Unseen Secrets

by S. B. Sebrick

  For a moment, Bahjal's carefree attitude balked and he felt his hair stand on end as genuine fear radiated from her in a mild electric charge. Then, just as suddenly, she contained her emotions in a quick sweep of element and laughed, a carefree tone that usually hinted at impending mischief. He couldn't help but grin at her mirth, it set his anxiety at ease, if only partially.

  "You'll figure it out, Keevs," Bahjal said, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. "Consider it part of your training. Now, pay attention, they're getting ready."

  Derone stood in the bottom center of the bowl, blindfolded, with cotton stuffed in his ears. Both Harbor and Suadan attendants lined the outer edge of the bowl, looking down on them as if they stood in some sort of arena, their faces mixtures of hope and tension. The High Priestess stood opposite the doors at the bowl's edge, guards on either side of her. The Harbor Guild's men stood by the entrance, weapons at the ready.

  "Keevan and Bahjal will descend the stairs and approach the Harbor Master from behind," Lanasha ordered. "The Harbor Master will avoid them based on sensations of heat or water that he feels nearby. Begin."

  They stood there on the edge of the bowl for a quiet moment, Keevan working to sift through all the bright colors around him. The audience above drew a great deal of moisture around them with their undivided attention, not to mention varying combinations of heat and even lightning. Keevan forced himself to focus, shifting his attention to only the strands connecting the Harbor Master to nearby elements.

  "Alright, Bahjal," Keevan said, swallowing his nerves. "The closer we are to him, the more intense your emotions will need to be. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, his sensitivity will be greatest when we're within reach," Bahjal nodded, closing her eyes and reaching out with her field. "I can sense him, pulling at the nearest heat sources."

  Derone grinned, turning and facing them. The harbormen above whispered and pointed in delight, anxious to see the feared Outlander humiliated.

  "You shouldn't feel him at all," Keevan said anxiously. The Harbor Master was boiling with moisture and anger. Tough emotions to counter.

  "Oh," Bahjal said, hesitating a moment. She held out her hand. "I think this might be easier with my eyes closed, so I can picture things in my head easier."

  "Alright," Keevan agreed, taking her hand. Whatever tricks she needed to make the emotions more poignant. "Your fields are going to counter each other out. Now, do you remember stacking my father's tools?"

  "You mean his tower of trinkets?" Bahjal chuckled, tugging on her pony tail. "He never uses half of them. Waste of space, really."

  "True," Keevan agreed, gently pulling her to his right, along the edge of the bowl between two benches. Derone followed them along, adjusting his posture to face them every few moments. His lips were peeled back into a vicious smile, but he said nothing, he didn't need to.

  "There you go," Keevan said encouragingly. Before his eyes, Keevan watched Bahjal's growing boredom counter the moisture in the Derone's field. "Remember that endless line of rusty tools in that hot smithy, empty hours of polish and rags."

  There, the moisture was accounted for. Now to deal with the Derone's heat and anger. As they stood now, Bahjal and the Harbor Master's fields were competing for the same elements, creating a mutual awareness of the other's presence and relative strength.

  "Bahjal, we're doing great," Keevan pried, "but now you need to tell me something that made you sad. Not devastated, not yet, but just sad."

  "Lying to you," Bahjal admitted, a little too quickly. It occurred to Keevan she'd likely had this conversation played out in her head a dozen times, trying to find the right wording to describe what she felt and why. "For years I wanted to tell you who I really was. I watched you struggled, powerless, while other Tri-Beings poked fun at you. I wanted to stop them with my power, but I couldn't. I couldn't."

  "Focus on that feeling," Keevan whispered, licking his lips in anticipation. Now wasn't the time for getting the full story, she'd likely feel relieved after she finished telling him the truth, not sad. "There we go."

  The fields slid together seamlessly. The Harbor Master stopped turning, his grin vanishing as his brow furrowed in concentration. The attendants gasped, some in fear as their hair stood on end, others in relief, which didn't carry any element at all.

  "Alright, boredom and sadness, hold it steady. We're taking a step down now, slowly..." Keevan guided Bahjal down a step, onto the next ring of benches a few feet closer to the Harbor Master. He wasn't about to let her stumble, as Kors did, and blow their only shot at freedom to Raejin's fury.

  A flicker of heat, too weak to manifest as flame, blossomed into light over Keevan's shoulder. The Harbor Master spun, facing them again, his grin returned to his former glory. One of the harbormen smiled down at Keevan.

  "He's generating heat," Keevan said, pointing up at a blond seaman in wind-worn leathers. The man faced the High Priestess in mock surprise, palms open in a defensive posture.

  "I sensed the disturbance as well," Lanasha added, stopping up the attendant's mouth before any words could leave it. "Though I couldn't pin point the source, I've a simple solution. All the attendants will leave the hall. Every. Single. One. This is between myself, the Harbor Master, Bahjal and the boy. No one else."

  In moments, the room was clear, with only the faint bickering of the Suadans and Harbor Guildsmen outside to distract Keevan from the task at hand. Once again, he and Bahjal walked behind Derone, who now turned in a slow circle away from them, searching in vain within his field.

  They stepped within six feet of the Harbor Master, when Keevan watched his anger explode. Though the Tri-Being stood still and calm, he breathed through gritted teeth, his jugular bulging in frustration. The air around him bent and warped with fervent heat.

  Keevan looked from the edifice of rage and then back at Bahjal, his stomach churning sickly as his mind recognized the only logical option. They stood on the bottom floor, only six feet from the Harbor Master, but Bahjal's sadness wasn't enough to counter his rage. Keevan turned her so she faced him, her back to their target.

  "Open your eyes, Bahj," Keevan asked, taking a deep breath. Her response had to be genuine, it was the only way to counter the opposing field.

  She opened her eyes, trusting and warm. She held his forearms and nodded. "We're close aren't we? What's next?"

  "When we get out of here," Keevan said, forcing his brow to furrow in rage, "We're done."

  "Done?" Bahjal asked, blinking in confusion. "What do you mean?"

  "Done. No longer friends," Keevan said, spitting in her face. "You lied to me for years. I can't trust a word out of your mouth. You somehow beat my vision, which makes you someone I can never truly trust. Ever."

  Bahjal's field buckled under the sudden verbal assault. The moment his spit hit her face, he watched her field switch to fear and most importantly, despair. Her body plunged into a cold so intense, the ribbons on her dress crystalize in a thin layer of ice. Holding her cold forearms, he pushed her back a step and paused.

  There, around the Harbor Master, was a distinct lack of fear. Anger and focus, yes, but the Tri-Being wasn't afraid of failure. Keevan considered the wall of heat billowing around their opponent. Why wasn't he at least nervous?

  The realization set Keevan's teeth on edge. Derone's nose wasn't plugged, just his ears. The air around him was hot enough to burn hair or fabric. The Tri-Being was waiting to smell them close by, then act. Bahjal's field made that effort a moot point, but the real challenge lay in adjusting her field to also counter the Derone's security. His lack of fear meant Bahjal needed to feel scared. Her despair needed to worsen as well, if they were to get within melee range.

  "For two years there was only one Tri-Being who really took the time to understand me, who befriended me despite my lack of elemental power. Now, I find you were just another Etrendi with your own agenda, looking to use me however you saw fit. I never want to see you again, after this moment, Bahj. Ever."

  W
ith that, Keevan shoved her away, with all his strength. He watched her eyes widen in panic and surprise from the blow and sudden disorientation, tears moistening her face as she tumbled into Derone. They fell into the first set of benches, sparks of electricity arching into the surrounding stones.

  "No!" Derone said, scrambling to his feet, pale with surprise. The security he felt, manifest in a lack of electricity, vanished. Fear and anger coursed around him like duel tides, pulling heat and electricity around his body with each heartbeat.

  "The boy spoke the truth," Lanasha said, stroking her chin in deep thought, eyes unfocused. "He's more capable than we thought. I wouldn't have believed it possible... without any elemental powers of his own... fascinating. Quite fascinating," The Harbor Master whirled on her, engaging in a bitter war of words that Keevan couldn't make out due to the impact of a certain, brunette projectile.

  Bahjal caught Keevan in a fierce hug. "I'm so sorry, Keevs. I'm so sorry!"

  "You?" Keevan asked in bewilderment. "What did you do? I'm the one who spit in your face."

  "I know that was just for my field. I wanted to wait for a better time to tell you, but this will do," Bahjal said, burying her face in his chest. The words rushed out of her so quickly, he could barely catch them all. He couldn't help but wrap his arms around her and stroke her hair. "You couldn't read my elements all these years because as long as I focused on emotions that didn't carry element, you couldn't see anything."

  "Well, that makes sense," Keevan replied, amazed at her level of awareness. Her reactions to his words were perfectly appropriate, yet here she was, forgiving him in a heartbeat. "What emotion did you use?"

  "Love," she answered softly.

  The wheels in his head spun quickly, analyzing two very different facts with equal haste. The first, was Bahjal's sudden admission of something he should have seen ages ago. Now he understood the dismay in her eyes back in the herbalist's shop when he mentioned buying flowers for Calistra. Now he knew why she could forgive him so easily. He couldn't help but feel something for her in return.

  The second fact his mind caught on to, was the deteriorating conversation between the Harbor Master and the High Priestess. Their fields were locked in an elemental wrestling match, as each tried to impose their emotions on the other. A cloud of steam built between them, whirling around like a miniature tornado of energy. Then, he watched Lanasha gain the upper hand, a strand of water reaching out along one of her tendrils and touching the Harbor Master's skin.

  The calming element took effect instantly, dampening his rage but focusing what remained. Derone spun on Keevan and Bahjal, eyes murderous. There wasn't time to dive aside, only a mere second to say one word to Bahjal before the Harbor Master unleashed a torrent of lightning.

  "I love you too," Keevan said back, hugging her tightly.

  The lightning bolt left the Harbor Master in full fury. An instant before its departure, Keevan saw a massive black line marking the space between the Etrendi and his targets, as if clearing an electrical path for the oncoming assault. If flew six feet before slamming into Bahjal's field, effectively pitting the Harbor Master's fears against Bahjal's momentary feelings of security. Keevan held her tightly in his arms and watched on bated breath.

  Just as quickly as they struck, the elements dissipated. The lightning, hungry for an easy mark, slid across Bahjal's field and into the ground at their feet, covering the bowl around them in a wide scorch mark. It left a black gouge in the stone, a perfect semi-circle where Bahjal's field turned the assault aside.

  "By Suada's mercy," Lanasha murmured. There was no victory in her eyes, only a dark cloud of shock and worry. "You two could have killed him if you so choose."

  Derone stared at the couple, dumbfounded, muttering to himself. "No, no, no. It's not possible. It can't be."

  "Harbor Master," the High Priestess ordered, standing up. Water rushed over her, drawn in by the shear strength of her field. The liquid ran down every strand and fiber of her exterior, raising her hair and linen loops high into the air. "You have attempted to assassinate a valuable member of Etrendi society. For that, you will be tried by the Council of Issamere. Guards!"

  The doors burst open, ushering in a wave of anxious attendants and somber body guards. The Harbor Guild's men paused, their faces turning pale, when they saw Lanasha in all her Suadan glory. "What would you have of us, my lady?" one asked.

  "Escort the Harbor Master to a repulsor cell. We've an intruder to locate before the Council can deal with Derone," Lanasha ordered. Waving over two of her personal guards, whips at the ready, she pointed to Keevan and Bahjal. "Take these two to the guild's guest quarters. The reinforced ones. No harm is to come to them, am I clear? We'll attend to Keevan's... position here, once the traitors are dealt with."

  "Indeed, my Lady," they replied in unison, bowing deeply. They held a coiled whip in either hand, glistening with pressurized water, contained in each small flicker of Danica sewn into the leather. Bahjal stiffened, pursing her lips nervously and taking Keevan's hand.

  A sinking relief settled over Keevan. Lanasha accused the harbor master of trying to kill Bahjal, because of her Etrendi birth. That crime held much more severe punishments than harming an Outlander. Technically, there weren't any consequences for killing Outlanders, though contradicting the Malik's decision to let Keevan live might be thinly construed as treason. Very thinly.

  Again, as always, he felt like an outsider looking in on Tri-Being society. They'd never truly accept him as one of their own. They'd always look on him with fear like the Harbor Guild, or greed like Zerik, hoping to use him for some plan or another. There were so few people here in Issamere who genuinely cared for him. He squeezed Bahjal's hand, for her presence both saved his life and condemned the Harbor Master by Issamere's own laws.

  Suddenly a boy no younger than Keevan pushed his way through the crowd. His shoes crackled with static electricity and his eyes flickered from one face to the next in an impossibly quick search for the recipient of his message, a Runner for the Harbor Guild.

  "Harbor Master!" the boy cried. "I've urgent news from the-"

  "Honestly!" Lanasha cut in. "I'm in the middle of arresting the Harbor Master. What more could have happened that requires my immediate attention?!"

  "The prisoner has escaped," the runner echoed numbly, visibly shrinking in size as he took in the room's occupants. With each syllable however, the color drained from the Harbor Master's face. "One of his guards is dead, the other is recovering at the Suadan Temple. The prisoner was likely wounded by a lightning bolt and left a message for the Harbor Master."

  "Which is?" Lanasha asked tentatively.

  "I will remember my treatment here," the runner echoed, staring up at the ceiling as he recited his message. "I will come for you to return the favor. Then I will come for the Sight Seeker."

  A chill skittered down Keevan's spine. Sparks of lighting flickered around Derone's hair as he sat down, visibly struck by the news. His aids and Lanasha however, stared at him in confusion. Lighting and fear were equally public in Tri-Being society, and very hard to hide. Whoever this “Prisoner” was, if his mere words could affect Derone so heavily, a man who captained fleets of Tri-Being ships, then Keevan had a serious new enemy, one he didn't know at all.

  "I will say nothing," Derone grunted, flashing a mischievous smile. "Until I am found innocent by the Council, I have no authority to act anyway. You will all get what's coming to you. The prisoner will see to that."

  "Guards, you have your orders," Lanasha replied, thin lipped as she contained her own frustrations. The water around her head gave off a thin layer of steam. In moments, two burly Suadan guards were hauling Keevan and Bahjal through the crowd. Derone followed along behind them, until they reached the street.

  "Who is this prisoner the Runner spoke of?" Keevan asked as they squeezed through the doors.

  Derone laughed, a dark, sadistic sound. "Not who, little Sight Seeker. What." Then his own guards dragged him away, la
ughing as he went.

  "This way you two," the Suadan guards offered, leading them back into the tangle of stairs and stone they'd emerged from only an hour ago. "The guest room is just two floors above us."

  "What did Lanasha mean when she asked for the 'reinforced' room?" Keevan asked.

  The guards hesitated, ever so slightly, but Keevan caught it. Again, he saw the anxiety mount in Bahjal as well. Or, to be more specific, he saw static electricity build up around her. He took an extra wide step or two away from her, to avoid getting hit by an accidental discharge.

  "It's a more secure wing of the guest house. If the Harbor Master wants you dead, there might be others. This one is still comfortable, but shielded by repulsor Danica. You'll be safe there until the High Priestess can return," the lead guard offered, guiding them up another flight of well-tended stone steps. Colorful tapestries lined the wall, depicting famous ocean battles or successful salvages of Outlander vessels.

  The images, like the Outlander classes taught in Tri-Being school, set Keevan's teeth on edge. He couldn't help but feel a kinship with the race responsible for his birth, yet everything he had, even his life, he owed to the Tri-Beings. A part of him desperately wanted to see another Outlander however, to learn of their ways, perhaps even meet his birth parents.

  Yet, as his occasional nightmares on the subject proved, such an encounter would require choosing between the life he was denied among his kind and the life he now had among the Tri-Beings. Which would he choose, if the chance arose? A sickening, intoxicating thought assailed him, something in the Derone's eyes when he heard of the Prisoner's escape. Keevan couldn't shake the feeling, if his suspicions were right, that he might reach that moment sooner than he could have ever hoped.

  Chapter 20

  They reached the guest room, and Keevan's heartbeat doubled. Now he understood Bahjal's anxiety, though only his elemental vision could reveal the reason. The doors were lined with repulsor orbs. Within two feet of each stone, no Tri-Being fields existed, even when the guards stood right next to the doors, and their command of water was very near to Bahjal's in raw power.