The Unseen

By Kaitlyn Carter Brown

Mercedes held her breath as the airship landed, its solar sails radiating energy. A gangway lowered toward a long line of eager passengers with tickets in hand.

First: board the airship.

She exhaled a slow breath. It had to be this airship, heading for the district housing the prestigious Leric Institute.

Second: convince them that I exist and tell the ringmaker that I need a leric ring.

Nothing else in the world could make her visible.

Unseen, she stood on the dock. No ticket could be held in her invisible hand. No one elbowed her for a better place in line. No one knew the desperate hopes beating inside her chest.

“Just a moment.” The boarding official held back the line as a delegation in sharp uniforms carrying metal-studded cases approached the gangway.

Mercedes eyed the cases, stamped with the Leric Institute’s symbol—a circle crossed with lightning. The institute specialized in studying those with extraordinary power.

People like her.

Butterflies erupted in her stomach as she followed the institute men onto the airship. She walked on tiptoe, wondering which was the elite ringmaker.

Third: don’t get caught. If she were to suddenly appear, she’d surely be arrested.

But nothing would stop her from getting that ring.

When her ability first began to manifest, it came in flashes of invisibility. A moment here, a moment there. But as she grew older, she began to shift into the unseen world, unable to stop it.

Only the institute could help her now.

Inside, Mercedes marveled at the lush interior. Plush seats, velvet curtains, and polished wood floors. She made a slow orbit around the oval-shaped ship, studying the passengers and snatching bits of conversation.

“Sit tight, we’ll be there soon.”

“Lovely day for flying.”

“Ringmaker’s here. Easy target.”

Mercedes stopped, fixing her eyes on two men in dark clothing. One wore a leather eyepatch.

“I’ll take him quietly.” Eyepatch leaned forward. “And then, he’ll pay.”

Wait, what?

“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. We will begin our ascent.”

Mercedes gasped as the ship rose into the air. A thrill tingled down her spine. No turning back now. She spun around, scanning the seats for the institute men.

But her cries of caution—silent in the unseen world—would never reach their ears.

One of the institute men rose from his seat. An elderly gentleman, he leaned into his cane as he moved to the back of the airship. On his lapel, a pin of the institute logo gleamed, the mark of a highly ranked official. He took a stool at the bar where a tender in a red bowtie polished glistening glasses.

Mercedes shuddered as Eyepatch rose, tromping down the aisle, stepping right through her. The sensation made her shiver, as did the sight of Eyepatch approaching the bar.

That’s him, the ringmaker.

“You.” The ringmaker nearly toppled off his barstool. “What—”

Then Mercedes noticed the pistol, concealed in Eyepatch’s sleeve.

“Luggage hold. Now.”

Eying the pistol, the ringmaker stood, taking his cane with him, and they vanished into the back room.

Mercedes followed, her body trembling. Absolutely helpless.

Raised voices echoed through the dark chamber.

“Dante, I’m sorry, the procedures were too dangerous. I had to terminate your employment.”

“Aye, I’ve paid the consequences. Now it’s your turn.”

The pistol cocked.

“No!” Mercedes’s shriek echoed across the chamber, bouncing off the metal walls.

Both men turned, startled, and looked straight at her.

She gasped and doubled over, pain shooting through her bones. Transitioning from immaterial to material felt like every cell in her body was being stretched and stitched back together again. Worst of all, her visibility lasted sometimes minutes, sometimes hours. Never on her terms.

The ringmaker’s cane swung through the air, smacking Dante’s hand. The pistol skidded across the floor. Mercedes stooped to grab it. Steel brushed her skin—and then slipped through her fingers. The pistol clattered behind a suitcase.

No! She looked up, meeting the ringmaker’s eyes, hoping to convey her desperation before she faded again. “Please… ” Help me.

Realization glowed in the old man’s eyes.

Dante shoved the suitcase aside, lunging for the pistol, while the ringmaker hobbled toward the door.

Mercedes wanted to cry. If the door were open, people could hear the gunshot. They would see.

Please. She needed her hand. Solid. Real. Just a moment.

Whether by some untapped skill, an answered prayer, or sheer will, her fingers materialized. Enough to touch the knob.

The door slid open as Dante pulled the trigger.

Gasps and screams erupted across the airship. Security officers came running. The ringmaker pitched forward, grasping his arm. Mercedes rushed forward, kneeling by his side.

Dante growled as the officers brought him down, the pistol confiscated. Several institute men rushed to the aid of the elderly ringmaker, grasping his arm.

“Are you all right?” One helped him to his feet.

“Yes, yes. Just a scratch.” The ringmaker’s gaze darted about the scene. “Bring me my case.”

Mercedes’s heart leapt in her chest.

“Sir?”

“There’s a girl. She’s invisible. Without her, Dante might have gotten his way.”

They procured the case. The ringmaker removed a tiny box and lifted the lid. Inside, a double-banded gold ring shone bright against dark velvet. At its center glittered an ebony stone so deep it could hold all of Mercedes’s hopes.

The ringmaker glanced around, seeking what he could not see. “If you’re there, my dear, I believe you’ve earned this.”

Mercedes held her breath, hoping to replicate whatever had happened with the door. One by one, her fingers appeared, free floating. Another round of gasps echoed across the airship. The ringmaker smiled, slipping the ring onto her waiting finger.

Her wrist joined her hand and then, as if she were being painted into the scene, she became visible. Solid. Seen.

I’m here.

As relief flooded Mercedes’s soul, she began to sob. “Thank you,” she choked.

The ringmaker’s eyes twinkled. “No, thank you, my dear. The institute happily makes your acquaintance.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kaitlyn Carter Brown, audacious adventurer and book lover, began writing at age 11 and never stopped. She writes for the undaunted and unafraid, spinning tales of courage, loyalty, and plenty of intrigue. She lives in southern California with her husband and devoted beta fish and enjoys the outdoors (especially national parks).

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