"Our employer has much in store for Issamere," Kors offered carefully, "Your father included," The boredom around him faded as he directed his attention to Calistra. Keevan didn't stop him. Potent feelings could envelope a Tri-Being's mind, trap them in a constant cycle of emotion. Keeping Calistra focused on revenge kept her from breaking down right there in the tunnels and killing them both. She sniffed, regaining her composure. A glance revealed their fields were neutralizing the Watcher's. For now, they were in the clear.
“Are you sure the Watcher is really just one man with two Danica devices?” Keevan asked, still awed by the scope of the Danica field before them. To encompass all the catacombs below the city, it would have to span a league in every direction from the center of Issamere.
“It’s the pride and joy of the Harbor Guild," Calistra offered. “They are charged with Hiertalia’s defense after all. Is it any wonder the Outlanders have never made it to our shores?”
“I suppose not," Keevan said numbly, a dark nausea settling in the pit of his stomach. He tried not to think about the countless others like him the Harbor Guild killed to keep Hiertalia a secret from his kinsman.
“I’m sorry,” Calistra said, giving his shoulder an apologetic squeeze. “I didn’t realize. That was uncalled for."
Keevan didn’t respond, letting the sudden wave of loneliness he felt give way to the marvelous Danica field before them. Somehow, he’d return to his people. But even voicing such thoughts to his parents or Bahjal could get them all killed. Such words would bring the Harbor Guild's wrath down on their heads, Malik Morgra's interests notwithstanding.
As they moved on, Keevan noticed a faint glow in the walls and ceiling. With each shift in the elements around them, their colors adapted to mimic those of the tunnels. Occasionally, little flecks of red and blue peaked out among the melted stones.
Danica. The realization struck with such force, Keevan froze mid step and gasped audibly.
“What’s wrong?” Calistra demanded.
“N-nothing," Keevan answered with a nervous gulp. “A drop of water fell down the neck of my shirt. Cold."
In his mind though, his thoughts raced. Buried within the walls themselves, where thousands of tiny strands of Danica. They pulsed and thrived like a living soul. The Watcher’s weapons didn’t extend his reach for a mile, they merely connected him to the network already in place. Surely, a network thousands of years old. Implementing something like this beneath the city in current times, unnoticed, would be impossible.
A wave of shifting moisture washed towards them, interrupting his thoughts. The distant drip, drip of water faded entirely from the silent tunnel and the shifting air felt hot as it swirled across his skin. The Watcher was angry and bored now, a tough combination to counter.
“Alright, Kors. Your turn,” Keevan said, “He’s bored and drying us out. We need more moisture."
“My Sister," Kors grumbled, lumbering along behind them. His shifting weight echoed down the tunnel with each heavy, booted step. “She’s a stubborn thing. I’ve tried to reach her for years, but she’s always insisted on putting Malik and Issamere before blood and kin. We use to argue for hours about it, so frustrating."
“Wait," Keevan paused, watching the Etrendi’s fields of elements shift and glow redder.
More than Calistra’s steady sorrow should allow. “Calistra, what are you feeling right now?”
“I just told you something I’ve never told another living soul," Calistra muttered bitterly.
Her voice broke for a moment and Keevan couldn’t help but glance at her face, feeling a pang of guilt and bringing tears to such an angelic face. “How do you think I feel?” She asked.
“Better than we’ll feel if you two get any angrier," Keevan answered evenly.
“It wasn’t me," Calistra insisted, rubbing moisture from her eyes. “I won’t be able to summon fire for a few minutes at least, after this."
Keevan glanced at the field once more, watching as the bubble of element around them gradually heated up. They didn’t pass through the Watcher’s elements anymore. Instead, the sentry’s reach tickled their elemental field, curling around it like a shark deciding if a wayward swimmer were debris or food.
“We only have a few more seconds until he finds us. Whose-” Keevan paused, slapping his forehead as the answer struck him like a physical blow. “Kors, stop thinking about your sister, she makes you frustrated. That causes heat."
Kors paused, his face going white. “I-I-I didn’t realize."
“Focus on something else. Now," Keevan ordered. The Watcher’s strands of energy were definitely dancing around their own field. Any second now the sentry would decide to act, sending either a flood or an inferno. Either way, they wouldn’t survive.
“Like what? I can always summon water when thinking of my sister."
“You’re making hot water, the Watcher can track it," Keevan cut it, whirling on Kors. He covered the big Tri-Being’s eyes. “Picture the guards at the Arnadi mansion. Imagine their routines. Find the blind spots. How would you sneak in?”
Calistra caught her breath, staring down the tunnel. “I can feel him watching us," she
muttered. “Quick, Kors. Focus on it."
“The guards...” Kors muttered, licking his lips. “Pose as someone else, someone with easy access. Or just wait until night fall," he went on, nervously rambling from one plan to another. Slowly, the elements in their elemental field subsided into the opposite of the Watcher’s. The sentry’s elements passed around them, ignoring them completely.
“Thank Belenok," Calistra sighed, her shoulders sagging in relief. She hugged herself, scratching her arms, belly and neck.
“More like Suada," Kors answered, “Fire almost got us killed. She’s the Goddess of rain, after all. I... I thank you, Keevan. I didn’t realize how much my frustration with my sister would affect my heat."
“Long as we get through this alive, I don’t care," Keevan replied, taking deep breaths to steady his racing heart. He did not want to know how close they just passed death by. “How much farther?”
“We follow this tunnel for another five or ten minutes," Calistra estimated, her eyes unfocused and she touched each fingertip in turn as she recalled something from memory. “Then we’ll find a door that opens up into an old storm drain. The Watcher’s reach won’t extend there, into the palace itself."
“Finally," Kors shuddered in anticipation, scratching himself repeatedly. “I’ve had just about enough of these tingling sensations. Like dozens of ants clambering about on my chest."
"Pass this next ladder," Calistra instructed, eyes unfocused as she reviewed her memories of the palace layout. A narrow corridor to the right abruptly ended in melted rock, steel rods extending out in to a series of rungs towards a locked door in the ceiling. "We'll take a right at the next intersection, then-"
Suddenly, the stone beneath Kors' feet gave way. As he lurched forwards, his shin smashed against the unyielding rock floor. His boredom vanished in an instant. "Belenok's fury that hurt!" Kors growled, rubbing the surely bruised leg. He noticed Keevan's shocked stare. "What?"
Keevan stared at the proceedings, numb. All their careful planning and progress undone in an instant. Kors' boredom was gone, his recently kindled ire merging with Calistra’s. The walls around them glowed a bloody red to Keevan's elemental vision, Danica carrying word to its master of anger and heat only a Tri-Being could wield...
"By the Gods," Calistra muttered. Kors' face turned ashen white as realization dawned on him. They all felt the heavy rumble in the distance, growing with startling ferocity each passing second.
"The ladder!" Calistra cried, sprinting down the narrow hall to their right. A dull roar of hot air shot through their hair and tossed their loose clothing in every direction. Only seconds remained. Her right hand glowing white with heat as she pushed into the lock, melting it away.
In moments, she'd vanished through the open trap door. Keevan scrambled up the ladder, partial
ly propelled by Kors' panicked progress rising up underneath him. Calistra got a hold of Keevan with her cool off-hand, hauling him over the edge to safety. Keevan risked a glance over his shoulder, for the space of a single heartbeat, the scene mesmerized him.
More Danica than Nariem ever worked with glowed like veins of raw power beneath the city. The strands of energy linking the elements to the Watcher stretched and pulled like a bow string on the moment of release. A bright, deadly tapestry of fire and lightning, meant to eradicate all life beneath the palace floor.
The Kors tumbled into a dark storage room, lit only by Keevan's glowing eyes. Impossibly bright light flashed beneath them as Kors slammed the opening shut and threw himself down upon it. The ground beneath them roared like a savage beast, infuriated at its lost prey. The stone floor rattled and shook, bags and shelves tumbling to the floor. The trap door buckled against Kors' weight, spurting thin wisps of flame and crackles of lightning from its edges.
Then, just as suddenly as it arrived, the assault faded.
"Why weren't we just incinerated?" Calistra whimpered through gritted teeth, cradling her right hand, smoke rising from its swollen black flesh. Flecks of molten iron lodged in her skin sent constant trickles of steam into the air. Blue strands flickered around her eyes as she calmed, commanding water from her tears into the wounded extremity.
"The Watcher's field doesn't extend into the palace," Keevan noted, looking around the room. Aside from Kors' and Calistra's emotions, no other strands of energy hinted to nearby Tri-Beings. "The brunt of the blast was limited to the tunnels below. Can't have the Watcher eroding the palace's foundations at every flicker of movement."
The scent of smoldering flesh ran through Keevan's nostrils, settling down in his gut with waves of nausea. He glance at her hand, noting the dull, faint strands connecting that part of her body to the elements. She'd heated her own extremity passed its breaking point. It would dull her command of fire until she could get it healed, though he doubted any Suadan would be skilled enough to restore such extensive damage.
"That hurt?" Kors asked, nodding at Calistra's hand.
"How's your knee?" she shot back bitterly, jaw clenched in pain.
Kors chuckled. "You're fine then. How did you melt the lock back there? I've never seen an Etrendi melt through steel like that."
"I had help," Calistra grimaced, forcing her fingers to straighten. Among the swollen flesh and strands of melted skin, a thin ring glistened with the subtle glow of pure Danica. "I thought I could sneak this back into dad's vault later. Looks like that won't work until the swelling goes down." She hissed in pain again, heat flaring around her body at the mention of her father.
"Just think about your mother," Keevan responded, gently lifting her wounded hand by the wrist. Pursing his lips, he blew softly on the wound. "What were her last words to you?"
With a sad smile of thanks, Calistra closed her eyes. The air around her chilled in response to her sorrow, drawing heat from her injured hand and sending goose bumps down Keevan's arms. Given time, she could even numb her hand with cold. That would help with the pain at least.
"As nasty as that wound is," Kors prodded, tapping on the trap door beneath him, "We should get moving. The guards definitely heard that blast and there's no way of telling if the Watcher knows we got away or not."
"He knows we did," Keevan sighed, turning away from Calistra. "With elemental commands that sensitive, he'd feel the emotions of his victims before they died. Well, the body's elemental discharge at least."
"Oh. I'd forgotten about that," Kors said glumly.
"Yes, we have a Watcher and his guards to worry about," Keevan snapped. "I'm not exactly here of my own free will. If they arrest us, you'll go to the dungeons and I'll be home by nightfall. The Etrendi can help me find Bahjal and you two can go rot."
"They wouldn't find her in time," Kors countered, massaging his knee. "Your best hope is still helping us finish our mission. Then you two can go free."
Keevan bit back a reply, considering his options. Perhaps Kors was right. Assuming the thieves hadn't moved their camp after Keevan's departure, it would still take days to navigate that tangled display of tunnels. Frustration gnawed at him. If only Bahjal's life weren't in danger.
"Fine," Keevan sighed, picked up a few bags of supplies, knocked open by the miniature earthquake of their arrival. "If we've got to sneak passed guards on alert, we'll need tools. What's stored here anyway? Hard tack... Dried fruit... fishing tackle..." A chill settled down in Keevan's bones.
"Those aren't Etrendi foods," Kors echoed numbly. He whirled on Calistra. "Why didn't you tell us? This is not what I signed up for. Holding a fellow Rhet hostage is bad enough, now we're taking on the Harbor Guild?!"
"All thanks to your bruised knee. We could have snuck right under their feet otherwise."
They bickered back and forth for a minute, but their words flowed around Keevan's mind like wind around the stone. His thoughts echoed on Kors' last words. 'The Harbor Guild.' The Tri-Being Navy dedicated to wiping Outlanders from the seas, keeping Hiertalia hidden from Keevan's kind. They were the one organization unanimously decided against keeping a Sight Seeker from their midst. If they caught him sneaking around their domain, they wouldn't ask questions.
Bahjal's life wasn't the only one at risk now.
*****
Again, two torches bathed the starving prisoners in warmth. The younger guard hauled a cauldron of steaming soup, hissing at the strain the great weight put on his back. The veteran carried a ladle in his off-hand, pausing to pour one spoon full of the contents into each prisoner's bowl at the foot of their cell. Some lapped at it like dogs. Others curled up around it like it was their only child, savoring the heat in every drop.
When they poured Corvan's portion, he sat still as a corpse, the same smile etched across his scared features. Usually, he had to reach one foot across the cell and scoop the bowl to him by his toes. The chains anchoring his wrists to the wall behind him didn't allow much room to move.
"What's gotten into this one?" the veteran asked, hesitating. "Why's he smiling now?"
"Dunno," the young guard answered with a nervous gulp. The smile had started after the message he'd delivered for a bag full of gold and no questions asked. "I sparked him a few times is all. Maybe he's one of those Raejin followers that likes lightning. It would explain why this place doesn't bother him. Nothing bothers them."
The veteran paused, glaring at the boy. His instincts were sharp. The young guard shuddered, anxiety racing across his skin and painting a guilty picture across his face for all to see. "You were paid off, weren't you? What did you do?"
"Just a message stone, nothing big," the boy insisted, shrugging innocently. "A few well wishes from a family member, I figured."
"You should be flogged," the veteran scowled, jerking his torch towards Corvan. "Just for making this man even more unnerving. I'll never get that smile out of my head," A heavy rumble rocked through the stone underfoot. Every prisoner froze, eyes wide in surprise.
"It's just the Watcher, dealing with a few rats," the veteran assured them. "Back to your meals."
"The barbarians from the South, most likely," the boy hissed, setting down his pot of stew and stretching. "I heard their last two attempts ended the same way. When will they learn, you can't beat the Watcher in his tunnels? It's a quick way to die, at least. Unless he uses water instead of fire."
Another rumble echoed underfoot. The veteran's face paled and the boy glanced around nervously. "Two groups perhaps? That's new. Usually they don't survive past the first assault. They say the Watcher burns hot enough to melt stone," A third tremor wracked the dungeon, setting its foundations creaking like an old body forced from a long sleep.
"How many men can the Watcher kill in a single blast?" Corvan asked. The veteran whirled at him, waving the ladle like a blade. Then paused, licking his lips in nervous embarrassment.
"Easy," the boy laughed. "He's still locked in the cell,
remember? Just stay out of reach. Suada's mercy, he's really getting to you, isn't he?"
"Answer my question, boy," Corvan asked gruffly. "How many?"
The boy paused, considering the stories. He paled nervously, his hands shaking in growing fear. "Hundreds, I imagine, burned to death in those narrow tunnels. Raejin's fury, did I have a hand in this? What kind of message did I deliver?"
The earth heaved a fourth time. Corvan's smile grew. "Then I'd say your city is under attack by a sizeable force. My, my, that Zerik works fast. He offered to set me free, but I don't think I'll require his full services."
"What services?" the veteran demanded, walking up to the cage. After all, Corvan sat alongside a few feet of chain, he couldn't reach them if he tried. The earth rocked beneath them again. "Did you have a hand in this?!"
"My gifts don't extend into the earth. Granted, even after weeks of torture, I managed to keep a few of them secret," Corvan admitted, staring at them with his hungry hazel eyes. "But no secret remains so for long. There are two races among the Outlanders. Sight Seekers command the mind. Varadours however, command something else entirely."
"What are you babbling about?" the boy demanded, hammering the bars of Corvan's cell with his leather fists. "What message did I deliver?"
Corvan smiled, the wide, toothy grin of a predator inches from satisfaction. "You once asked why I never opened my eyes to see you. The answer is the same as my response to an offer of escape. I don't need my eyes to watch you. Just as I don't need Zerik's help to do, this."
Before their eyes, the dark shadows of the dungeon wrapped around Corvan, carrying him into obscurity. He vanished.
"Wh-what?!" the veteran gasped, standing there in shock, mouth agape.
"How?" the young guard demanded, peering through the bars. He hung his torch in one of the metal catches along the iron bars, eyes narrowing as he tried to pierce the thick shadows. "It must be a trick of some kind. Is there a tunnel in there or something?"
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