The Dragons of Dorcastle

Author:Jack Campbell [Campbell, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-625671-19-6
Publisher: Jabberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
Published: 2015-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Guild Hall Supervisor Senior Mechanic Stimon didn’t look happy. Mari gazed back at him, her own face carefully showing nothing. She was surprised to realize she had learned a little more of that useful trick from watching Alain. She felt triumphant inside, though. Triumphant and in high spirits. She was free, and she had gotten some serious revenge last night, all with the help of Mage Alain.

Stimon’s nose kept wrinkling, so Mari guessed that she and her clothing must reek of smoke even though she couldn’t smell it any more herself. “The Hall of City Government in Ringhmon has been totally consumed by fire,” Stimon growled. “The fires still rage amid the shell of the structure. The city is in an uproar. And you come here covered with ashes and trailing the scent of burning.”

Mari nodded. “I was close to the fire. I had a contract at the city hall, as you recall.”

“You went to that contract yesterday! What were you still doing there in the early hours of this morning?”

“It was a very complex job,” Mari said earnestly. If you know more, tell me. If you suspected I might have been in danger, I want to hear it from you.

Stimon’s face reddened. “The City Manager told us you had completed the job and left the building.”

“Obviously, he was mistaken.” Mari locked her eyes on Stimon, daring him to take the word of a common against that of a fellow Mechanic. “Though I certainly appreciate your concern for my welfare, Senior Mechanic Stimon. You’ll be happy to know that the healer in the Guild Hall has seen to the injuries I acquired…while escaping the fire.”

“How fortunate that you were able to escape…the fire.”

Glowering at Stimon, Mari leaned forward. “Shall we dispense with the lies? As you should’ve already been told, I’ve reported that I was knocked out, kidnapped by the City Manager of this stinking pestilence of a city, and managed to escape only by great luck.” It had been hard to explain how she had done so without mentioning the Mage, but Mari had kept the details fuzzy, claiming lingering effects from the blow to her head.

Stimon sat, glaring at her. “Is there anything else?”

“Does there have to be? A common person assaulting and kidnapping a Mechanic? You should be calling for the man’s head,” Mari snapped. “And it’s certain that the attack on my caravan was also an attempt by Ringhmon to kidnap me before I even reached the city.”

“Do you have any proof of that?”

“The bandits used the same rifles—” She broke off as Stimon shook his head.

“Proof,” Stimon repeated.

“I saw some of them in Ringhmon!”

Stimon’s voice remained implacable as he slammed his hand on the desk. “Proof!”

“You want proof of something?” She dug in one pocket and tossed what she found onto Stimon’s big desk. “I found that inside the cell where they’d locked me.” Stimon just looked at it, his face revealing nothing of his thoughts. “It’s a far-listener, one apparently not made in any Mechanics Guild workshop.

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