Free 7: Enemies and Shadows by Ginn Hale

face flushed brilliant red.
    “Who did—” the young scholar began to demand but then stopped as he at last noticed Kahlil glowering at him. The rest of the men in the room had gone silent. Those who had witnessed Kahlil’s fist appear from nowhere gaped at Kahlil in shocked horror. The majority of the men, however, had seen nothing but their fellow club member’s sudden fall. They peered around in confusion. Across the table from Kahlil, Alidas shook his head ruefully.
    Immediately Kahlil regretted his action. He had come here to ask a favor. Punching one of the club members was hardly going to help him in that. But Hial’luyyn’s demeanor had not changed.
    “Are you all right, Tevar?” he called out to the young scholar.
    “I am, sir,” the young man replied, hand still cupped to his face.
    “Then I trust you can return to your seat.” Hial’luyyn gave the command with a gentle smile. Instantly, the young scholar obeyed. Hial’luyyn then returned his attention to Kahlil. His benign smile took on a hint of genuine amusement.
    “I was going to ask for a demonstration of your abilities but I see that they are all that has been written of them.”
    “I’m sorry I—” Kahlil began, but Hial’luyyn raised a hand to silence him.
    “There’s no need to apologize.” Hial’luyyn’s voice rose over the murmurs and whispers that filled the room. “Some of the younger men here are not used to thinking of the immense conviction behind the texts that they study. A holy man of the old faith is a rarity now and some people do not know how to behave respectfully in such a presence. I hope you’ll forgive the rudeness.”
    “Of course,” Kahlil replied.
    “Thank you.” Hial’luyyn lowered his voice so that just Alidas and Kahlil would hear him now. “When you opened the Gray Space just now, it was so silent. After the reports I have read of Fikiri’s comings and goings, I’m quite amazed.” Hial’luyyn was again gazing at Kahlil with delighted fascination. And Kahlil realized that for Hial’luyyn he really was an ancient relic brought to life.
    “It is rude to ask these things at the table, but would you do me the immense favor of reading something for me?” Hial’luyyn asked. “I know that your time is limited. You must return to Vundomu as soon as the papers you need have arrived from my office, but I would appreciate it.”
    “Yes, certainly.” Kahlil felt a rush of relief. Alidas had already told Hial’luyyn everything and Hial’luyyn had already sent for the papers. Seconds before, the world could have ended in a matter of days. Now, salvation had been presented to him as if it were a common courtesy, as if it were his for the asking. Kahlil didn’t think anything in his life had been so easily achieved. It seemed unreal to him. His relief verged on joy.
    “Here it is, then.” Hial’luyyn lifted a small parcel from his lap. Kahlil could see that it was a book swathed in several layers of silk.
    Kahlil pushed his plate aside and took the book. The silk had not just been wrapped around it, he now saw. A finely embroidered case had been sewn for this book. Tiny pearl buttons clasped the case shut. Carefully, Kahlil removed the cloth. He stared at the book for several moments in surprise. It was not an original but an exquisitely detailed duplicate of the Nayeshi text, Dan the Milkman . The drawings had a distinctive Basawar style. The details of Dan’s clothing were much too beautiful. His milk truck had taken on a mythical appearance.
    “Can you read it?” Hial’luyyn’s question came with quiet intensity.
    “Certainly,” Kahlil said.
    “I knew that the Kahlil would be able to read it,” Hial’luyyn said, beaming.
    “I’d be happy to,” Kahlil replied.
    After they had finished their meal, Kahlil read and translated the short book as well as two other partial texts from Nayeshi. Hial’luyyn often asked him to repeat lines as he took notes.
    “So many of the most profound