Free The Dragons of Dorcastle by Jack Campbell Page A

strongly discouraged even though officially the Mechanics were a separate and superior group who had come from those stars. No matter their origin—and most of the Mechanics Mari knew considered the story to be just a grandiose myth—Mechanics were taught to keep their eyes on the ground and their minds firmly focused on the only world there was: - Dematr.
    Mari was staggering with weariness by the time she noticed the sky to the east beginning to pale.
    Mage Alain spoke with a voice deadened even more by fatigue. “We should rest during the day,” he said. “We will not be able to keep moving like this in the sun’s heat.”
    “I can’t keep moving even if I wanted to,” Mari said. “Do you see anything that might offer us any shade or protection?”
    The Mage shook his head. They went on a bit longer, until the sun poked its head above the horizon. As their shadows stretched far off to the side, Mari spotted a slight depression a little ways off the road that offered the only trace of cover and waved Mage Alain toward it. “I will take the first watch,” the Mage offered after they had drunk a little more of the water.
    Mari nodded glumly. She shrugged off her pack, letting it fall with a sense of immense relief, then rolled onto her side to lie exhausted.
    “You should remove your jacket,” the Mage said. “Use it to shade your head.”
    She didn’t want to remove her one sign of authority, her one piece of armor, though in both respects the jacket offered little right now. “I’m a Mechanic.”
    “I know that. Is there anyone around that you need to impress?”
    Blasted Mage. Was she teaching him sarcasm? Rather than answer, she rolled to face the other way. The jacket felt like an already-warm burden, making it difficult to breathe. Mari counted to ten slowly, then without saying a word to the Mage awkwardly pulled off her jacket and tented it over her head, sighing involuntarily with relief.
    Mage Alain wisely refrained from making any comment, and she fell asleep quickly, overcome with fatigue.
    Mari awoke feeling dizzy and disoriented from the heat. Pushing the jacket off her head, she managed to sit up, blinking against the glare of the sun. The Mage had collapsed on the other side of the depression, his face hidden by the cowl of his robes. Mari plucked at her shirt, which was once again plastered to her skin by sweat.
I’ll have to put my jacket back on when Mage Alain wakes up. I don’t want him seeing as much of me as he could with my shirt this wet. A Mage leering at me…that’s just too disgusting to think about.
    That’s not fair. This Mage has been perfectly decent with me.
    But sorry, Mage Alain. Even you don’t get to check me out with my shirt stuck to me like this.
    She took a small drink, then lay down again, her back to the Mage and her jacket spread over her head and upper body.
    * * * *
    Mage Alain roused her again at sunset. She stared up at him, thinking that she ought to be panicking at having a Mage looming over her like that while she was lying down, but she couldn’t hold to any thought except for wondering why his face kept swimming in and out of focus.
    “Drink,” Mage Alain ordered. She drank one mouthful. “More. The whole bottle.”
    The small amount of water she had drunk had revived her enough to think again. “We need that water.”
    “We will not survive the night unless we drink more.”
    She wanted to argue that but felt the truth of the statement in her body’s weakness. Reluctantly, Mari drank the bottle down. The Mage discarded it, then examined their remaining supply and shook his head. “Can you walk now?”
    “Give me a little while.” Mari wondered if he would wait, or head off to take his own chances alone.
    But Mage Alain sat down a lance-length from her. “You waited for me to rest when we escaped the ambush,” he said, as if knowing her thoughts.
    “I’d never been told that Mages believe in paying back debts.”
    “Mages do not