Qajar was teeming with choking alleys, suddenly appearing canals, terraces, and other sights where it would have been ridiculously easy to dispose of unwanted guests. Even the featureless street they traveled through, running into a dead-end at the palace walls was ominous, sending shivers down Seth’s spine. He seemed to be alone in these thoughts, however, neither Chai nor Temitope showed signs of even the slightest concern. Must have been their youth. Seth was always alone in his opinion of not being an invincible demigod just because of some clever trinkets.
There was no trap waiting for them, only Qajar’s Keeper and a small number of armed servants.
“Let me apologize in advance,” Lord Latif said. “I asked you here this early to observe the strange entrance into the rooms. At least we suspect this used to be the original entryway, although we discovered it after the Room itself.”
The door emerging from the spotless wall should have impressed Sethar, had it been his first time. The shimmering circle hovering in mid-air was an unseen sight in Seiran, but it resembled the lock of Hanat’s Room to a tee. The Forebearers must have been fond of this method, sealing their every facility this way. Perhaps the Shardizian Room had something similar they had yet to discover.
A crack ran along the smooth surface. A perfect, even-sided rectangle submerged into the stone, parting into two and disappearing inside the wall, revealing a tunnel. This wasn’t unfamiliar either, covered with a smooth, and nearly indestructible steel like everything the Forebearers left behind. Some rods of light shone bright, others just hung without a shred of sparkle, waiting for an eternity until their creators returned to repair them.
“As you can see, this complex is made up of several rooms connected by a system of corridors,” Lord Latif explained, striding through the tunnel. “A second level exists below us, although we barely touched it just yet.”
Chai was the first to follow, her new leg creating a subtle knock with every step. Temitope kept on her heels like a pup following its master. Seth was more hesitant but quickly caught up.
“I believe whatever ended the creators of this place was more devastating than the catastrophe destroying the Old Garden,” Lord Latif continued. “Or we woefully misunderstood our history, misrepresenting what the Old Garden was.”
Seth wasn’t sure what the other Keeper meant, but Chai seemed to understand it better.
“From what we saw, this civilization preceded the Old Garden,” she said. “We call them Forebearers.”
“Forebearers. Interesting.” Lord Latif turned to Temitope. “What do the Hanits know about these?”
“Nothing specific, but scholars believe these are remnants left behind during the Cycle. Before your Garden, there was chaos, and before the chaos was another era of prosperity. Perhaps these buildings are what remain of previous eras.”
That was a novelty, even for Seth, although not entirely unheard. There were sects of izmaani claiming the Old Garden was barely one in a long line of worlds the gods created, then destroyed. They were outlawed and quickly proclaimed as heretics, though, since it hinted that destruction was a part of their plans.
“Fascinating,” Lord Latif said, caressing his beard. “And what moves the Cycle? What destroys prosperity?”
“Nobody knows but the Spirits. Every era is different from the last, since people tend to turn away from their failures. The era of your Garden was dominated by magic. The one before depended on knowledge. This era was shaped by the Spirits, rescuing us from chaos, the next will be something different.”
“Well, Lord Sethar calls it Foremagic, rather than knowledge,” Chai said, looking at the shining rods. “I can hardly imagine knowledge creating something like this.”
The address his own daughter used sent a tingling down Sethar’s neck. He never mentioned their family ties either, and it wasn’t Latif’s business, but it still felt… wrong.
“Foremagic isn’t science, but not magic either,” he said. “At least in our understanding.”
“Oh, we’re barely scraping the lost knowledge of our predecessors,” Lord Latif said. “Alchemists already have tricks up their sleeve most people consider magic. Perhaps time will reveal more.”
The Qajari Keeper stepped onto a stairway built from the same metal everything else was, gesturing them to follow. “Come, the most fascinating things are above us.”
Latif abused his standing as host to its fullest extent, marching at the front and describing every tiny detail as if they had never seen anything similar. It made Seth sick. Before he could voice his opinion, though, they reached the upper level, and every word got stuck in Seth’s throat.
They had cleared the rubble from the floor, but the cylinders still lined the walls, daring them with their jaws of broken glass. There were no lights, no Forebearers wearing white capes, not even the green-eyed savior shattering the cylinders with an axe, but there could be no mistake.
They stood in the same building as in the vision. It wasn’t exactly the same, missing the shining gate and the tables controlling it, but it was recognizable.
Taken from Chai’s expression, she saw it as well.
“If the spirits arrived after the Forebearers fell into chaos…” Sethar said, circling the room. “… how could they show this place to us?”
Temitope shrugged. “Perhaps our tales are incomplete. Spirits are spirits, maybe they were here forever, but acted only when necessary.”
Lord Latif raised his head like a dog smelling fresh meat. “Spirits, you say? They showed you this location?”
Chai glanced at Seth, although he wasn’t sure what to say either. He deliberately made his question obscure. Maybe for the worse. The Qajari Keeper seemingly longed for mysteries.
Sethar turned towards Lord Latif, staring into his eyes, hoping his standing would relieve them from his constant curiosity. “We weren’t vacationing in the Southern Country, Lord Latif. We sought answers.”
“And what have you found?” Latif asked.
“A map,” Chai said. “We’ve found a map with shiny dots representing every Secret Room in Seiran and beyond. I think the size of these dots hinted at the scale of the Rooms, and this one you have is second only to Hanat.”
Latif nodded, filling Seth with relief. This nosy nobleman was easy to control with a few honeyed words and praises – something Chai was masterful at, if the need arose.
“Right, right. We’ve been excavating for years, yet the end is nowhere in sight. Although I’ve personally collected quite a number of exquisite artifacts, if I may say so. Some even came alive for a short while, like autonomous magical trinkets.”
“Can we see those?”
“At once, Lord Sethar. They are stashed elsewhere, since it’s impossible to tackle so many mysteries at once. That’s why your arrival is welcome, praised even. Please, follow me.”
Latif led his guests into another room on the ground floor – although such a thing was nonsense in Qajar, but they did go down a flight of stairs. This one was larger than the previous one, with visible modifications to accommodate the small group of mejais studying the Foremagic. Tables, seat cushions, wardrobes, but most importantly, shelves lined with the most unrecognizable collection anyone had ever seen. Some were broken beyond help, although Seth doubted that was the state they had been found in. The tables were covered with smaller pieces, sometimes joined to larger parts, but none looked functional. And none looked like the gate, luckily.
One shelf hosted more familiar things: spheres of glass and gold, about the size of a child’s fist.
Djinn hearts.
Most of them were shattered, lifeless, and blackened with rust and dirt, but not all. A single sphere was alit, vibrating, ebbing and flowing like a beat, shining golden colors around itself. As the mejais approached, the light coming from the sphere gathered onto one side. It noticed them. It stared at them.
“Welcome to the real treasury,” Latif said, spreading his arms. “Prince Sanju may claim these are only knick-knacks and junk, but I remember that Lady Chai claimed to love puzzles. You may find no shortage of those here.”
Chai walked around the room, moving her eyes from one thing to the next. She looked indifferent, almost bored, but Seth noticed the sneaky looks she shot towards the hearts.
“Where did you find these?” she said, stopping at the shelf.
“In a chamber below. Nobody has any idea what they are. Trinkets, perhaps, but only the glod one has any power remaining.”
“It’s dying,” Chai said.
“Excuse me?”
“It pulsates because it’s dying. It looks more intact than the others, though. Perhaps that’s the only reason it survived this long.”
“You’re trying to say it’s a form of life?”
Chai glanced at Lord Latif with contempt, but didn’t say a word. Latif cleared his throat and turned to Seth for help.
“They are djinns,” he said. “Before and after they inhabit someone, they live in these spheres.”
Latif hesitated, his eyes wandering around, jumping from Chai to Seth, even to the patient Temitope.
“I have to admit, I fancy myself an expert regarding demons,” Latif admitted. “But I’ve never heard about that before. You think this was an empire of djinns?”
Chai shook her head. “The Forebearers were human, like us, but they were connected to the djinns. Foremagic may be their origin.”
That was the least probable of all possible explanations, but that was Chai’s way of thinking. Seth still believed that the Forebearers only harnessed the demons, to power their machines, but he didn’t want to argue.
“That’s a bold theory,” Latif said.
“We need to be bold to progress, my lord,” Chai replied with such a condescending smile she could only have learned from her mother. She took a broken heart from the shelf, twirling it around in her hand before dropping it with a painful moan. Seth and Temitope both rushed to help her, but she sent them away with a wave of her arm. “I’m fine. It’s just sharp,” she said, clenching her fist around a cut wound.
“Shouldn’t we treat it?”
“I said, I’m fine.”
Chai took a step closer to the shelf—and away from Temitope’s concerned face—reaching towards the pulsating golden sphere. The light retreated for a moment, shuddering before Chai’s touch; then something happened.
An invisible, strong magical force lashed out from inside the heart, wrapping itself around Chai’s arm, merging into her skin. The wound on her palm shone with the same golden light, closing without even leaving a scar.
Seth’s breathing hastened. A djinn was about to enter the body of his daughter. He took hold of Shardeen’s Sword, ready to unsheathe it, but he wasn’t fast enough.
The light emanating from the dying heart started blinking in and out. The force retreated, coiling back inside the heart, then it was back to the previous pulsating.
Chai stared down at her palm, then her lips pulled into a grin.
“What happened?” Lord Latif asked.
Sethar did not need to ask. Chai had just found the treasure she had sought since the moment she had marched into the palace of Shardiz. Something concrete, a step towards her goal.
She found a weak, dying djinn that healed a wound without breaking a sweat.
“I think the djinn tried to possess me,” she said. “Then it… ran out. We need a power source. Lord Latif, this sphere could be the strongest healing trinket this world has ever seen. And from what I know about djinns, it’s capable of much more.”
Seth shook his head. “You’re doing it again. Taking theories and letting your imagination run wild without thinking it through.”
“Perhaps. But I found an opportunity to prove my theories. Carefully. Minimizing the risk of failure.”
It was a reasonable answer, something that was a breath of fresh air from Chai’s usual ripostes.
“How would you find a fitting power source?”
“That’s… a good question. I’ve no idea how they gather their power. Maybe the tales have a hint or two, or we could try powering it like the Room itself.”
“We noted down everything in great detail,” Lord Latif said. “You may use this facility and every resource Prince Sanju granted freely, Lady Chai. This could turn the tide of war. Perhaps even Prince Idranil will be satisfied.”
A grimace ran across Sethar’s face. “Oh, he will. But to play the role of the ever-pessimist, what if it comes alive and manages a more successful possession?”
“I doubt it’s capable of possessing living things,” Chai said. “But it’s a possibility, so we will prepare for it. For now, I think leaving it alone is enough to keep it contained.”
Lord Latif started grinning like a vulture looking at a carcass. “This means you’ll stay?”
“It does, my lord,” Chai replied. “If you’d allow me to remain in Qajar’s hospitality. Although I can’t speak for others.”
“If you stay, I’ll stay,” Temitope said, barely surpirising Seth. Of course, he wouldn’t desert her side, no matter what.
“Even I can agree to that,” Seth said. “Lord Latif, I’d be grateful if you could bear my thorny personality for a short while.”
“It’s an honor, my lord,” Latif replied with a smile, almost making Seth reconsider. He hated this man and his profiteering smile. He disliked Prince Sanju and his politics, couldn’t stand the Qajari way of living and the locals’ air of superiority–but he loved his daughter. It had taken a long, hard journey to recognize this, like an ancient command waiting to be found, but he had found it. The unconditional love, blind to everything, finally bloomed inside Sethar’s heart, not caring if he was ready for it or not.