Unseen Secrets

by S. B. Sebrick

  One of the King’s Persuaders, a man directly under the Malik’s authority to judge and kill as needed, no questions asked. In this case, an Etrendi so confident in his mastery of lightning, he wore armor to attract it. Dread and curiosity wailed at Keevan with such force he couldn’t resist using his elemental vision. Blue light flooded the path between them as the Sight Seeker examined the Persuader in a new light.

  All three elements coiled around the Etrendi’s cloud-like limbs, like a whip anxious to snap free. Even the heat and water yards away swirled around the Tri-Being, as if anxious to heed his call to arms. A distant part of Keevan’s mind, the portion not primarily concerned with avoiding a pants-wetting episode, marveled at the comparison between this man and Calistra’s body guard. Sure the burly Tri-Being was large like an anvil, but this Persuader was a crossbow quarrel, designed to punch through armor, bone and heart alike in a single blow.

  “I am Madol Somner. Sworn of Issamere to defend and destroy," The Persuader growled, examining them both like a hawk inspecting wounded rabbits. “You are carrying stolen property of the House Arnadi. Explain yourselves. Now."

  Chapter 6

  “We thought it escaped somehow. We didn’t know it was stolen. Honest!” Keevan said emphatically. "Wasn't there a reward for it?"

  “Yes. You had enough foresight to catch the thing," Madol pointed out, sheathing his swords. “Most of the townspeople barely managed to catch sight of it. Yet, you, with no elemental power managed to catch it single-handedly. How do we know this wasn't a setup to relieve the Arnadi family of some gold?”

  “It is suspicious, sir," one of the soldiers agreed, a tall man who looked as if he’d eaten something sour. “The Sight Seeker can't even create frost. There's no way he succeeded where half the city failed. This has to be a setup."

  “Or the Rhet here did most of the work," Madol cut in, pointing back towards the Etrendi District. “Take the creature back to Master Arnadi before it wakes. I’ll have a talk with these two. The rest of you, look for anything the thieves may have left behind on their way out of the gardens. They definitely skirted this part of the wall to escape."

  Two black-clad soldiers carefully carted the Pagoda away. The remaining four sheathed their weapons and patrolled the area, checking the dark corners of the garden and tapping paving stones tentatively. Keevan noticed they also managed to stay within earshot of Keevan and Bahjal, curious glances peeking out from under their helms.

  “You, Rhetan, you can go," Madol said with a dismissive wave. A few of the soldiers overheard him, flashing approving looks as they worked along the garden's exterior.

  “Her name is Bahjal," Keevan said indignantly. “I couldn’t have pulled this off without her," Bahjal rolled her eyes and shot Keevan an imploring look that distinctly said, ‘Shut your trap, now’.

  Madol turned on Keevan as well, narrowing his gaze. His fingers glowed red-hot as he put his hand in front of the Sight Seeker’s face. Keevan gulped, but maintained eye contact with those dark, piercing eyes, mostly because at the time, his legs were refusing all his orders. Even those to stand erect were iffy at best, his legs felt like melting wax.

  “I could brand your face like a cow, sight seeker," The Persuader hissed. The radiating heat from Madol's hand sent a few strands of Keevan's hair up in quick flickers of flame. Beads of sweat formed on Keevan's brow. “I know enough about outlanders to know you don’t heal well. I’d wager if I so desired, you’d wear my handprint on your face for the rest of your life."

  The general mutiny in Keevan’s limbs spread to his tongue. For some reason, only his eyes obeyed. Keevan embraced his elemental vision. Madol’s terrifying expression faded into a white cloud, wreathed in pulsing red energy. At the core of his cloud though, buried in red heat, only lightning and water crackled and hissed.

  “Impressive," Keevan said evenly. “Fire isn’t even your strongest element, and you could set fire to something easily. Are you of the fire Temple too? You've got enough strength in water to be a Suadan as well. Are you a follower of Belenok?”

  Bahjal’s sharp intake of breath scared Keevan more than Madol’s impassive body language. “I-I’m sorry, sir," she said quickly, her tone like her escape tactics, light and quick. “H-he forgets our customs sometimes. That was very inappropriate, Keevan."

  “I told you, Rhetan. I will not give the same order twice." He glared at Bahjal. “If I promise to return Keevan to his parents unharmed, will you leave us in peace?”

  Bahjal gulped helplessly, glancing at Keevan with a shrug. “If you can’t trust the word of a Persuader, who can you trust?”

  “Indeed. Run along. Now," Madol growled. A few of the guards snickered softly, muttering something about the rats of Issamere being so quick to flee.

  Bahjal nodded, her face reddening in embarrassment, before scampering into the garden's shadows. About fifty yards down the trail though, Keevan caught a glimpse of his friend slipping behind a distant hedge. A small flicker of relief accompanied the uncertainty in his heart. At least if something went wrong—well, Bahjal wasn’t a match for Madol, but she could take word of foul play to Keevan’s parents.

  "Walk with me." Madol ordered, setting out past the fountain. Keevan hesitated a moment, then followed. In a few quiet minutes, they left the soldiers behind. The Persuader relaxed, his hands cooling back to their tan and weathered selves. Soon, they reached the line of benches overlooking Issamere, where Keevan and Bahjal hatched their plan earlier that day.

  “Interesting friendship you have there," Madol said, walking out towards the cliff’s edge of the garden. "Please pass on my apologies for dismissing her so. I have to maintain a certain persona when I work with the soldiers, or their respect wears thin. They think like Etrendi, which means anyone of a lower class isn't worth their time. Keep that girl close, boy. I get the feeling there's more to her than she lets on."

  “Thank you, sir," Keevan said uncertainly.

  A few quiet moments passed. Dragon flies skirted by, racing against the dark to find their homes. At the moment, Keevan longed for the safety of his own. Sure, the streets of Issamere weren’t too rough during the day, but when the shadows fell—even the Rhetans were a dangerous force, in their own way. Madol reached the edge of the cliff, looking out over the hundred torches lighting the Haldran and Rhetan Districts below them. Madol simply sat there, looking out over the city, waiting.

  "The Etrendi are strong, but in their strength they forget where true power comes from," Madol said, to no one in particular. "True power comes from the mind, for if you see or anticipate what others can't, you've already won. I read it in a book once, and promised myself if I ever met you, I'd mention it."

  “I'll keep that in mind." Keevan said cautiously, shivering. He was still dripping from the moisture of the steam fountain, and here on the cliff's edge, the wind rose quickly to prod at him with its frigid fingers. "Why would you want to help me?"

  Madol smiled. "Let's just say I've a sore spot for those the Etrendi see as powerless. After all, by rights, Haldrans shouldn't be Persuaders, but I found a way. You can, too, if you keep your mind sharp and your wits about you."

  Keevan thought on those words a moment. Madol's elemental commands were easily on par with an Etrendi, so clearly there was more to Madol's story. Thanks to Bahjal's advice however, Keevan decided not to prod that subject any further. Another question popped into his mind. “Sir, what did you mean about Bahjal being interesting?”

  “Your friendship, not the Rhetan," Madol corrected him, pulling one sword free. He tapped on the other half of the bench, his blade ringing from the contact. “Have a seat. I’ll not talk to you like a servant waiting on my every need."

  “Yes, sir," Keevan obeyed, taking a seat on the cold stone bench. It didn't feel more comfortable to Keevan, as if he were on trial and Madol were his judge. Still, it was a relief to know his wobbly legs couldn’t betray him anymore. His fears were giving way to curiosity now. “Our friendship?”

  �
��I’m afraid I owe you an apology," Madol said with a wry grin, in contrast to his initial predatory glare. “It’s not often I get to scare the pee out of some youth, but you and the Rhetan surprised me. Most people your age, when they face me, cower or try to blame their friends for their misdeeds. You two on the other hand, stood up for each other, only talking back when I threatened one of you. That’s a rare thing these days. I hope you know that. Not many Rhets are stupid enough to trail a Persuader."

  “You noticed," Keevan said with an innocent shrug. “She’s my best friend."

  “You are a Haldran, Mid-born. Why keep a Rhetan on hand?” Madol pulled a whet stone from his pocket and spit on it. He carefully eyed his blade and sharpened it with a hollow shriek of metal on stone.

  “Most Haldrans spend so much time crafting, they don’t have many friends. Much less ones willing to get hurt protecting you," Keevan observed, leaning forwards, hands gripping the sides of the bench. “My father spends all day at the forges. He used to oversee mining operations but now he’s just a blacksmith. He enjoys it, but it’s just the same work day in and day out. Project after project."

  “Now we’re talking about the Rankings, huh?” Madol asked with a wise nod. “You’re about that age. I overheard some Etrendi discussing the Council's decision on the subject. Not exactly fair, ranking an Outlander as if he were a Tri-Being. Perhaps they'd just let you take a place at your father's smithy?"

  Keevan sighed, shaking his head. He pursed his lips in thought. The Council wanted to brand him as something below a lowborn and stuff him in a corner to rot. They wouldn’t grant him a title like 'apprentice artisan' unless he could elementally perform. He didn't feel comfortable telling Madol about the Danica trick they'd discovered that morning. Finally he admitted, “It’s not like I can keep up with Nariem, no matter how much I train. He commands water and fire very well, for a Haldran. I can’t."

  “You associate with the Rhetans because you feel a kinship to them," Madol said, it was a statement, not a question. Keevan shot him a nervous look, suddenly feeling exposed. He tried to remember this man dealt with Etrendi and criminals alike on a daily basis. Clearly he read people as well as he commanded fire.

  “Doesn’t feel too good when someone sees your center, does it? I don’t need Sight Seeker vision to see into a person’s heart. That’s what makes me good at my job," Madol offered, sheathing his weapon. “You get a feel for people, their motivations and what they’re willing to do to get what they want."

  “You’re a walking elemental arsenal," Keevan said in disbelief, shivering again. He switched reflexively back to his elemental vision, bathing Madol in blue light. “You expect me to believe you don’t use it at all."

  “I wasn’t always a Persuader," Madol said, raising a cautionary finger. “I had to put away a lot of bad people before the Malik awarded me this honor. It was just me, my wits and a list of crimes to start from."

  “So, what’s your point?” Keevan asked, the evening cold was finally setting around them. Well, around his right side. Enough heat radiated from Madol to warm an entire room, and Keevan’s left. It felt like sitting alongside a bon fire.

  Had the Persuader noticed Keevan shivering as well? It wasn't a Tri-Being trait, they just frosted. Granted, low temperatures also turned their minds to their most sorrowful experiences. Perhaps Madol wasn't trying to dispel the cold around Keevan, but the sadness in his own heart that the night's chill brought to mind.

  “I will speak to your parents about it tonight, but I’d like to borrow those eyes of yours. I think you may see something I’ve missed," Madol said, flashing Keevan a warm smile. “Interested? It would give you another day to avoid the Rankings, at the very least. Consider it a trade."

  “Is this about House Arnadi?”

  “Yes," Madol said, his voice suddenly thick and serious. He glared at Keevan, eyes literally glowing with red heat. “But whatever we discuss will be in the strictest confidence. Do you understand? You will discuss my investigations with no one else."

  Keevan gulped nervously, his imagination writing a dozen very painful scenarios in which Madol could take his revenge. “Understood," he muttered. “I promise."

  “Very well," Madol said, getting to his feet. “Let’s get you home before Bahjal freezes her fingers off in that bush over there."

  Chapter 7

  Night’s dark embrace settled heavily over the street when Madol and Keevan finally arrived. Keevan’s home was a two story brick house with wooden shingles, next to his father’s modest stone forge. The fires within still burned, casting red and orange hues across the paving stones. A thin trail of grey smoke wafted up from the chimney.

  “Nariem is working late I see," Madol said offhandedly.

  “You know my parents?” Keevan asked.

  “Not personally. They’re raising the only Sight Seeker in Hiertalia. Of course I’ve heard of them," Madol chuckled, rapping on the door.

  “Keevan Stratagar!” An angry female voice crackled, Masha, his mother. Her frustrated tone sent a shudder of guilt up his spine. At least this time she hadn’t called out the city guards. “You’re two hours late! Get in here and get to work on your studies, now!”

  Madol caught Keevan’s hand, pushing it away from the doorknob. “Studies, huh? Is that your mother’s input on the Rankings? If you're smart enough the Council will want to keep you around?”

  Keevan grimaced, not enjoying this man’s insistence on bringing up Keevan's greatest problems at the slightest provocation. “Yes. Father wants me to work eighteen hours a day to hold my own as an artisan of... whatever I can manage. Mother insists I could rank as a scribe or an accountant of the family records, something with endless books and numbers."

  “A wise choice," Madol offered evenly. “Important, though it’s also—what’s the word?”

  “Boring."

  “Ah, well, let me help with that for tonight at least," he chuckled, knocking a second time. “I like making a good first impression."

  “Yeah. You’re good at those," Keevan echoed nervously.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were my son," Masha said, her apologetic tones muffled through the door’s thick planks. She turned the knob, pulled the door open, and then froze. She stared at Madol, mouth slightly ajar. Little bits of dough clung to her arms and apron, her thin brown hair tied behind her head in a ponytail. Keevan smelled her hickory smoked dumplings in the kitchen, his stomach rumbling verbally.

  “Suada, Goddess preserve us," Masha said breathlessly, holding the door open and taking a step back. “Come in officer. Is my boy in some kind of trouble?”

  “Not in the traditional sense," Madol said gruffly, his warm exterior gone in a flash of predatory command. He marched into the guest room as if a dozen soldiers followed in his wake, even though only Keevan did, feeling small, dirty and confused. “I am Persuader Madol. You heard of the robbery, I assume? You’re still Etrendi born, after all, with some influence among the Suadans."

  “My family has decided I’m to enjoy the same honorable status as my husband," Masha explained, back straight, hands on her hips. “But I do manage to stay informed. Their vault was emptied and their pet Pagoda set loose as a distraction I believe."

  “All true," Madol agreed with a curt nod. Keevan felt his stomach sink into the vicinity of his knees. So that was why Madol was so quick to 'arrest' them on sight. He thought the thieves were trying to cash in on the Pagoda reward, as well as whatever else was stolen. “What you don't know is that Keevan and his Rhetan friend caught the Pagoda, up at the steam gardens."

  “They—caught it?” Masha echoed, staring at Keevan from head to toe. Between his torn clothes, scratches and smeared dirt from the thick steam of the gardens, he felt very dirty and out of place. With a gulp, Masha returned to attentions to Madol. “So now you’re faced with two options."

  “Either he’s very smart, or he was in on it," Madol said seriously. “I wanted to bring this to you personally, to find some easier alt
ernative than those the courts might offer."

  “Yes, of course," Masha agreed, nodding emphatically. “Keevan, wait in your room please. I need to talk this over with Persuader Madol."

  “Yes, Mom," Keevan said hastily, hurrying around the corner towards the wash room. “I’ll wash up first."

  “Do that," Masha said. Once out of sight, Keevan paused, listening intently.

  “Keevan," Madol growled dangerously.

  “Yes, sir!” Keevan squeaked, hurrying into the wash room. He’d pressed his luck enough for one evening, first with a lighting lizard and now with a Persuader. Best to call it a night. How the Persuader's senses were so sharp was another mystery Keevan would have to leave for another time.

  As he pumped the well water into the basin and plugged it, his thoughts flickered back to his conversation with Madol. The image of the Persuader emerging from the shadows, dual swords drawn, sent shivers down his spine. He put his arms in the cold water and scrubbed his skin with a bar of soap until bubbles boiled in the basin.

  The memory of Calistra in her fire worshiping silks sauntered through his mind next. Now there was a different kind of shiver all together, warm and exciting. She’d practically invited him to her house and technically he helped catch the Pagoda. Perhaps he’d meet her again?

  It wasn’t just about her silken curves and painted lips. He recalled what he’d seen in her through his elemental vision. Every step, every gesture she gave, was done in practiced calm and total control. Tri-Beings didn’t do that unless they had something to hide. Or something they desperately needed.

  Keevan smiled, despite the ominous truths of the coming Rankings. He pictured her flirtatious wink farewell. Now, there was a mystery worth solving.

  Chapter 8

  Keevan lay in his bed, physically exhausted, but his mind too full of questions for sleep. A few minutes after he’d cleaned up, Nariem arrived from his smithy next door. Then Madol continued a long conversation with both his parents. Any other day, he might have tried to eavesdrop again, but Madol’s whip-like order left little to the imagination of how he’d respond if he caught Keevan listening in a second time.