but I’m approaching this dragon thing as if it were a scientific problem.” She lowered her eyes to his. “You shamed me into that, you know. I was just going to discount anything about dragons without even thinking about it, but thanks to you I realized that I need to follow the same rules in evaluating information about dragons that I use in evaluating things I already believe in. So, you told me before that these dragons weren’t acting in a way dragons should act. Is that still what you think?”
Alain nodded. “Yes. All of the members of my Guild who I have talked to agreed. This is one of the causes of the frustration.”
“And from what you’ve told me, if dragons were terrorizing Dorcastle then your Guild should have been able to deal
“That too is so. It is a contradiction, an inconsistency.”
She spread her hands on the table surface, gazing at it as if an answer was written there. “Then the source of these events doesn’t act like dragons and hasn’t been stopped by people who can stop dragons. That has to mean one thing. Whoever or whatever’s causing this, it isn’t dragons.”
Alain stared at her. “How do you know that?”
“If it doesn’t act like a dragon and can’t be found by people who can find dragons, why should anyone think it is a dragon?”
“Because…” He scratched his head. “That had not even occurred to me.– According to my training, anything we see is false, so any inconsistency means nothing. It is just an inconsistency born of my own perceptions. The patterns that govern the illusion remain unchanged.”
“It hasn’t occurred to any members of my Guild here, either.” Mari made an angry gesture. “Plenty of people in my Guild prefer to disregard inconvenient inconsistencies, too, even though they don’t have the excuse of being trained to ignore facts. Not officially, anyway. They’re fixated on the idea that the Mages are doing this, and so they’re trying to find out how the Mages are doing it and any evidence that ties the Mages to it.”
“But,” Alain said slowly, “as with the Mages searching for dragons, if the Mechanics are looking for things that do not exist, they will not find them no matter how hard they try.”
“Right.” She smiled broadly at him. “Stars above, you’re listening to me.”
“Of course I am listening to you. Your words, your ideas, are always of interest to me.”
“They are?” Mari’s expression changed, her eyes widening, then she looked down hastily, covering her face with one hand. “There have to be some flaws,” he heard her barely whisper.
“Something is wrong again?” Alain asked.
She kept her gaze averted. “Only with my head. I’ve been called crazy by people before this, but now I’m beginning to wonder if all of those people were right. I’m…feeling…thinking…something that no rational Mechanic should feel or think. And the more I think about it, the more I know how impossible it is, but I keep thinking about it. And even though I told you that I don’t want to talk about it, here I am talking about it. Maybe I am crazy.”