The Assassins of Altis (27 page)

Alain let his own gaze roam over the dock area. “My foresight tells me nothing.”

Mari sat back, chewing her lower lip as she put away her far-seer. “There is an Imperial warship in port, but there is no sign of trouble from that quarter, either. Do you think we finally got ahead of the reports and rumors and arrest orders?”

“No.” Alain gestured toward the north and east, memories of the events there crowding into his mind. “The stories spread by General Flyn’s soldiers in the Northern Ramparts will have found fertile ground here, there is no doubt. But we may have outrun the rumors of Mara for a while.”

“That’s one blessing, then.”

“It could be useful some day,” Alain suggested, “if we are confronted by superstitious Imperials.”

Mari turned her glare on him. “You’re crazy if you think for even one moment that I will ever play at being Mara.” She stood up, adjusting her pack. “I’m not going to miss hauling these packs around, let me tell you. Shall we get in line to get ashore?” She looked at Alain again, her expression becoming concerned. “What’s the matter?”

He was looking north, and only when she asked did Alain realize that he must have shown some feeling. “I was thinking of home. The home I had and lost.”

“I’m sorry,” Mari said, her voice full of apology. “I should have expected that would bother you and not have been so self-centered. Just remember that you’ve got another home now.” She took his hand and placed it over her heart. “Right here, and you’re always there. Now let’s go change the world.”

He smiled at her, feeling better. “Yes, Lady Mari.”

The line to board the boats was still fairly long, but Alain did not mind spending a little more time on the ship. It held memories that would never fade. He saw some of the other passengers they had spoken with, the commons who were soldiers in the Western Alliance, and somewhat awkwardly returned their waves of farewell. He saw that the woman soldier Patila once again kept her eyes on Mari, and that the soldiers’ skeptical friend Jorge avoided looking their way.

Mari held his arm as the line moved forward, until they reached the ladder to the boat and had to go down it single-file. She led him to seats near the stern of the boat, then as the boat cast off and the crew members began rowing it to the quay, Mari met his eyes, tapped the place under her arm where her weapon was kept, and sat alertly. The honeymoon was officially over.

Alain kept his eyes on the area ahead for any sign of trouble, but saw nothing suspicious as the boat came alongside the quay and tied up. Once ashore they joined another line for customs, eventually facing an official who looked relaxed and a little rumpled, a big contrast to the polished menace of the Imperial officers with whom Alain and Mari had been forced to deal for some time.

The customs officer held out a hand for their papers, and Mari handed over the false ones. “Imperials out of Emdin? What brings you to Altis?”

“Distant relatives,” Mari explained. “They’ve been asking us to visit, and this is a quiet season on the farm.”

“Well, you’ll have to get back soon for the spring planting, won’t you?” The official took another glance at the identification papers, shrugged, then began to hand back the papers.

He halted in mid-reach as another official hastened up and whispered to him, glancing toward Mari and Alain.

Mari’s attention was centered on the officials. Alain let his gaze roam, seeing the man Jorge standing some distance away and watching nervously, then turning to walk off with a fast gait.

The seated customs official gave Mari and Alain an appraising look as his comrade gestured to some nearby local police. “I am afraid we will have to question you further and search your belongings,” the customs official said.

Mari had tensed, flicking a glance at Alain. He nodded to indicate that he was ready to follow her lead. “Is something wrong?” Mari asked, trying to sound plaintive and worried like the young rustic her identity papers claimed her to be.

“This way,” the second official ordered, the two local police at his back.

Alain took another look around. They were very exposed here on the quay. Anything they did would be seen by many people, including the Mechanics working down at the end of the quay. But allowing the local officials to search their packs would not only reveal Mari’s Mechanics jacket and equipment, but also Alain’s robes, and the two packs of texts which they had brought from Marandur.

Escaping from the local officials would be difficult, but not impossible. However, it would create a huge commotion and brand him and Mari as criminals before they had any chance to look for the tower she sought.

Mari hesitated, giving Alain another glance that this time revealed she had no ideas and needed one from him.

He began to shake his head slightly in response.

The seated customs official began to stand up, frowning, as the two local police stepped closer.

The woman soldier Patila suddenly walked up next to the customs desk, smiling at Mari and Alain. “Is anything wrong, sir?” she asked the customs official, offering her identity papers.

The official turned his frown on Patila, looking down at her papers. His expression cleared. “We’re just acting on a tip, Captain,” he said respectfully.

“About these two?” she asked. “Why would anyone have tipped— Oh, wait.” She leaned close, whispering to the official.

He frowned again, looked at Mari in an appraising way, then inclined his head toward Patila. “I see. Thank you, Captain. If you vouch for them, there is no need to inconvenience anyone.”

The official waved away the police and handed Mari back her and Alain’s identity papers. “Sorry about that. We’re not the Empire here, or Mechanics, giving people trouble just because we can. Enjoy your stay in Altis.”

Patila walked with them as they left the quay. “I saw Jorge talking to one of the customs officials,” she told Mari. “He’s not a bad person, but he’s been on edge a lot lately. Worried about things at home. And he thinks you might make things worse. I thought he might cause some trouble for you.”

“Thank you,” Mari said. “You really saved us back there.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Patila said, looking at Mari. “For the daughter.” As Mari fumbled for a reply, the soldier switched her gaze to Alain. “It took me a while to be sure you were a Mage. When you’re not careful, though, your face goes all expressionless instead of relaxed. You need to work on that still.”

“I will,” Alain said. “What did you tell the official?”

Patila grinned lopsidedly. “I told him that this one guy on the cruise had been hitting on her,” she said with a nod toward Mari. “I said I had heard him threaten to cause trouble for her if she didn’t show him a good time even though she was just this naïve kid from a farm who only wanted to be left alone. And then I’d just seen that guy talking to customs officials and I thought maybe he had made good on his threats. Since I’m an officer in the Western military, and Jorge wouldn’t even give his name, they took my word for it.”

“Captain Patila,” Mari began.

“Look, you don’t owe me anything,” Patila said. “But I wanted to tell you something I couldn’t when others were around. There are a lot of commons like Jorge. They’re scared. Worried about their homes and families and all. They’re unhappy with how things are but frightened of how much worse they could get.”

“They’re not the only ones worried about that,” Mari said.

“Yeah. I could tell. So, you need to know, if the daughter starts raising an army, a lot of commons will want to join, but many of those won’t be able to, because they’ll be trying to keep the lid on things at home, trying to keep their cities from boiling over and protecting their own places and people from whatever the Great Guilds try to do to stop the daughter.” Patila gave Mari a somber look. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Mari said. “I wouldn’t ask anyone to abandon their responsibilities.”

“Are you a Mechanic?”

Mari grimaced. “Yes. And no. I’m not a member of the Guild anymore.”

“Her Guild wants to arrest and kill her,” Alain said.

“Yours, too?” Patila asked. “I thought so. The daughter is poison to them. Are you going to be in Altis long?”

“I don’t think so,” Mari said. “There’s something I need to do and then we’re leaving.”

“That’s good. Altis can be hard to get out of, so it’s not a good place to be trapped if anybody happened to be hunting you. I don’t need to know your business. You shouldn’t have any more trouble in Altis. Not from common folk, anyway. I’m only here for a couple of days myself, then I’m heading back to my unit. I need to pass on word to some people, higher-ups, to let them know it’s real, that
she’s
for real, and that we had better brace ourselves for the blast when the world learns about it.” She studied Mari again. “You know, if anybody had come strutting around, claiming to be the daughter and telling everybody what to do, I wouldn’t have been happy. Somehow I always thought that the daughter would be about us, not about her, and that’s how I’d know she was real. That’s why I got involved back there, and I think that’s why Jorge tried to trip you up. The people who meet you know that you’re the real deal, and not all of them are going to be happy about that. Good luck, daughter.”

Patila veered off, walking down the street without looking back.

“She did not lie,” Alain told Mari.

“I already knew that,” Mari said. “You and I are going to keep our heads down, talk to as few people as we can, say as little as we can, find that tower, and then get out of Altis.”

“Where will we go?” Alain asked.

“I am really hoping that something we find at the tower will help us decide that,” Mari said. “But at this moment, we need to get out of the low port and up to the city.”

She stopped to ask directions of some commons while Alain kept an eye on the crowds around them. The low port felt as low-key and casual as the customs official they had dealt with, and Alain felt himself relaxing a little as well. He could see numerous taverns lining the waterfront and guessed that come evening there would be plenty of high-pressure activity here as sailors relieved themselves of their money and their worries. But for now the low port just showed the bustle of trade and the movement of cargos and passengers. There was no sign of the betrayer Jorge, and Alain’s foresight offered no warning.

But then it had also offered no warning before their near-conflict with the local officials.

Alain followed as Mari led them through the streets of the low port, then up the long slope to Altis proper. “Some older and wiser Mechanics I knew at the academy told me that jewelers in ports are not to be trusted,” she explained to Alain. A few moments later, as if invoked by Mari’s mention, a trio of Mechanics came into view, swaggering down the street alongside each other so that everyone else was forced to move aside. Mari bent her head as if laboring under her pack while the Mechanics passed, unobtrusively putting Alain between herself and them. Alain saw one of the Mechanics give him a disinterested glance, then the group of Mechanics had passed.

Mari straightened, her face sad. “Why do I have to hide from my former comrades? That still hurts. We’ll take pains to avoid the area around the Mechanics Guild Hall, though.”

Alain nodded. “As well as the Mage Guild Hall. There are a good number of Mages here, though I can sense no sign of worry among them.”

“Does worry show up somehow in what you can sense?”

“Not directly,” Alain explained. “I sense what is happening. If Mages are trying to hide themselves, if many are practicing spells, or if there is a strange lack of any spell activity, these would all be signs that something is amiss.”

“Can you tell if there are any Mages you know here at Altis?”

He shook his head. “I cannot feel the presence of anyone I know. That is not too surprising. Altis is a backwater. The harbor is magnificent, but the island itself offers little beyond spectacular scenery.”

“And an ancient tower full of answers, we hope.” They had reached the city after toiling up the rise. As the street leveled out, Mari’s face brightened when she caught sight of a casually elegant storefront. “Aha! Shah Jewelers of Altis. Not too fancy and not too cheap. Just what we need.”

“Should we take time for this?” Alain asked. “After the incident on the quay—”

“Alain,” Mari whispered, her voice intense, “I am running for my life and liable to be killed at any time. I’m expected to save all of Dematr from your chaos storm and overthrow the Great Guilds. I don’t think it’s too much to ask if I take a very little time to get the rings that will show how proud we are to be each other’s partner in life.”

He considered possible responses before replying. “That is wise.”

Mari stared at him, then muffled a laugh. She pulled out some coins and held them up before Alain. “I hadn’t mentioned this before, but do you remember that bag of food my mother gave us?”

“I recall there were some cookies within it which I never saw,” he said.

“Oh, yeah, the cookies. There weren’t very many of them.” She made a pleading gesture begging forgiveness. “It had been so long since I’d had my mother’s cookies.”

“Next time I would like some.”

“You will. I promise. Anyway, Mother stuck a fair amount of money in with the food she gave us. I didn’t realize it until we were out at sea, of course, or I’d have given it back. She knew that, which is why she hid it in the bottom. I’ll pay her back someday, but since we’re stuck with it, I can’t think of a better use for some of it than paying for our rings, can you?”

“I am sure that would bring your parents joy,” Alain agreed. He wondered if Eirene had gotten around to telling Mari’s father that Mari intended to marry a Mage. That news might not have brought all that much joy.

A short time later, Alain made a fist of his left hand and contemplated the bright gold band on the third finger. He felt somehow very different. It seemed such a small thing to be able to make such a big change in his own world.

Mari came beside him and spread her own hand next to his so their rings lay side-by-side. “Like us,” she whispered. “Next to each other. Isn’t this great? This makes it official.”

“I thought the ceremony at Caer Lyn made the marriage official,” Alain said.

“Well, yes, it did, but the rings make it officially official,” Mari explained, hoisting her pack onto her back once more.

“Officially official?” Alain asked.

“Yes. Now let’s find that tower.”

Unfortunately, finding the way to the tower proved frustrating. Mari insisted on going first to a large and neatly laid out map store, where young clerks tossed the question of the tower among themselves, then finally asked a middle-aged supervisor who shook his head. “Our maps show everything that’s there. If it’s not on the map, it’s not there,” he pronounced confidently, pointing to the same motto engraved over the doorway.

Asking passing citizens of Altis was also fruitless. “A big tower? Somewhere in the interior? Never heard of it. There aren’t even any roads into the interior. Nothing’s there.”

Some members of the city guard they asked also had no idea what they meant. “If a tower like that could be found on the island, we’d know about it.”

The clerks at the city records hall expressed total confidence that no such tower could really be on the island. “It’s not on the property tax rolls, so it can’t exist.”

Alain finally suggested that they try another mapmaker. “Not one who makes maps for today only. If this tower is a thing of history, then those who map history might know of it.”

Footsore by this time, and with the day well along, Mari agreed. She did seem skeptical of the place Alain selected, though, a small mapmaker’s establishment which appeared to be as ancient as the city, with maps and documents piled up inside the dusty windows. To Alain, this was just the place for finding memory, but Mari shook her head. “How about we find some place where things are filed and neat and clean?”

“We have tried one such place. I believe that the map which we seek will not be found in a drawer,” Alain replied.

Mari made a defeated gesture and waved him inside.

“The old tower?” The mapmaker’s shop which Alain had chosen proved to be a joint venture between an elderly man and his wife, both of whom had obviously been at their trade for a long time. The old man nodded in instant recognition. “I haven’t been asked about that since…”

“The year of the current Emperor’s inauguration,” his wife finished.

“Yes! But that wasn’t someone asking how to get there…”

“It was someone who had seen it in the distance and wondered what it was,” his wife completed the sentence.

“We couldn’t tell him that…” the man confessed.

“But we could tell where he had seen it,” his wife added.

Mari hid a smile behind her hand, glancing at Alain. “Can you tell us how to get to it?”

The old couple dug through large, shallow drawers and piles of maps, searching for the drawing they needed, before eventually surfacing with a map of a part of the island which was well inland. “This is the best map…” the man assured Mari.

“For anyone seeking the tower,” his wife agreed.

“The tower is…”

“There,” his wife noted, using her finger to point out a spot.

The man inked a quill and made a small notation. “Yes, there.”

Alain studied the map, trying to understand what it showed. “What do all these lines around the tower mean?”

“Mountains, lad! Very rough terrain there. You see?” The man traced peaks with his fingers.

“The tower sits in a sort of bowl-shaped valley,” his wife said.

“Not well mapped, that area,” the husband added.