The Dragons of Dorcastle by Jack Campbell Read Free Book Online

replied, feeling oddly anguished by the Mage’s reactions.
    “Yes.” He inclined his head toward her. “You…are…welcome, Master Mechanic Mari.”
    Mari averted her eyes, not wanting him to see her feelings, and wondering who he might once have been before the Mages got their hands on him. But now he was a Mage, too, and there was nothing she could do about that. “Um…let’s go, just in case those bandits are still tracking us. We’ve rested as long as we should.”
    The rocks on the heights kept slipping under her feet, the sun beat down mercilessly, their path seemed to always lead either up a steep slope or down a steeper slope, and her pack felt as though it weighed more with every step.
    The dryness in her throat had become a constant source of distress. But she kept moving, trying to pick a path that kept a screen of rocks or ridges between them and where the bandits might still be climbing up. A small ravine opened before them, leading down and back toward the site of the attack on the caravan, so Mari eased carefully down the walls of the gap and followed it until it ended in a sheer wall. Muttering curses, she climbed, her pack seeming to be trying to pull her down with evil intent.
    It almost succeeded, as a handhold crumbled and Mari began sliding downward past the Mage, who simply watched her falling. “Help!” Mari got out as she slid past. The Mage just stared again for a long, heart-stopping moment, then at the last possible instant shot out an arm to lock his hand on her wrist.
    She could swear he looked remorseful for an instant, then the Mage mask was back in place. He waited until she had a good grip on the stone again, then let go of her wrist as quickly as if the touch burned.
    Mari didn’t know what to think of this boy. Part of her felt sorry for him, part was grateful for his aid, but part of her remained worried and suspicious.
Why can’t he show what he’s feeling? Does he really feel anything? Why didn’t he help me right away? How could he have known anything about my contract in Ringhmon?
“Thanks.”
    “You…are…welcome.” The Mage had a far off look in his eyes. “Help,” he whispered to himself, as if trying to remember what the word meant.
    The afternoon wore on as they labored over the heights back toward where the front of the caravan had been, the sun slowly sinking in a red haze born of the fine dust thrown up by the battle, dust which would take hours yet to settle. Mari finally made her way along a narrow rift that gave out on a rock screened ledge.
    From here they could look down into the pass and see the wreckage of the caravan spread out beneath them. Mari couldn’t help wondering if some of the bandits had used this spot as a firing position earlier in the day. If they had, they hadn’t left any brass lying around from bullets that had been fired, but even bandits would want the discount on reloads offered by the Mechanics Guild. The sun had sunk far enough that the entire pass was now in shade, providing a small measure of relief from the heat that had been plaguing them. Groups of figures in the robes of desert dwellers could be seen moving around the pass, gathering up swords and crossbows and ransacking wagons but apparently not taking much from them.
    “What are they doing?” Mari whispered.
    The Mage studied the scene for a while. “They are trying to create the illusion that the caravan was looted without actually looting it. See, they’re setting fire to that wagon after pulling out the goods within, but the goods are so close they will also burn.”
    Mari slid down behind a rock and tried not to think about water. Her shirt under her jacket was soaked with sweat, but she was determined not to remove that jacket. It was a symbol of who she was, of all she had done to earn her status, and it also felt like protection, even though the leather wouldn’t stop much. Protection against bandits, and protection against this strange boy even though he