Unseen Secrets

by S. B. Sebrick

  A steel throne sat before a toppled wooden table, the Watcher's partially eaten meal scattered across the floor. The Watcher stirred, and Kors stared in disbelief, his mind struggling to put together the implications. The Watcher's many wounds were superficial, every limb deeply gashed but every major organ avoided. The Varadour didn't kill him, why?

  With a roar of frustration, Kors hurled himself into the throne and faced the soldiers. The answer had to be here, in this very seat. This was where the Watcher patrolled the catacombs. The spearmen were closer now, their Danica spears cutting through his steam wall, only a dozen feet away. Soon, they'd see him and finish him off.

  There, a depression in the armrests of the throne. He set the bracers in their slots and released a gasp of shock. He felt his will stretch out along the entire catacombs of Issamere, miles and miles of subterranean territory. So, Issamere sat upon a huge supply of Danica. That was the Watcher's secret. Here, the Watcher could magnify his senses and his elemental Commands down beneath the city, dispatching floods and infernos at will.

  The soldiers were almost upon him now. Kors could see rage and fear in their faces as they cut the last of his steam away. An idea tickled at Kors' senses and he laughed, perhaps he'd spent too much time with the Sight Seeker, he was starting to see everything backwards. The bellowing sound startled the spearmen, who took a cautious step back, eyeing him warily.

  "Fools," Kors muttered. "There went your chance at defeating me."

  He reached down into the bowels of the city, his enhanced will taking hold of every flicker of heat and drop of moisture he could find in those stony crevices. There wasn't much, but there was miles and miles of 'not much.' He drew every last drop of element up into his bracers and felt a cascade effect building in the city beneath him as a typhoon of force erupted from the bracers.

  Perhaps it was the immense amount of water he commanded, enhancing his focus. Perhaps it was the river of hate pushing his fire outwards from the throne. But he saw the proceedings in slow motion. The throne and the floor around it glowed with raw heat, the floor drains around the chamber erupting like a steam volcano.

  The Suadan's rushed to each other's side, struggling against his command of water in a vain effort to protect themselves. Three of the spearmen followed suit, falling back and putting their spears to the earth in an attempt to keep back the heat now surrounding the throne in billowing steam yet again. The Watcher crawled to the rear of the room, pulling on some kind of lever hidden in the wall.

  The fourth spearman, Kors almost didn't see in time. He spat in disgust and hurled his spear at the throne. The weapon cut through water and steam, Kors' very command, with ease. The spearman's aim was dead on, forcing Kors to detach his fire bracer and slap it aside with that arm, like a insignificant bug for the swatting. For a precious, oddly quiet moment, he realized his mistake.

  The Danica spearhead collided with his fire bracer, their opposing elemental flows rejecting each other in a flash. The chamber turned stark white from the explosion, its force plastering Kors against the throne in a massive wave of heat and pain.

  Chapter 27

  A heavy roar ripped through the building, carried on a shockwave of air so intense it threw Keevan to the ground. Warm steam washed over them, contrasting sharply with the cold, unyielding ground now grinding against Keevan's shoulders. He winced, accepting another bruise to suffer through in the week to come.

  "I've had enough of this," Madol growled, struggling to his feet. "I’m finishing Kors. You two stay out of this."

  "You need us," Bahjal insisted, rising shakily to her feet. "Who knows what weapons Kors has now, but if they were the Watcher's, then Keevan can beat them a second time."

  "Him, alright, but I need you because...?" Madol grumbled, letting the question hang freely.

  "I know her better than anyone else," Keevan answered. "I can adjust her emotions far easier than I can yours. Plus, Kors is a Suadan. So is she. You'll need her to even the odds."

  Madol shook his head and laughed. "Fine. What a motley crew. A Persuader, a pretend Rhetan and a powerless Sight Seeker. Fine, if you can keep up, then do so," Madol sprinted down the hall. A few guards staggered to their feet, but the Persuader passed them by.

  "Glad we spent all those afternoons running up the District stairs now, aren't you?" Bahjal insisted with a light hearted giggle. "Let's go."

  Keevan groaned, but he picked up the pace at the rear. Ignoring the need for secrecy, he turned to the elemental plane, watching fire build up in Madol and Bahjal as their bodies drew on the surrounding elements to aid in their pursuit. Meanwhile, he chugged along behind them, fighting a stitch in his side.

  They sprinted up two flights of stairs and around a couple tight corners until they reached a narrow hallway. The curtains on the left side were open now, flooding the hall with fading sun light. A dozen guards lay strewn across the floor, a few lying against the door jamb of the chamber ahead. Judging by the deep scoring marks in the floor, they slid at least fifteen feet before sliding to an unforgiving stop. Some were breathing, gathering water around their many wounds, others were not.

  Keevan's hands shook with nervous fatigue. This wasn't his fault, not exactly. Corvan wasn’t the kind of person Keevan could have stopped in any case. Plus, the dead among the soldiers were likely Kors' handiwork. The exile didn't mind getting blood on his hands. Keevan took care to scan over each person, fighting mixtures of relief and worry when he didn't see Corvan among them.

  Madol charged on into the hall, ignoring the wounded. Bahjal and Keevan followed. The Throne lay in pieces, a hole of broken stone lay gapping open at the top of the raised platform where the Watcher once sat. On the rear wall, a chunk of rock lay agape, pieces of metal sticking out of it and its original place in the wall.

  "This looks like a secret passage," Bahjal said, when they paused at the base of the long, dark stair. "Want to bet that's the Watcher's body a few feet up there?"

  "It's not Kors'," Keevan answered, his gaze piercing the dark. The cloudy figure was weak, battered and unconscious, but alive. He glanced around, trying to take in every detail as quickly as possible. "What's that?"

  Madol turned, following Keevan's gaze. Another cloudy object glowed to Keevan's eyes, but it lay pinned under a battered wooden table. It was too small to be a Tri-Being, except an infant perhaps, which didn't make any sense at all.

  They turned the table aside and Keevan fought the urge to retch. A bloody, seared hand lay there on the ground, shorn at the wrist by a smoking, blackened husk of twisted Danica. The device was shattered beyond use, with metal fragments scattered around the chamber like little stars, now that Keevan took the time to see them. They all glowed red with latent, fading heat.

  "The Watcher strikes with floods and flame," Bahjal echoed, handling the severed limb and broken bracer with care. "I assume this was the flame part."

  "That means Kors still has a powerful water bracer, his specialty. Blasted Suadan. Wonderful," Madol groaned, considering his sword uneasily. "Touch it the wrong way with a Danica weapon and boom. You suppose that hand is Kors, Keevan?"

  "I... think so," Keevan echoed, leaning over Bahjal's shoulder and plugging his nose. The limb smoked like an over-roasted ham. "He's probably the largest Tri-Being here and that's a big hand. Do you think he's still alive?"

  "Only a water Etrendi could stay conscious after a blast like that," Madol decided, glancing at the staircase warily. "With the Watcher's bracer, he can probably staunch the bleeding. Any idea where this goes? Aside from up?"

  "Where would the Watcher need to get to in a hurry?" Bahjal asked. "I doubt Kors new about the secret passage. The Watcher must have went for it when trying to escape.

  "How should I know? I'm not a Harbor Guildsman," Madol said. "They're a crafty bunch and I’m not leading you three up there until I'm sure he can't just send a flood down on top of us. Are any of these guards conscious?"

  "Wait, this passage and the Danica bracer are very old
. As in, before the Crippling, old," Keevan said, examining the metal works once responsible for holding the secret passage together. "If the Watcher was charged with protecting the city in times of war with Danica weapons, and from here he could prevent an invasion by land, it follows that-"

  "The passage leads straight up to the second Suadan Temple, to defend the Harbor as well," Bahjal finished, pointing above them and westwards. "If Kors somehow destroys it, Issamere will be vulnerable to storm or a naval invasion."

  "I don't know if the Harbor Guild would overlook a barbarian navy sailing our way," Madol mused, scratching the back of his head in frustration. "Alright, we go after him. At the least, the Danica crystal in that Temple shields half the population from extreme elements. We can't risk leaving the city vulnerable to purpose fever in the next storm."

  "Monsoon season," Bahjal murmured, numb with shock. "Without the Temple's protection, half the city will be unprotected from the downpour. Purpose fever on every corner. Young, untrained Etrendis going insane. Thousands could die. We have to stop him."

  "Keevan, I need you to lead the way," Madol ordered.

  "Excuse me?" Keevan asked, waving his hands defensively. "I'm not a fighter."

  "Not only can you track him, but if he sends elements at us, you'll see them coming. I don't want my field in between you and Kors, you might get them confused. Just stand back when something's coming and tell me what it is so I can counter it. Understood?"

  "Yes, sir," Keevan gulped, staring into the darkness ahead. Aside from the unconscious Watcher's cocoon of water, and moisture clinging to the stone, no other elements were in sight. "This way."

  They scrambled up the dark passage. The air was moist and smoky, generations of mold and insects still smoldering along the walls from the blast. Now the walls and steps were slick with moisture, left behind from Kors' advance. Keevan shuddered, both from the cold and the impending conflict. The Watcher's Danica was still powerful, just not cataclysmic, and Kors knew water very well. He glanced back at Madol's Danica fused armor and Bahjal's scared limbs. They would need his help alright.

  Keevan's glowing eyes filled every crevice ahead of him, but didn't offer much help to anyone following behind. Madol and Bahjal's both extended a free hand into the darkness, drawing a warm glow and orange flames from their hands to light the way. They passed two doorways as they traversed the winding stair, but the thick coating of moisture lead ever upwards. You couldn't command such an immense amount of water without leaving some trail behind. Keevan led them further up the dark, silent stairs.

  "How high do these things go?" Bahjal muttered, rubbing her wounded leg as they passed yet another door.

  "All the way to the top, I’m assuming," Madol grunted. "Faster Keevan, we don't have much time."

  "Yes, sir," Keevan said, pushing his legs to pump just a little faster. He gulped down air in greedy breaths now, a stitch forming in his side with burning pain in his legs from the constant exertion.

  "We'll have to get you into better shape after this," Madol decided, following closely. He didn't show much fatigue in his face or voice and much to Keevan's surprise, he wasn’t drawing on the elements as Bahjal did. Her legs glowed orange now with a gentle heat, urging her muscles to keep going.

  "I hardly think a little exercise will make me equal to a Tri-Being," Keevan said, his words choppy as he tried to suck air in and speak simultaneously.

  "It's all about motivation," Madol said, drawing his weapon. "If you were running for your life, you'd be moving faster. The thing is, we're running to save many lives, possibly your parents. Masha's a Suadan, she'd be especially susceptible to purpose fever. Faster, Keevan."

  That realization took Keevan by surprise, but the truth of Madol's words sunk deep. This Zerik was willing to plunge the city into chaos to undermine the Malik's rule. Who's to say Keevan's parents wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire? The Suadan tower's elemental reach protected the city's inhabitants from excess moisture, to which, Suadans like Masha would be vulnerable. Keevan gritted his teeth and urge more effort from his tired legs.

  A few minutes later, they reached the end of the stairs, and a final door. The stone here was perfectly dry, without a drop of moisture and the glowing embers of heat remaining in the metal hinges and lock told the tale well. Keevan leaned against the far wall, clutching his sides as he sucked in air.

  "Kors melted the door closed. It must have cost him a few minutes at least, he doesn't have the Watcher's fire bracer," Keevan reported. Madol walked straight up to the door and examined the melted metal in the light of his own hand. The hinges protruding from the door frame were a twisted nightmare no blacksmith could ever separate. The lock was in similar condition.

  "Why would he be that angry?" Bahjal asked, sitting on the top step, resting her hands on her knees. "He's broken the Watcher. He should be excited."

  "Plus the Varadour's probably still with him," Madol grunted, fumbling from something in his belt pouch. "The odds are still in their favor."

  "Actually, no," Keevan offered, raising a finger in caution. He felt like his legs were made of melted rubber, but the stitch in his side was fading. "Corvan said he would only help with the Watcher. He isn't part of Kors' cause, he was just settling a debt. Corvan is long gone by now."

  "A deserted ally could cause enough anger to do this," Madol agreed grimly, pulling a strand of wire from his pouch. "The sight of good men dead at the hands of an Etrendi is enough for me."

  Madol looped the wire over the hinges, its metal fibers flaring white with sudden heat. In a single, smooth stroke, he cut through the hinge, moving on to the bottom one. With only the misshapen lock holding the door closed, Madol's body flashed in a burst of red as he kicked forwards. The old door creaked and splintered under the blow, snapping outwards.

  "That's was... impressive," Bahjal said, mouth agape. "What do they feed you Persuaders?"

  "Loyalty. Now, let's go," Madol ordered, hurrying out into the sun's fading light. "There isn't much time."

  "Could I see that again, sometime?" Keevan asked, following after him. "It was too quick. I couldn't tell where all that element came from."

  "We all have our secrets," Madol grinned, glancing over his shoulder at Keevan. "Just admit it, not being able to see one right away is really going to eat at you."

  Keevan laughed. "We haven't even fought Kors yet. I'll still get to see you in action."

  "Speaking of Kors," Bahjal said, pointing towards the ocean. "I found him."

  There, in a trail of moisture from one roof top to the next, Keevan saw Kors' path to the Suadan Temple. Its weeping walls gave the building a glossy sheen against the golden sunlight. A winding stair of concrete and stone connected various rooftops, none of which had doors like the Temple they just left. It was an effective means of getting the Watcher to the Temple, if needed for defense or to adjust the Danica crystal's hold on the atmosphere. The building stood over the southern portion of the harbor, a sentinel for the city against both the sea's elements and naval assaults.

  The Suadan Temple spiraled up another three stories above them, the water-manipulated image of Suada standing stop it, facing the sea. She wore a dress similar to Bahjal's Suadan attire, with dozens of loops of water floating around her. The Danica running through the temple cast a field wide enough to shelter the city from the impending monsoons of the summer months. On a dry morning like this one, it would be drawing in additional moisture from the sea. But now, that very field was fluctuating, narrowing, reaching out towards the ocean and abandoning the city altogether.

  "Kors is manipulating the Danica field," Keevan reported grimly, "It must be the Watcher's Danica bracer, but I've never heard of something that could manipulate the crystal's field like this. The Bracer is from the Age of Tears, isn't it? Only our ancestors had weapons like that."

  "Whoever is giving Kors his orders is very well informed. It's a trick from the Age of Tears," Madol agreed, barring his teeth like a pit bull as he raced across
the first concrete bridge. "Pay attention to that field Keevan, Bahjal and I may need to neutralize it."

  "It's far too big for that," Keevan insisted, trying his best to ignore the hundred-foot-drop to the alleys below as they traversed the first bridge. At the top of the Temple, he saw the field tighten and focus into a bright beacon of water energy, attesting to an immense amount of force being applied. "This thing's field is dipping into the ocean as we speak, at least a couple hundred yards. Your field extends two dozen feet, if that. We have to face Kors. I think he's at the top of the Temple, I can see his field interacting with the Temple's."

  "On it," Madol agreed, navigating the concrete path with the agility of a cat. He was soon paces ahead of Keevan with Bahjal hot on his heels. Elements flared around her body as she leapt from one corner to the next. Lighting flashed around her limbs as she sprinted, manifesting her fear, but also adding to her agility.

  They reached the middle of the Temple, where the path circled upwards, beaten by the winds of the sea. Only a narrow rod of iron protruding from the wall gave them any source of support. The field reaching into the sea suddenly convulsed, pulling barrels and barrels worth of sea water up to the top of the Temple, like some bizarre, reverse waterfall.

  "What's he doing?" Bahjal cried, catching the guard rail in the wall against a sudden gust of wind.

  The building around them swayed out toward sea, just a few feet, but they could feel the trembling stone beneath them. Cold realization chilled Keevan to the bone.

  "He's trying to bring the Temple down," Madol cried, pulling out his sword. "We're close, go!"

  "Try to be bored!" Keevan cried. "It's the only way to counter the purpose driving his water control."

  "To Raejin's dung with boredom!" Madol spat back. "Are you anything but bored right now? I've got another idea."

  Keevan watched the heat within Madol's field gather around the sword, feeding its Danica core as the blade flared to life, burning with white heat. A glow surrounded him Keevan couldn't place. Its hold on the surrounding elements was similar to a Tri-Being field, but sharp and fierce like Danica.