Unseen Secrets

by S. B. Sebrick

  "Guess not," the veteran said, shuddering.

  "You've been down in the cold too long." the boy said with an obnoxious laugh. "Go up to the steam gardens. I'll run the next watch myself."

  "You sure you can run this alone?" the Veteran asked, arching an incredulous eyebrow. "Even with the torch, you're not used to the moist cold down here. We always work in twos so no one ends up like them." He pointed toward the other prisoners, one in particular still gnawed on his bar like a savage beast.

  "I'll be fine," the young guard insisted. "You go on ahead, you old piece of charcoal."

  The veteran sighed in relent. "Very well. Remember, keep out of reach. They're crazy, not impotent. They can still strangle you through the bars."

  "I'll remember that," the boy replied. "Now go on and relax, I want to see if this stone prisoner reacts to sparks."

  "Just keep your distance," the Veteran advised, jangling his pocket. "Just because you haven't got the keys doesn't mean he won't try to kill you out of spite."

  "Look at him!" the boy replied. "He's just skin and bones. What could he do?"

  "Don't get too close," the Veteran replied, "Or you'll find out. Those are my orders. Easy on the elements too. Some of the prisoners haven't felt real heat in ages. Don't want to kill one accidentally. See you at the relief post."

  "See you then," the boy said, with a wave of dismissal. The veteran continued down the corridor, heat-starved prisoners lining their cells and reaching out at the flames. Their need for heat even outweighed their need for food, which only arrived twice each day in the form of meager gruel.

  The young guard stood there a moment, torch held high, watching Corvan and scratching his head curiously. From around his neck he drew a chain with a whistle on it. Corvan perked up at that, rattling his chains as he pursed his lips. The guard blew on the device, but it made no sound. Corvan winced, it was his after all, and he could hear it just fine. "I won this dicing the other day. Looks like I got cheated, it doesn't even work."

  When Corvan didn't offer a verbal reply, the young guard looked around cautiously. The other prisoners reached for him like so many dogs eager for scraps. Then, with a shrug, he said, "Well, no one here to see this. Time for some easy gold."

  He pulled a crystalline orb from his pocket, holding it tightly in his other hand. "I hate this part," he whispered. His veins glowed with orange heat and sparks flickered around his body like an elaborate light show. The prisoners shrieked in delight, hammering against their restraints as they drank in the extra elements. A few of them returned to a momentary state of sanity, staring at their surroundings as if for the first time. Then broke down into tears yet again.

  The boy's body convulsed, twisting and writhing against itself. Then he stood up again, but this time his back and neck craned forwards as if staring at the floor. He held his torch out like a staff, his limbs trembling slightly.

  "Greetings. My name is Zerik Shaldir. I don't know your name," the boy said, his voice thick with age and his head shaking slightly as if possessed by something less than human. "But I know where you come from. I have an inkling of what you're capable of and in a glance I can see what you want. Promise to help me with the occasional side job and freedom can be yours. Are we agreed?"

  Zerik stood there, waiting, surrounded by ravenous prisoners drinking in the elements of his presence. The scene turned Corvan's stomach and set his teeth on edge but fear never caught hold of his mind. He'd witnessed delirium before, driven by darker powers than mere heat withdrawals. In the shadows of the flickering torchlight, he merely smiled.

  "Excellent!" Zerik said, his voice raspy with delight. "I'll send someone to fetch you. I'm putting together a team even as we speak. It's just a matter of motivating their members. Oh, just to show you my good will, I thought you might want to know one other thing. The Sight Seeker child will be among them, not a willing participant by any means, but present. I assumed you'd like to meet, considering what you have in common," Corvan licked is lips in anticipation.

  With a bow and a flourish, Zerik faded from the boy's countenance. The young guard shook himself, as if from a dream. The prisoners quieted a bit, reverting to moaning and reaching now that the extra elements had faded.

  "I wonder if you even have eyes at all," the boy muttered, pocketing the stone as he stared at Corvan. "How could someone so weak in the elements, with no connection to cold or heat, be worth so much trouble?"

  Corvan only sat there, legs crossed, smiling. The boy shuddered and gulped. "By Raejin it's creepy down here. How can I feel your eyes on me when they're not even open? Ugh."

  With a light-hearted laugh, he continued down the corridor. Over his shoulder, he called, "Whoever you are, I'm going home to a warm meal and a soft bed. You're stuck down here. Your mind games gain you nothing."

  Even as the boy vanished around the corner, hailed by the moans of other prisoners, Corvan held onto this smile. "All secrets come to light eventually," he muttered, pondering on the boy's questions. "You'll have your answers soon enough. Very soon,"

  Corvan licked his lips. "Gods, how I've missed the sea."

  Chapter 11

  Keevan gasped for air, but the icy water enveloping him offered none. His flailing limbs smashed uselessly against something flat and hard on every side. A long, rectangular box. He was trapped and drowning in a stone coffin.

  He fought against the unyielding barrier around him, trying to use his elemental vision, but to no avail. Through the water, he heard muffled chanting and felt vibrations in the stone around him as if a hundred men marched in place. He poked his fingers through a few air holes, but only water awaited him outside.

  The need for air burned in his lungs. His fingers and toes already felt numb from the cold, leaving him to paw helplessly against his prison walls like a maimed dog. He rolled onto his back, kicking upwards with all his strength against the top of his coffin, but the stone slabs didn’t budge an inch.

  Panic tore at Keevan’s mind. He ordered his mouth to stay shut, to choose the burning pain in his lungs over the cool water outside. Finally, his innate, desperate need for air overruled his conscious thoughts. He gasped, only to take in a deep gulp of brackish water. The liquid coated his lungs, and he hacked and coughed to no avail. He thrashed against the coffin a final time, his blow weakening. This was it. He was going to die here, drowned to death. Freezing and alone in the dark. He felt his consciousness fading, dimming, dying into nothing.

  Just as suddenly, Keevan found himself lying on his back in the basement of the Arnadi mansion. He rolled onto his side, coughing instinctively, but no water left his lungs. His pulse racing, air rushing into him with each breath, he sat up and groaned.

  “Interesting," Madol said, as if describing a rare animal. “I bet that much fear would force any Tri-Being to electrocute himself. What did you see?”

  “A Suadan burial ritual, with me as the body," Keevan admitted, pulling his knees up under his chin and hugging himself. The once spacious room suddenly felt all too tight and damp.

  Madol whistled. “Yes, that would probably scare even a Rhetan into over exerting his command of lightning. A dangerous trap indeed. You survived though."

  "I didn't know Tri-Beings could build something like that," Keevan sputtered. Even the memory alone left him chilled to the bone and trembling at every limb.

  "We can't," Madol explained, gesturing towards the wall. "Most of these relics are a thousand years old, from before the Age of Tears. They're irreplaceable. Take the memory stone for example. Only Sight Seeker powers could force an illusion like that on someone's mind."

  “I didn’t touch the stone," Keevan grumbled, gritting his teeth as he tried to still his racing heart and trembling hands. He wrapped his arms around his chest and rubbed his biceps, trying to chase from his mind the sensation of cold water filling his lungs.

  “You touched the cage’s bars. In ancient times, Sight Seekers could combine elemental and mental powers. Metal conducts electricity w
ell. I suspect that the memory transfer is conducted through the stone’s chosen element, as well as physical touch. Since it was also touching the metal base, under the wood, you connected with it," Madol mused, returning his attentions to the open cage. “That leaves two options as to the burglar’s identity."

  “A Tri-Being with a ridiculously proficient command of lightning. A Raejin Priest, perhaps," Keevan answered, getting to his feet despite his wobbly legs. He restrained himself from leaning against the wall of cages and cupboards for support, lest he stumble across another torturous memory.

  A part of him wanted to run screaming from the room until he reached the warm, open gardens outside. Madol’s expectant attitude kept him rooted in place though, judging him for some kind of useful traits. After years of impotence and discouragement from the city at large though, Madol’s appreciation for his abilities offered something new and fresh, enough to keep Keevan’s instincts in check. Barely.

  “A Raejin would have little interest in this. It's more likely it was someone with practically no command at all," Madol mused, scratching his trim beard. “There are some Rhetans with abilities so faint, they’re only suited for the most menial of elemental tasks. They wouldn’t be the sort to master mind something like this, but I’d imagine whoever is calling the shots wouldn’t have much trouble finding a willing ally if he promised enough gold."

  Keevan paused at that comment, glancing down at his trembling hands and back to the cage with newfound respect. “So, I could have stolen whatever was stored here too? I’ve never seen myself like that."

  “You have never seen your outlander heritage as a strength," Madol finished, chuckling from a joke only he could understand. “I had a similar experience growing up, but with my elemental training. I was a bit of an underdog."

  “You?” Keevan asked incredulously. "Not based on what I can see."

  Madol shrugged, his steel armor glistening in the light of the glowing war hammer behind them. The red light cast eerie shadows over his short black hair and dark eyes, as if he weren’t completely of this world. “Let’s just say a Persuader has to prove himself, a lot. Especially a Haldran like me. Now, to answer your question. No, I don’t think you could have stolen this cage’s contents."

  “That’s not what you just said," Keevan said, standing up indignantly. Granted, at his full height his head still bobbed around the Persuader’s shoulder. Madol tapped his sword’s hilt menacingly, eyes full of silent reprisals for Keevan’s outburst.

  “What I meant to say,” Keevan amended, “was you just said I could handle a stone without dying. So care to explain why I couldn’t take the cage’s contents."

  “Because,” Madol replied simply, “you were screaming like a little girl for the last three minutes from one stone alone. Whoever did this, took ten of these stones in under five."

  Keevan had to pause at that last detail, turning back to the open cage. The same terrifying memory stone winked back at him, still buried in the wood at the base. The cage door hung open, its lock melted into a formless mass. Half of it rested in the frame of the cage. Someone had simply melted down the lock and pulled the door open when the mechanism lost its cohesion.

  “Now, Keevan," Madol said, folding his arms. His voice rang with challenge. “Tell me what happened here last night. Bring all the important points together. Don't guess. Just tell me what the facts indicate."

  With a nervous gulp Keevan took one final sweep across the room. “Where did you say they kept the Pagoda?”

  “Upstairs, in the show room," Madol answered, taking a step back, his voice patient but determined. “Its cage was designed with a similar system. Without the key, you’d have to suffer a terrible trauma. Thank goodness those stones don’t work on animals or the creature would have surely killed somebody."

  “There’s also the prisoner they were hanging above the stairs," Keevan added, pointing up the way they came. “A skilled forger just got done re-shaping the iron rings in the walls. I think whoever they had was chained up and they were melted in the escape."

  Madol’s lips twitched in a carefully repressed smile, but his eyes glowed with something akin to pride. “Go on."

  “Well, then there’s the war hammer and the Pagoda. If the thief was just after a profit and impervious to memory stones, he or she could have grabbed the war hammer, although perhaps it was too bulky to take with them? At the least, they could have looted the other cages," Keevan turned back to the wall, counting quickly. Through his elemental vision, he could differentiate between the subtle glow of a memory stone and pulsing light of charged Danica. “There were ten others only guarded with intense memories."

  “Meaning our thief or thieves were targeting this cage in particular, for reasons other than money. Plus, they had a way to transport memory stones without touching them or their elements," Madol concluded. “So, the Pagoda?” He left the question hanging.

  Keevan smiled, feeling like a child who’d just figured out how to beat his father at cards. “The Pagoda didn’t just escape accidentally. It served as a city-wide distraction. It would take time to free the prisoner. Even the best of Tri-Beings can’t heat hardened steel to those temperatures without time and focus. It would take my dad about thirty minutes."

  “You remember when I told the Crier outside that one of the Temple Masters was due to investigate the scene?” Madol asked. “I lied. A Master was here last night. They’re so attuned with the elements, they can even trace which elements were used in the past and where. It took him an hour to sense out the scene you just unfolded for me, including the prisoner Arnadi never mentioned. Great job."

  Keevan gulped, shrugging his shoulders nervously. “I just tell you what I see. We still don’t know how many thieves there were or,” Keevan paused a second, glancing upstairs. “We also don’t know how the thieves knew the door to this place was hidden behind a tapestry, which they accessed without breaking the lock."

  “Probably an inside job," Madol finished with a grunt of satisfaction. “I’ll keep that in mind when I question the family and their servants. You can go home now. I’ll take it from here."

  “You don’t need me anymore?” Keevan asked, flashing his biggest and most hopeful smile. “I can see what elements people are controlling when they react to your questions."

  “I’ve been questioning liars for over a decade," Madol answered stiffly, “I won’t need your help for the next part. But I’ll be in touch. No go home and study up. The Ranking is close."

  Keevan felt his excitement fade with all the ease of an extinguished candle. “Oh. You’re right. Thanks. I’ll let myself out."

  Madol nodded. “Go ahead. I’m going to follow one other lead," He stood there, eyes fixed on each and every cage, as if by pure willpower he could summon their testimonies as witnesses to the crimes they’d seen.

  Chapter 12

  With a sigh of relent, Keevan headed up the dark stairs and back into the Arnadi mansion. He paused at the rings in the walls and the drips of cooled metal on the steps. It would take elemental power indeed to melt such a substance, with the haste such a breakout as this would require.

  “Or a Danica based tool," Keevan whispered, touching the cooled puddle of metal at his feet. “That would provide enough heat. But Danica is strictly controlled by the Council. Which would mean whoever helped with this escape has access to weapons that can—”

  A nervous flutter tickled Keevan’s senses in warning. Etrendi reached such heights in Tri-Being society by having a strong enough command of the elements to kill another Tri-Being. If such a person were armed with a Danica weapon like this, the possibilities were much more daunting. Keevan glanced down at Madol’s flickering shadow in the light of the war hammer. Did the Persuader really know what he was up against?

  Switching one last time to his elemental vision, Keevan scoured the stairs. This time, he noticed something at his feet. It wasn’t melted steel or scuff marks from a fleeing thief. It was a clear, empty bubble of moisture les
s air peeking out at him from under the lip of the top most step. Its field only extended a few feet and wasn't very strong, or Madol would have noticed it as he descended the stairs.

  Leaning down, Keevan switched to his normal vision. He found a smooth, perfectly black stone, carrying an odd rune on the top. He glanced down at its hiding place and back up at the rings above him. One of the thieves must have dropped it while freeing the prisoner. It felt cool to the touch and so polished he nearly dropped it.

  A slip of paper caught his attention, now unfolding from its prison beneath the repulsor stone. He picked it up, reading the short message. It took a moment to decipher the untidy scrawl.

  'Thought you could use this, Sight Seeker.

  Sincerely,

  A friend.'

  A thrill of excitement and curiosity shot through him. Who could afford such a trinket as this, much less leave it hidden in such a way only Keevan could find it. His vision led him right to the repulsor orb and enough wealth to buy a second smithy for Nariem should he decide to sell it. Perhaps Nariem and Bahjal had a point, there was something to this elemental vision of his.

  Then there was this “friend.” Someone knew Madol was bringing him to the scene of the crime, it was the only explanation. Did one of the thieves leave it here for him, under the direction of some mysterious benefactor? Or had someone else slipped into the Arnadi compound undetected? Was this the “stone” Kors and the other thief were arguing about losing? If so, someone risked their ire to make sure he got it. So many questions he couldn't answer.

  He squeezed the orb, licking his lips in anticipation. The mysteries were piling up left and right, but the repulsor orb in his hand and the gold at his belt gave him added courage and curiosity. What else could he achieve with his elemental vision?

  He thought again of Calistra in her Belenokan attire, shoulder and upper back bare to the afternoon heat. Would she be impressed by his sudden wealth? On the streets she would always have her guards or Etrendi suitors in tow, here might be the only place to speak with her alone. He turned his attention back to the thievery... and the prospect of seeing her somewhere on the Arnadi grounds.