Splintered Loyalties, Page 4

  "Are you sure this is safe?" Keevan asked, lowering himself down the ladder one step at a time. "The Masters at the Persuader Academy are all talking about the Malik's decree to watch the entrances and patrol the catacombs. I heard rumors of Rhetan gangs down here too. Sound carries pretty well in the tunnel. We're not going to be alone for long."

  "Look around, boy," Madol chuckled from somewhere to Keevan's left, a heavy, grating sound, like wood rasping against stone. "Use your gift. You're safe here. See for yourself."

  With a grunt of relent, Keevan drew on his elemental vision. Blue light burst from his eyes, illuminating the dark cavern he hung in. Nariem and Madol stood next to some recently polished weights, training weapons lying side by side on a table, and stuffed targets one would find at the Persuader Academy. The cavern stood twice the height of Madol, was four yards wide and extended another ten yards in either direction. At either end of the tunnel, heavy stones and rotted timbers blocked the way.

  "This section of the catacombs was sealed off during the Age of Tears," Madol explained. "Before the Watcher was in place, in-fighting among the noble houses got so bad, they sealed off both ends of this tunnel to create a hideaway of sorts. It suits our purposes perfectly. Isolation and security. Nariem himself couldn't melt his way out of here, not without bringing the city block down on top of him."

  "I didn't know you read books going that far back," Nariem grunted with a sly smile.

  "Everyone needs a hobby," Madol answered evenly.

  "This is great," Keevan echoed, staring at the wide cavern in reverent awe. The moisture and heat from the street above flowed in through the opening at the top of the ladder. "Everywhere I go, I feel like I'm always being watched, especially since I started training at the academy. It's great to finally be alone, after a fashion."

  He reached the cavern floor, inspecting the walls thick with mold. Thin trickles of liquid seeped down from above. Through Keevan's elemental vision, courtesy of his Sight Seeker power, the glowing blue water seeped along the room's exterior in thinly scattered veins. The eerie scene cast the illusion they stood inside the belly of a living thing.

  "While you learn many valuable things at the academy, I'm afraid there are more serious skills they can't teach you. Even Hadrian," Madol said soberly.

  "Like what?" Keevan asked curiously.

  "In order to survive as a Sight Seeker in Issamere, you are eventually going to face a Tri-Being in battle," Madol's words were flat and terse, but Keevan saw a shiver of fear dance along Nariem's skin at those words, drawing a mild electrical field around his thick muscles and unkempt hair.

  "I'm learning how to use a sword. Hadrian did quite well with one," Keevan answered defensively.

  "You are not built like Hadrian. He's over three hundred pounds of pure muscle with twenty years of combat experience at his back, and even though he's a Rhet, he's surprisingly good at dispersing an enemy's elemental field. No, for you, you'll need something else entirely," Madol said, examining Keevan like one would an untested weapon, with equal mixtures of caution and hope. He pulled a small leather sack from his belt and set the precious cargo on the table.

  Nariem's fears vanished immediately, the elements around him subsiding. Only a very faint electrical field remained, signaling anticipation. Keevan would have abandoned his elemental vision in order to see Nariem's face, but then he caught a yellow flicker dancing around the bag itself.

  "What's in the bag?" Keevan asked, walking up to the table. Bahjal skirted down the ladder behind him, just as curious to see the fruits of Nariem's labors over the last month. He heard her soft Suadan shoes scrape against rock as she joined him at his side, taking his hand.

  "You are right, the people of Issamere watch you," Madol said grimly, slowing untying the leather straps holding the satchel closed. "It's likely that, the first time you face a Tri-Being in real combat, it will be someone who's familiar with Persuader training. He may have even studied your own development as a fighter. You will probably know next to nothing him."

  "That's not very comforting," Keevan echoed, staring down at the satchel. "This is supposed to help me spar better then? Become a better fighter?"

  "This? No, of course not. Only training can do that," Madol chuckled, casting the leather straps aside with a flick of his wrist. "Perhaps we're being a bit too theatrical about this. No, Keevan. This is a tool you must keep hidden and secret. Do not use it unless it's absolutely necessary. Understood?"

  "Of course," Keevan answered.

  "Very well," Madol said, flipping the satchel over and pouring the contents onto the table. They landed and dispersed with a hollow wumph. "Tell me what you see."

  Keevan's elemental vision caught hundreds of minute sparks flickering across the table, like fish leaping from a crowded pond. Thick yellow energy twisted and turned across the pile of powder, reacting to the mild electrical fields of the three Tri-Being's surrounding the table. Leaning in closer, Keevan pulled a pinch of the powder away from the pile. Alone, each bit of the rare metal was quite weak, but together as a bundle they could provide a solid shock.

  "This is Danica slag, refined into a powder," Keevan said, rolling the powder between his fingers. The strange substance slightly amplified the electrical currents in Keevan's skin, bathing his hand in a mild tingling sensation. Nariem practically glowed with pride and Madol drank in Keevan's words with a smile of satisfaction.

  Keevan continued his analysis. "It doesn't have the fixed entry and exit points you need for a Danica weapon. It's more like a cloud of element, feeding on and expelling electricity in all directions, but its strength is much weaker than forged Dancia."

  "How is this supposed to help him?" Bahjal asked, unconvinced, her arms folded across her chest. Warmth blossomed around her as irritation danced upon her tongue. "Keevan can't command the elements. How is giving an opponent Dancia supposed to help in a fight? Wouldn't it just make his opponent stronger?"

  "Would it?" Keevan asked excitedly, taking a pinch of Danica powder and pressing the grainy substance to her cheek. Her moisture and heat faded immediately, replaced with thin veins of electricity leaping into her skin. "Would a handful of this in your face make you a better fighter?"

  With a gasp of discomfort, Bahjal hopped back a pace, clutching her cheek. "By Raejin, that was not fun. I don't even think a Raejin Priest could handle that." She said with a shudder. "It's like you poured liquid fear on me."

  "It's not a perfect weapon," Keevan countered, holding the pinch of powder aloft while stepping toward her. "Here, I'll show you. If you don't feel any fear at all, then it can't amplify your electricity. Take a deep breath."

  Bahjal closed her eyes, balling her hands into fists as she stood straight as a board. Taking her chin in his off-hand, he pressed his lips to hers. His heart raced with a current all its own when he stood this close to her. He remembered when the Harbor Guild Master tried to attack them with lighting, a fear-based attack Bahjal couldn't have countered unless she felt completely safe. As she did then, she sighed contently when he held her, offering him a tight, trusting, hug in return. He tapped the pinch of powder against her cheek with his other hand. This time, the electricity amplifying substance had no effect.

  "Ahem," Madol coughed awkwardly, as Keevan and Bahjal parted. She smiled brightly, holding Keevan's hand as they returned to the table. A new wave of mild electricity wafted over Nariem's skin, not quite fear, anxiety. Along with a touch of frost, sorrow. But the blacksmith said nothing. He simply watched the new proceedings, arms folded in silent discontent.

  "As you've pointed out," Madol continued tapping the hardwood table before them, "This powder will feed off the fear of your attacker. Until you're better trained with that sword, just flash your eyes, throw this powder in your enemy's face and run away before he recovers."

  "You really think my glowing eyes would make a Tri-Being scared enough for this powder to take effect?" Keevan asked, using his elemental vision to watch Madol. Keevan doubted the p
owder would do much good against the Persuader. The Tri-Being's elemental field was inert, except for a small coal of heat radiating at his core. Beletokans often kept their anger on a tight leash, in case of any sudden need. There was something about Madol's persona that radiated stability, as if he were great boulder that could endure anything the ocean tossed in his direction.

  "Enough to slow them down," Madol insisted, "But this trick relies heavily on surprise and shock. If they expect it or they've seen it before, there's a greater chance of it not working."

  "Keep it secret, got it," Keevan agreed.

  "There's another point to consider," Nariem added, his voice thick with pride as he regarded his latest creation from across the table. "To the naked eye, Danica slag doesn't look different from any other blacksmith's refuse. If you use this in the street, it will fall to the ground and blend in with the dirt. You can return to the location later and recover the leftovers, using your elemental vision to expose the Danica powder."

  "That's a great idea," Bahjal said excitedly. "In truth, even if a Tri-Being picked Keevan's pocket and stole the powder, they'd have to interact with it to know what it was. Perhaps we should put something of value in the bag as well? Some gold or silver pieces perhaps."

  "So a thief won't think to take a closer look at the powder. Of course," Madol echoed. "You Suadans always think things through, don't you?"

  "Most days," Bahjal echoed, a note of sadness on her voice.

  "Wait," Keevan interrupted, eyes fixed on the Danica powder before them. "Does anyone have a gold or silver piece we could use? I need to check on something."

  Madol nodded, handing over a handful of coins. Keevan stuffed a gold one into the center of the pile. The effect was immediate. The moment the gold reached the center of the pile, a mild flash lit up Keevan's vision, a black line linked the coin to Keevan's hand, a heartbeat before an audible spark of electricity leapt through the air.

  "Ow!" Keevan hissed, shaking the pain from his fingers.

  "I should have thought of that," Nariem muttered, stroking his bearded chin. "The gold and silver are both excellent conductors of electricity. It gives the powder a center to focus their energies around."

  "Perhaps a carving of some kind, then?" Bahjal offered, pointing at the training weapons hanging from the wall. "Wood isn't much of a conductor, and he could easily say it was a hand carved gift he wanted to keep on hand."

  "Good enough, for now," Madol agreed, scooping the powder back into his sack.

  Keevan noticed the Persuader's thick gloves did an effective job of stopping the Danica powder from reacting with his emotions. If Keevan did use this powder on an attacker, the substance had to touch a Tri-Being's skin in order to be effective. He pursed his lips in worry as he made a mental note to remember that key fact, but a sense of foreboding settled over him as he remembered his last sparring match. There wasn't much time to remember tactical information in the time a cutpurse required to lunge at you from the shadows.

  "Should we... test it somehow?" Bahjal asked nervously.

  Madol paused, arching a curious eyebrow in her direction. "Are you suggesting I hurl a handful of this in your face and see what happens?"

  Bahjal paled, to the point of nausea. "No, never mind. It works just fine. A Tri-Being who hasn't experienced it first-hand would be quite susceptible."

  "Alright, then," Madol agreed, handing the small bag to Keevan. "Securing Danica slag is more complicated than you might think, so save this for emergencies."

  "Slag is waste, right?" Keevan asked, tying the bag to his belt. "Why would it be hard to get? Artisans throw it out with the rest of the trash."

  "We have to collect it rarely and in small quantities. The people have to believe that Nariem's experiments with slag are fruitless and occasional. If we took it all in one go, they'd likely realize how reactive slag can be," Madol explained, pointing at Keevan's sack. "The price of slag would skyrocket. It would not only be a nightmare to secure more, but more dangerous for you because your secret weapon would stop being secret. Imagine hundreds of Rhetans walking the streets with this stuff."

  "Well, I could easily pick it out of the trash," Keevan offered, picking up a couple small bits of powder Madol missed. "To my elemental vision, they glow very distinctly."

  Nariem chuckled. "Yes, we'd only need to explain why the Sight Seeker of Issamere, recently recruited into the ranks of the Malik's Persuaders, spends his free time digging through the refuse of Etrendi artisans everywhere. That wouldn't arouse suspicion at all."

  "Indeed," Madol chuckled darkly. "Look Keevan, I'm sure your ability to recognize Danica on sight will come in quite handy, very soon. I've no doubt. For now though, return to your training and keep that fear powder on hand, just in case. We're going to secure some more next week, as much as we can get without arousing suspicion."

  "I've got to get back to the forge myself," Nariem admitted, retrieving his cloak from a hangar along the rear wall. "I've got to make up for lost time on my next order. Masha will skewer me over a spit if I lose the forge because I was too busy playing with Danica slag to keep up with the finances."

  "Ahhh, the burdens of a married man," Madol said with a laugh. "That's one of the reasons I stay single. I like my freedom."

  "I'd hardly call a cold bed and an empty house every night freeing," Nariem shot back. "Besides, I'd be far worse off without Masha in my life. She understands the Etrendi world so clearly. I'd have lost half my buyers to other artisans, if not for her."

  "Who said anything about a cold bed?" Madol echoed, with a sly grin as he retrieved his own gear. "There are many advantages to the life of a Persuader."

  "If one is willing to pay the price," Nariem said grimly.

  Madol paused at those words, glancing at Keevan. "Also true," He echoed.

  "Well, you should get back to your studies, Keevan," Nariem advised, giving him a quick one-armed hug farewell. "Keep training hard. Things are going to get tougher in Issamere before they get better. You'll need to keep your sword-edge as sharp as you can, figuratively and literally."

  "Yes, father," Keevan agreed, releasing his elemental vision as he buried his face in Nariem's shoulder. The blacksmith smelled of burnished leather, smoke and sweat. The scents make Keevan homesick. But at Madol's insistence Keevan's class load at the academy was double that of a 'normal' student. There simply wasn't time to enjoy the quiet warmth of his family's company. Not for the next little while at least. Nariem tussled his son's hair and departed with a proud smile.

  "Pay attention to Hadrian's council," Madol rumbled as he took his place at the foot of the ladder. "That man's survived more battles than most under the Malik's command. But remember, the context of what he's teaching you is important. You only fight to defend your own life or that of an innocent. You do not fight to advance your own agenda or protect your pride."

  "I'd hardly think I'm in a position to get the 'don't pick fights' talk," Keevan mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek in frustration. "I'm not good enough to beat Merkim, for one."

  "Not yet, anyway," Madol echoed with a hopeful smile. "Training takes time, but if it's built on the wrong principles, it can still get you killed. The Malik values protecting lives over just about everything else, remember that as well."

  "Of course, Madol," Keevan said, watching the Persuader curiously. This was the most talkative he'd ever seen the burly Haustran-turned-Etrendi.

  "Keevan," Madol asked, looking to Bahjal uneasily. "I have a question about my Danica stores."

  "I don't keep any secrets from Bahjal," Keevan said openly. "She knows about how you compete with Etrendi, elementally speaking. The Danica rods in your limbs."

  "I'll keep your secret, as well," Bahjal promised quickly. "Surgically implanting Danica is hardly common knowledge. I'd imagine the Etrendi wouldn't take kindly to the thought of a surgeon out there capable of making Haustrans their equal."

  "Indeed, they would not," Madol agreed. "Keevan, you didn't realize when we
first met, that I had such adjustments made to my body, correct?"

  "Yes," Keevan said with a quick nod. "I didn't notice the Danica until after our fight with Kors. Some of your armor was torn off in the struggle. The rods have a unique glow to them, under the bare skin. I can't see it if you're covered up, though."

  "Well, thank you both for holding your tongues," Madol said, looking relieved. He saluted them and crawled up the ladder. From the entrance he added, "The Malik approves quite highly of the ability to keep secrets. Until next time." Then he crawled out of view.

  "That was an odd conversation," Keevan said, staring up at the exit long after Madol left. "I kept hearing a lot of 'the Malik approves of this' and such."

  "He's not a teacher, Keevan," Bahjal pointed out, putting her hand around his neck and curling the hair at the back of his head with her fingers. "He's never had a pupil. Even at the academy, he's more of a recruiter than an instructor. He's trying to prepare you to meet the Malik. Something must be on the horizon, something he's trying to prepare you for, but promised the Malik he wouldn't divulge."

  "Makes it rather hard to prepare for it then, doesn't it?" Keevan asked, bewildered.

  "Honestly, just be yourself, and if you're not sure you should talk, don't," Bahjal said. She leaned her head against his shoulder, sighing contently.

  "I wish we could find more moments like this," Keevan said, savoring the scent of lilacs in Bahjal's brown hair. The loops in her Suadan dress hung loosely around her as she closed her eyes and savored the moment. No subtle warmth radiated from her, no extra moisture clung to her hair. He slipped into his elemental vision, noticing a complete lack of elements around her.

  "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

  "Our first kiss," She answered, frowning.

  "Why?"

  "It wasn't very romantic," Bahjal sighed.

  "Well, you did save both our lives with that kiss," Keevan said with a chuckle. "Got to look on the bright side of things. Besides, we will have other chances at romance."