Seth had had about enough of courtly formulas. He hated all the acting, the overplayed kindness, the fake courtesy making him grind his teeth. The trip through Qajar wasn’t pleasurable, and neither the giant ringed gate nor the spearhead-shaped canals could impress him while his thoughts were occupied by the number of bows he had to do before it was over.
He glanced at Chai from time to time, trying to use her enthusiasm as a source of energy. The decision to help her was easy to make, but more difficult to uphold with every step he took outside his comfort zone.
“Something is troubling you, Keeper?” a man asked. Seth couldn’t recognize him but taken from his clothes, he must have been one of Rani’s councilors. He wore a dark green vest with golden embroidery, complete with a crimson waist belt and matching shoulder cloth to herald his rank.
“Have we met?” Seth asked, a bit grumpier than he intended.
“Not yet, my lord. I’m Isnan, envoy to the majestic prince.”
Sethar’s eyes lit up. If he had a professional envoy accompanying him, it would make his job much easier.
“Ah, I see. Forgive my rudeness. I was just thinking about formalities.”
“On that note, that’s precisely why I approached you, my lord. Prince Idranil tasked me to carry the burden of official representation, including the delivery of his letter.”
Rani once again beat Seth to his own needs. It was irritating and absurdly relieving at the same time.
“I see. How thoughtful of my brother.”
“Well, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, not just yourself, my lord. Prince Sanju is… how to put it… a difficult case,” Isnan said. His words were respectful yet still informal, a feat Seth thought unachievable before. “Not that it would prove difficult for you, after cracking the Southerners’ stoicism, but the Qajari are infinitely more boring.”
“You don’t have to walk on eggshells. I’ve never complained about having to miss politics. I’m a mejai, not a diplomat. I’d rather leave the latter to the professionals.”
“Oh, don’t worry, my lord, you’ll have no less work than myself,” Isnan said. “The Qajari Keeper, a man called Latif Mahasaya, requested a meeting with you. I’ve heard something about a private feast he’s hosting in your honor.”
Seth had run out of air to sigh with, but he could spare one last bit. Another feast. Another gift he was forced to accept to avoid having influential people taking offense.
“I can’t refuse that, can I?”
“Courtesy is uncomfortable armor, my lord. Yet without it, we’re naked on this field of battle we call diplomacy.”
As forced as that phrase was, even Seth saw the underlying truth. “Can you give more practical advice for this naked soldier?”
Isnan led his horse closer to Sethar. “I can. Keep an eye on this Lord Latif. My sources claim he was nobody a few years ago, yet he appeared like a djinn. Even his most loyal allies are still figuring out how exactly he could obtain such a title. When I asked the majestic prince, he said the Keeper is ‘a witty man’.”
Seth nodded. From Rani’s mouth, that sentence was a code that meant that in Shardiz, Latif would have had three spies watching his every move.
The feast wasn’t only in Sethar’s honor – it included Chai as well. The servants of Keeper Latif’s household went out of their way to impress both of them, lining their tables with roasted avian swimming in gravy, fruit-stuffed goat’s meat, and various fish from the local ponds. And alcohol, of course. Seth didn’t dare offend them, so he tried eating—and drinking—himself into a comfortable numbness before their host found them.
He was too slow. The spice-coated duck leg was only halfway done when a sugary smile floated into his peripheral vision, cornered by two inches of coal-black beard on a circular face.
Lord Latif said nothing. His gaze wandered over to Chai, measuring her until his eyes settled on the metallic ankle sticking out under her skirt.
“It’s spectacular. I’ve heard the rumors, but I have to admit, I was hesitant to believe them,” he said with honest amazement. A moment later, as if he awoke from a dream, the lord put an arm over his chest, bowing deeply, even sticking a leg out. Some Qajari custom, Seth thought.
“Pardon my abruptness. I’m Latif Mahasaya, Keeper of Prince Sanju and the city of Qajar.”
Chai rearranged her skirt to hide her unnatural leg from Latif’s eyes, while Seth just put down the duck leg and took a sip from a goblet. This man already irked him, so he thought taking his time could be a bit of revenge.
“Pardon taken,” he said eventually. He had never thought about how to behave with someone of the same rank. How much courtesy was required towards another Keeper of Secrets? The words of Isnan kept echoing in his ears like some relentless bug, so Seth gulped down his disdain. “Please, take a seat, Lord Latif. I don’t think I need to introduce myself. The lady beside me is Chai, second in the ranks of the Shardizian Secret Circle.”
From the quick flashing of her eyes, Chai took her new rank with a bit of surprise. Not that she would have settled for anything less, but they never talked about her officially joining the Circle.
“Please, accept my deepest adoration, my lady,” Latif said, repeating the bow specifically towards Chai. She must have inherited his father’s confusion when faced with etiquette, only blinking in surprise, glancing at his father. Seth itched to help her, but he couldn’t. If he replied in her stead, that meant they were either related or married, and that would have further elevated Latif’s curiosity.
“The pleasure is mine, my lord,” she said after a delay.
Latif sat down in between them, barely hiding his attempts to touch Chai’s leg with his own. Luckily, Chai noticed and sat further away, saving Latif from getting burned to pieces by an offended Sethar.
“I’ve heard legends that the Hanits can replace lost limbs with metal, along with other wonders, but I’ve always thought they were nonsense,” Latif said, retreating into the cover of a pleasant chit-chat, turning to Sethar. “Please, I beg you, tell me everything about it!”
“Are you aware you’re asking me to reveal the secrets of an entire kingdom?”
“It can’t be so forbidden, if they let Lady Chai walk away…”
“The results aren’t, but those you can see for yourself. Without asking further,” Seth said, then forced himself to take a slow breath. If he wanted to enter the Qajari Secret Room and be rid of this annoying man, it was time he took the offensive, not just hide behind an armor. “Since our provinces are allied, I’m willing to reveal our secrets… if you’re willing to reciprocate, Keeper Latif.”
Latif smiled like a sly fox. “Why else would we converse, no? Qajar is prepared to share secrets with our greatest ally.”
Seth returned the smile as much as he could. Bargaining was way easier with Seiran’s most respected, or feared, throne—and treasury—backing his claims.
“There’s a hidden room near Enitan, the Hanit capital, which can cure almost anything apart from death,” he said, deliberately leaving out crucial details.
“I’d say it’s more a building complex than room,” Chai said.
“And you’ve learned to harness it?” Lord Latif said, his eyes widening in surprise. “I’ll admit, it has been many years since I started deciphering the secrets of the Qajari room. But I never managed to figure out its function, neither did my predecessors, let alone make it work. Before I was appointed, Prince Sanju already harbored an idea to excavate and melt everything inside, having blacksmiths forge weapons from the old machines. Luckily, I could deter his intentions.”
“Lady Chai is a natural in reviving the slumbering machines,” Seth said, with a hint of pride. His daughter had solved something in days that whole generations of Qajari Keepers failed at.
“Oh, really?” Latif said, turning over to Chai.
She just shrugged. “I was always fond of puzzles, my lord. This one is no different, only bigger in scale, with broken pieces, and without a clear vision of what to expect.”
“You have a resourceful assistant, Lord Sethar,” Latif laughed. “Can I borrow her for a year?”
Seth slammed down his goblet harder than he intended. Those words stung like a whip striking across his back, leaving a burning scar all the way through his heart. His fingers moved on their own, clutching the shortsword. The laughing voices would have gladly bathed this room in fire.
No. He had to keep calm, not succumb to this newfound rage inside. It was nonsense. He had been a coward all his life, yet now he felt ready to wrestle anyone daring to speak a foul word about Chai, let alone take her away.
Maybe this is how fatherhood felt.
“If she wishes, no power could stop her. If she doesn’t, however, you’re welcome to try. I wouldn’t, but you certainly can,” he replied, reaching for another round of wine. A part of him wished to see Lord Latif try, ending up just like Rani’s soldiers–burned to a crisp. This petty nobleman had no chance of tearing them apart.
“Since you’ve come all this way, I suspect you wish to study our Secret Room,” Latif said. “Maybe it will impress Lady Chai enough to think about staying here. For a while, at least.”
“That depends on how impressed I am,” Chai replied. “How did you handle the Room’s spirit?”
“Oh, the voice? It was terribly damaged at the start, but we cleaned it up somewhat. Now we can mostly make out what it says, although understanding is still far beyond me.”
Seth already hated this pompous snake. He pushed his goblet away from himself, stood up from the table, and tried his best to put on an expression other than irritated.
“I think we’ve feasted for long enough,” he said. “Can you show us that impressive room?”
Latif laughed. “Oh, to be young! It has been a long journey, Lord Sethar. It’s best if you rest for today. Tomorrow, right after breakfast when you’re pleased and full of energy, I shall escort you around the Room personally. Be prepared, it won’t be a short trip. But neither shall it be boring.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Chai said.
“We’ll be waiting,” Seth added.
When Latif finally left, Chai leaned closer to Seth. “Can I just say I prefer the Hanits?”
“Yes. Yes, you can.”
“There’s something off about him, something repulsive. But apart from that, he may answer a lot of questions.”
“He may. What questions are you interested in?”
“The vision. Hanat wasn’t the place, so if Qajar is more familiar, we could figure out what we saw. And, more importantly, why we saw it.”
Seth didn’t reply. It was an easy answer, something that bothered him too, but that wasn’t what he was asking. “And overall? What are you searching for?”
“I don’t understand.”
She was lying. Chai understood quite clearly, she just tried to avoid answering.
“I’ll admit, it’s hard to notice, but your usual sourness has its weak moments. You’re chasing something, and you’re doing everything to keep me in the dark. I hate that, so time to reveal your plan. What’s your goal?”
“I’m trying to achieve more. We’ve been through this so many times, Seth. I want to go beyond the current horizon. We’ve found something wonderful, something we could use like none other. We found a clue to our own existence, the mejais, the djinns. I hate how you aren’t as excited as I am.”
Seth folded his arms. They’d reached this point many times, but this time, he wasn’t backing off. “That’s a poetic answer, but it doesn’t convince me. If knowledge was your goal, you’d have stayed in Hanat, studying everything about that room. But it wasn’t fast enough, right? You’re not just trying to go beyond the horizon, you’re trying to reach it in time for something.”
“That room led nowhere. I could grow old there, and it would achieve nothing. It wasn’t fast enough, nor interesting enough. Why am I being interrogated?”
Seth took a deep breath, then went for the kill: the only answer that could shatter Chai’s defense.
“Because I want to help.”
The obviously pre-prepared riposte got stuck in Chai’s throat. Her large, sleep-deprived eyes studied Seth’s face hesitantly, but that was a sign of victory. He had finally managed to convince her to try trusting him.
“You know… My mother was always by my side. No matter what happened, she was always listening to me even though she couldn’t… understand me. I got used to being alone in certain subjects. Magic was one of them, and trying to surpass myself, to reach for things beyond me was another.”
For the first time since their meeting a year ago, Chai seemed genuinely sad, yet somehow relieved.
“You’re the first person like me. I’m confused about how to behave, even apart from you being… you know,” she said, glancing around. “Maybe you could help.”
A strange sensation of warmth spread inside Sethar’s chest, something that prompted him to smile. He took hold of the feeling, using it like he used magic to solidify his decision.
“I could. And I will. Someone said to me that if a mejai sets their mind on something, not even the gods could stop them.”
Chai smiled. Not politely, not repressed, but with real gratitude. Seth was unsure about how he knew, yet he was still convinced this was her real face. This was Chai’s smile before the world had shattered for her.
“Well, you asked for this. I aim to resurrect someone. It’s possible in theory, djinns also inhabit and repair dead bodies even when they are… quite old. What I’m planning is more difficult, since I don’t want some alien spirit to inhabit someone, I want their own soul to return.”
She spoke fast, like he was afraid of getting interrupted, but Seth sat quietly through it. He had a suspicion about this, and it caught him more prepared than back in Hanat. That, together with the newfound warmth of parenthood—and a few goblets of wine—helped him to stay calm.
“I believe you’re a smart girl, so I’m going to explain only once why I think it’s a bad idea. If you think it through and still decide to try, I’ll help… within certain limits. Are you familiar with the concept of ghouls?”
“I am. I’ve killed four. But I’ve learned ghouls are created when a spirit forces itself into an unfitting body, getting stuck in between life and death. At least according to Nazrik. If someone connects to his own body, there’s no such mismatch.”
“Who’s Nazrik?” Seth asked, trying to ignore the fact that Chai was still more competent even in this matter.
Chai just blinked in surprise. “You don’t know about Nazrik? The Ramashi miracle-worker? The spirit in the lamp? Your mother never read you tales at night?”
“No, she didn’t. And my nursemaid couldn’t read, so I was listening to other tales. What’s your point?”
“Well, he’s a reliable source. Before meeting him, I thought he was just a myth, but he’s real. Nazrik is an efrit, and a mejai at the same time, past his first millennium, so he knows quite a bit.”
“Never mind,” Seth said before Chai could reroute the whole conversation. “All I’m saying is that these are theories, however probable they are. Magic can always go awry, unpredictable outcomes are more frequent than you’d think, and taboos are there for a reason. Are you willing to take the risk of creating a ghoul?”
“There’s no risk to take. The body won’t reject its own soul.”
“I have to repeat: in theory. Or can you prove it?”
“If I could, that would mean someone beat me to it, so I wouldn’t have to search.”
Seth stared straight into Chai’s eyes. “Then my question stands. Are you taking this risk?”
“No,” she replied. “Not for him. Thankfully, there are plenty of other dead people.”
“No,” Seth said, shaking his head. He wasn’t a fool, this option crossed his mind, too, but it wasn’t something he was willing to overlook. “That’s one of my rules. You can’t involve others in this, neither living, nor dead. You can’t force anyone to bear the consequences, should you fail.”
“I’ve killed ghouls before. If something goes wrong, I’ll just destroy it, returning it to wherever it came from.”
Seth couldn’t argue with that, since he had never seen a single of these sand-blooded creatures. He heard the legends, though, and he suspected not even Chai knew what befell them after they were destroyed.
“If they return. Which, again, is a theory.”
“Everything is a theory here. Like how mage blood dilutes through generations, or everything about Aneesa and the Foremagic. All we have are theories. If that bothers you, you don’t have to help.”
“Alright, let me reword this. We’re either doing this my way, or not at all.”
“And your way is… what? To not practice, only theorize until I somehow figure it out? With no risks?” Chai struck back, aiming her every word at Seth. This time, however, some otherworldly power turned him from a mejai to a father, and that was a way stronger power. Especially when facing an offended teenage girl.
“You may phrase it as you like. My rules are that you won’t force anyone into experimenting. Neither living, nor dead.”
Much to Seth’s surprise, Chai eventually just sighed. “Fine. You haven’t repeated how heretical this was, so I should compromise, too.”
Seth just nodded, leaning against the backrest of his chair. Although he had somehow won this debate, Chai was still headstrong enough to drain him of all energy.
“Let’s go to sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow, we’ll take a look at the secrets of Qajar’s Room.”
“Fine,” Chai replied, still a bit grumpy, rising from her chair to head towards the stairs leading out of the dining hall. Before she reached them, however, she turned around. “Sleep tight… father.”