Mari’s expression shifted rapidly through what Alain thought was dismay, embarrassment and panic, though it could have been all of those things at once and more. He suddenly realized the actual reason for Mari’s reluctance to be among the common soldiers. She had sensed their hero worship, sensed that they suspected who she was, and been greatly unsettled by it. “General,” Mari insisted, “that is absurd. I don’t know much about that prophecy, but I doubt that it says anything about Mages and Mechanics helping the daughter. Right, Alain?”
She had asked him, and Mari insisted on what she called truth, so Alain gave the answer he had learned in Ringhmon. “Though this is not known to commons, the Mage prophecy of old does say that the daughter will unite Mechanics, Mages, and commons to overthrow the Great Guilds.”
“It does?” General Flyn said, astonished.
“It does?” Mari said in very different tones, then glared at Alain. “You are supposed to be helping me,” she whispered to him angrily.
Mari turned back to face the general, composing her expression and her voice. “Regardless of what the prophecy said, I can’t imagine why anyone would think I have any role in it. I’m a Mechanic. I fix things. I’m not exactly capable of overthrowing anything, nor am I as dangerous as some people seem to think I am.”
The general gestured. “There’s a dragon which might argue that last point, if it wasn’t dead. And then there was Ringhmon, and Dorcastle—”
“Those had nothing to do with—” Mari looked to Alain, her expression reproachful. “What have you told him?”
“Nothing,” Alain said. “Almost nothing, that is.”
“Listen,” Mari said. “I’m a pretty good Mechanic. That’s all.” Mari waved both hands before her in a warding gesture. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get my pack together.” She walked off very quickly, leaving Alain and General Flyn.
Flyn gave Alain a shrewd look. “Your thoughts are hidden, Sir Mage. I would give much to know what you believe of the Lady Mari.”
“I do not believe that she would approve of my telling you that,” Alain said, feeling very uncertain. Since arriving, Mari had acted as if ready to reveal herself to these commons, but now she was denying who she was.
“But you have not only told me something not known about the prophecy, Sir Mage, you have also admitted that it exists. I am not aware that any Mage has ever done that.” Flyn looked in the direction that Mari had gone. “I do not ask you to violate any confidences, Sir Mage, but if she is indeed that one, she will need all the friends she can get.”
Alain intended saying nothing more, but his foresight came upon him again as Flyn finished speaking. A vision appeared before him: Mari and General Flyn on horseback, their mounts facing each other, Flyn saluting her with his sword. Alain sat on a horse as well, beside Mari. Vague shapes of other cavalry and soldiers on foot could be dimly seen in the background, at least one of the mounted figures also wearing the dark jacket of a Mechanic. A banner held by one of the cavalry bore the same design as Alain had seen on the armbands he and Mari had been wearing in his vision of the future battle at Dorcastle.
He blinked as the vision vanished, then looked at Flyn. Alain had seen himself in the vision, which meant it was something that might happen, a possible event if decisions and events led there, if he and Mari survived long enough. “You may play some role in the future, General. Your talents and your determination kept me alive. I would welcome your service to Master Mechanic Mari, protecting her as you protected me.”
Flyn stared at Alain. “Have you…seen something regarding that, Sir Mage?”
“I have,” Alain said, knowing that Flyn was asking if his foresight had provided any clues. “You may be, on some day to come, her general.”
“I would serve no Mechanic, unless she was in truth…” the general began, his voice trailing off and a look of wonder dawning on his face. “She must be. I had not dared hope. What a miracle it is that I have lived to see this day, that I have lived to meet her.”
“General,” Alain said, “you heard Lady Mari. She does not want it known as of yet. You know the perils that she will face when the Great Guilds hear of her. Already Lady Mari faces many threats, but when she becomes known, the storm that threatens this world will bend every effort to destroy her.”
“The storm?” Flyn nodded, his eyes on Alain. “You can feel it, too, then? Everywhere there is a sense that our world trembles and threatens to shatter from strains that have been pent up for too long. That also is so?”
“It is,” Alain said. “Many Mages have seen warning of the storm, have seen it cloaking armies and mobs of commons, have seen it approaching swiftly, but the Mage Guild itself refuses to accept those warnings.”
“How long, Sir Mage?” Flyn asked urgently. “How long until the daughter reveals herself? How long until the storm strikes?”
“I do not know,” Alain said. “There is a sense of urgency in the visions that warns time is limited.”
“And she goes into the empire?” Flyn asked, his voice despairing.
“To seek answers that she needs. And she will not do so alone. From this time on, I will be with her.”
“That is a great comfort, Sir Mage.” Flyn turned his head to look at where his soldiers were camped. “If she announced herself today, I have no doubt that my troops would immediately march with her. And I have no doubt that we would quickly be utterly destroyed. You are surely right that she needs secrecy for now. The daughter of Jules. Of blood or of spirit, I wonder? Surely both. But it explains her to me, Sir Mage. It explains that dead dragon over there. And since you two are clearly companions, perhaps it explains you as well. Who else could awaken the man beneath a Mage? Why did you tell me all of this, Sir Mage?” the general asked. “There is no more valuable secret in this world.”
It took Alain a moment to answer, as he tried to understand the reasons himself. “I…trust you.” Was that the right word? He tried to remember exactly what “trust” meant as the general’s eyes flashed amazement. Alain’s thoughts, his feelings, were very hard to express after so many years of being forced to restrain emotion.
“Thank you, Sir Mage,” Flyn said. “I am beyond astonishment, but not beyond gratitude for your trust. I assure you that it is not misplaced.”
Alain inclined his head respectfully toward the general, just as he would have toward an elder of the Mage Guild. An extremely inappropriate gesture from a Mage to a common, yet it felt right to Alain. “How is it that the commons do not know the lineage of Jules, if they believe so in the prophecy of the daughter?”
Flyn pointed toward Alain. “Because of the Great Guilds, Sir Mage. According to legend, the prophecy was made while Jules still lived. Somehow, she knew of it. It was kept secret as long as possible, but Jules and those close to her knew that it would leak eventually, and that when it happened the Great Guilds would ensure the destruction of anyone related to her. Before Jules died, her children were hidden among the commons in different places. It must have been hard on her, but it was the only way to keep them alive. None know the lineage of Jules, Sir Mage, for that was the only way to ensure the daughter of her blood could someday be born and grow to fulfill the prophecy.”
Who had made the prophecy? Alain wondered. It must have been a Mage, for even though Mage elders disdained the legend, he had learned that most also sought to stamp it out with a fervor that bespoke belief, and the unconventional elder he had spoken with in Dorcastle had confirmed the prophecy had been made. But why would the Mage who saw the prophecy not immediately have told the elders of that long-ago day? Could that Mage have been like Alain, discovering a road that did not require obedience to elders?