The Dragons of Dorcastle by Jack Campbell

a sad laugh. “Let’s just say that my Guild and I haven’t always seen eye to eye on things. How does your Guild feel about Mages who don’t follow Guild teachings?”
    He took a moment to reply. “Mages must follow the dictates of our elders.”
    “I’m glad you didn’t follow their dictates concerning me,” Mari remarked. “I promise not to tell your elders.”
    Mage Alain gave her one of the those looks, not revealing much but conveying confusion nonetheless. “My elders would not speak with you.”
    “I know. I was just… Never mind. I’m glad that I didn’t do what Senior Mechanics in my Guild would have expected me to do when I met you. Just because you’re taught something doesn’t mean you have to accept every word of it. Unless it’s technical stuff, like operating instructions. Those you have to follow very closely. But that’s different.”
    He didn’t answer, and she wondered if the Mage were ignoring her, or if he was thinking about what she had said. But she was too tired to try to draw him out again, so Mari focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
    The night wore on, her pack seeming to be getting heavier with every step, and Mari began feeling an irrational resentment of the much lighter load of their remaining food and water that the Mage was carrying. She knew it was irrational: no Mechanic would entrust her tools to a Mage, and Mages were as notorious for their pride as Mechanics were. She couldn’t ask him to carry her pack, and he would never agree to even if she did.
    But she was also feeling a gradual building of fear again as the stars wheeled overhead in the slow ballet they had followed for countless years. Being eighteen allowed her to recover relatively quickly from tiredness, but even a young body had only so much to give. Mari could sense her final reserves of endurance draining down to exhaustion. The night still stretched unrelieved by signs of human presence in any direction. The sky remained clear, bringing a desert chill at night but promising another brutal day of sun hammering at them.
    I’ll carry your pack
, Calu offered.
    Mari shook her head, not looking to the side where Calu’s image paced her.
I can handle it
.
    You never let anyone help, Mari
, Calu scolded her. Even though he was wearing a Mechanic’s jacket, he seemed perfectly comfortable.
You were always like that when we were apprentices. You don’t have to do everything yourself.
    Then why do people keep asking me what to do? Why, whenever there’s a problem, do lots of apprentices and Mechanics look to me? I’m going to die out here, and there’s no one I can ask what to do.
    You’ve got that Mage,
Calu suggested.
You can’t trust him, though.
    I know! We had our last full bottles around midnight, and now there’s only one left to split between us. What if the Mage lied to me? What if there’s more than one bottle? What if he’s been sneaking extra drinks from that bottle all along? What if this Mage is just planning on walking me to death and then continuing on with all his hidden bottles of water until he reaches safety?
    She was on the verge of spinning around to confront the Mage with her suspicions when Mari caught herself. Calu wasn’t walking beside her. No one was.
I’m getting delirious.
“We’d better have another drink of water,” she croaked.
    “That is probably necessary.” Mage Alain sounded as weary and dry as she felt. But he pulled out the last bottle and offered it to her. “Take it.”
    She drank slowly, hoping the moisture would soak into the lining of her throat on the way down, but stopped herself when the bottle was still about half full. “Here. The rest is yours.”
    “No. You have the rest.”
    Her suspicions flared again, then Mari took a close look at the Mage’s face and the obviously empty pack in which the water bottles had been carried. “You’re in as bad a shape as I am. Take your share.”
    “There is not enough for two. It does not