Mari grimaced, but did not dispute his words. “You can you hide us without that other Mage spotting you doing it?”
He concentrated on the Mage he still sensed on the edge of his awareness, far distant from here. “For a while, yes. By the time the Mage helping with the quarantine could tell these Imperials that another Mage was active here, the legionaries should have long since left.” Alain studied their surroundings. “They will look up in the trees and around the trunks.”
Mari pointed to a jagged stump which only came up her waist. “So we go there, where we couldn’t possibly hide?”
“Not without a Mage.”
It still took some work to get everything back inside their packs, muddle any trace that they had been sitting next to the trees, and then find a spot right next to the stump where they could stand with the smallest chance of having a legionary blunder into them. Mari ended up backed against the stump, her arms once again around Alain from behind, he pressing back and looking in the direction from which the cohort of legionaries was approaching. “You really are enjoying this, aren’t you?” Mari whispered. “I think you could make me invisible even if I wasn’t glued to you like this.”
“No, I could not,” Alain said. “But it is pleasant.”
She did not reply, because they heard commands being called. The woodcutters on the other side of the trees did not hear the approaching legionaries and kept up their racket, so Alain had to watch carefully, unable to count on knowing how close the legionaries were before they got close enough to see him and Mari. “I will start the spell. Stay very still and very quiet.”
“No problem,” she muttered back.
Common folk believed that Mages changed real objects. Mechanics considered Mages to be fakes who claimed to be able to do impossible things. Neither was correct. Alain’s training had focused on enabling him to realize that nothing was real, that the world he saw around him was just an illusion. And if all was illusion, then with enough strength and power and concentration other illusions could be temporarily placed over the existing illusions. The illusion of a wall could have the illusion of an opening placed on it.
The illusion of light, traveling in straight lines, could be altered so that the light curved around a Mage, concealing him or her.
Alain bent light so that no one could see either him or Mari, only the broken truck behind them. They stood silently as the legionaries began coming into view. Alain, concentrating on maintaining the spell as the line of Imperial soldiers slogged wearily into the woods, wondered if the distant Mage had picked up the small spell yet.
A centurion walked with the legionaries, barking out orders. “Check every tree. Check the branches, check behind it, then check the branches again.”
Most of the legionaries carried swords, and several had crossbows. None carried any of the Mechanic weapons that Mari called rifles, but that was small comfort. The legionaries displayed little enthusiasm for their task, and from their weary expressions and tired movements Alain guessed the legionaries had been up and searching since last night. But under the eyes of their centurion they did as instructed, checking every tree carefully.
None of them came near the stump to search, but Alain had to breathe as silently as possible when the centurion came to stand near it, glaring around at his troops. “Pick it up, boys and girls! We’ve got a lot more territory to cover today until we find them, and when we do find them we can rest. We’ll also have the Emperor’s favor for offing those who tried to leave Marandur.”
One of the legionaries grumbled loudly enough for Alain, and the centurion, to hear. “Whoever it was flew away, and they didn’t do it on any Mage Roc.”
“You got something to say, Juren?” the centurion demanded.
“All I’m saying,” the Imperial soldier complained, “is that whatever got out of Marandur left footprints like a person’s, but then those footprints disappeared. It’s like they flew away. And there’s only one… person… what could have done that.”
Another legionary nodded. “There’s been funny stuff heard in the city lately, like something was stirring. It’s been her city for a long time. Maybe she decided to leave.”
The centurion walked over to the nearest offending legionary and shoved him backwards with a stiff-armed blow. “You think the officers would be happy to hear you saying that, Juren? What about you, Hsien? You want to go tell some of them what you just said to me?”
“No, Centurion,” the legionaries mumbled.
“Get it out of your heads. All of you. Anyone mentions her again, they get five lashes. If I hear her name, it’ll be ten lashes. Got that?” The legionaries called out hasty acknowledgments. “Now move on. Check the rest of these woods.”
Alain risked taking a deep breath as the soldiers moved onward, but neither he nor Mari moved until the legionaries had vanished from sight in the direction of the woodcutters. Though they were only partially concealed by the stump at their backs from any legionary of who might come back this way, Alain took the risk of dropping his spell. But it was too late. He had already sensed a response from that far-off other Mage.
The sound of axes halted. They could hear the voice of the centurion, barely audible as he interrogated the woodcutters.
“Was he talking about me?” Mari breathed into Alain’s ear. “The daughter? Why would they think I can fly?”
“I do not know.” Alain was also puzzled. “They were afraid of this ‘her’ the legionary spoke of. I have not seen that reaction among commons speaking of the daughter of Jules. But I do not know who this other woman could be that they fear.”
“That one soldier said they shouldn’t say her name,” Mari noted. “Why wouldn’t they say my name if they knew it? Has the Emperor banned any mention of the daughter of Jules?”
Alain made a small, uncertain gesture. “I do not think the Imperials regard the daughter legend as something to be suppressed. But they also said Marandur has been this woman’s city for a long time. How could that be you? How could that be the daughter?”
“And why would legionaries be afraid of me?” Mari wondered.
“Perhaps they have heard of what happens to dragons foolish enough to attack you,” Alain replied.
“Oh, gosh, you are so funny, Mage. Can you tell how amused I am?”
Alain tried not to wince as her grip on him tightened. “Since we are speaking of things to be concerned about, I should tell you that the presence of the other Mage vanished very quickly a few moments ago. He must have sensed the spell I used and is now working harder to conceal himself.”
“Let’s hope those legionaries get out of here fast.”
Alain remained prepared to hide them from sight for a little longer, then as the legionaries showed no sign of backtracking he focused on hiding his presence from the other Mage again.
Mari looked up at the sky, where the clouds were beginning to show signs of parting. “It’s well past noon, and it sounds like these legionaries are chasing off the woodcutters. Maybe we’ll be able to leave once the legionaries have moved off, too.”
“The sooner the better,” Alain agreed.
Worried about the other Mage, he and Mari moved to the far side of the woods as soon as it seemed safe. The edge of the woods gave way to a long shallow slope of rolling, snow-covered grassland running all the way to the horizon. A churned path marked where the woodcutter wagon and horses had come and gone, the wagon itself already well away from the woods but still visible though distant. The legionaries, still spread out in a long search line, were trudging in the wagon’s wake.