Divided (14 page)

Leif’s father looked beside himself.  Surely, he wanted to
tell his son that he couldn’t go—but if his son was volunteering and it seemed
that no one else was willing to do it, then why should he say no?  After a long
few moments, he stared at Leif.  “Well, if… if you think you can handle it,
son, then I am not one to stand in your way.”

Leif grinned wolfishly at his father and let a slow nod
overtake his countenance.  Aela found that she was even more unhappy now than
she was when Leif had showed up to the bloody dinner.  Oh—didn’t it just
figure!?  Leif always managed to make her life a nightmare any time he was
within seeing distance.

The rest of the dinner consisted solely of political babble
that Aela was happy to ignore.  She also re-adopted her policy of not looking
at the insolent little brat of a nobleman who had ruined her dinner.  Once
dinner was ended, she excused herself from the company with a curtsy.  She
quickly removed herself to her room to grab her book.  She would have
ordinarily stayed in her room, but as she didn’t feel particularly like doing
so—she headed to the courtyard. 

Their courtyard was one of the few places in the castle that
Aela liked.  There were hanging flowers and fountains that spilled up water in
abundance.  The soft sounds of it soothed her worries, and she collapsed on one
of the swinging benches that their mother had installed before her passing. 

There, she pulled out her book and opened to her place.  She
didn’t worry about who might see her, as no one paid attention to the princess
in the courtyard reading a book—everyone saw her doing it—and no one cared
about it anymore.  The words flowed before her and she found herself lost in
them.  Despite having read them before, she felt as though she were going
through them for the first time all over again.  Her chest knotted for the hero
every time.

Yes, the individual spoken of in the book could almost have
been Taeru Lassau.  The only major difference was the fact that this hero, this
man, had promised that the Magisters could have his life and destroy the
lands—if he were to fail.  Taeru would have been too worried to make any
promise like that.  Taeru believed in people, but Aela couldn’t imagine him
taking a risk with other people’s lives.  Taeru would have promised his own
death thirteen times before he promised another’s.

That guilt, though.  Her reading of the book had opened up
an entirely new worry for her brother.  She only hoped his guilt about leaving
hadn’t been his undoing, and that wherever he was, he was happy.  “There you
are.  Reading.  I should have guessed.”

Leif’s voice frightened her, and she lowered the book at
once.  Leave it to this boy to come and ruin her reading time.  As if he hadn’t
already soured her evening.  “What do you want?” she hissed.  She didn’t intend
to be polite.

“To grace you with my lovely presence,” Leif said flatly. 
“You should be thanking me.”

“I’m trying to read,” she informed him.

He quirked an eyebrow as he sat down beside her, completely
uninterested in her attempts to get him to leave her alone.  “What are you
reading?” he asked.

“A book,” she answered curtly.

He frowned.  “You have got to be the most unpleasant woman
to be around.  What book?” he asked.

Aela didn’t need Leif getting any dirt on her—as far as her
tastes in reading not exactly being legal anymore.  “Likewise for you and men,”
she said.  Truth be told, she could think of a few people that she would less
like to be around than Leif Firenz.

Just as he always tended to do, Leif seemed to know that she
was lying.  A very small, thin smile eased its way onto his lips.  “The book is
from Telandus, yes?” Leif asked.

Aela jerked her head up to him and her eyes widened.  How
could he have seen what she was reading so quickly?  She had done her best to
hide it immediately, and she certainly hadn’t been reading it in plain sight. 
He had to have been staring at her for some time!  “You were spying on me,” she
accused.

Leif looked insulted, and then he laughed.  “You are vain,
princess.  I was doing nothing of the sort.  You simply weren’t very worried
about hiding your book,” he informed her with a crisp voice.  She wished she
was as good at detecting lies as Leif seemed to be.

“I think you’re lying,” she said without reason.  He just
offered her another quiet grin and looked out into the courtyard without saying
one way or the other.  She assumed that his lack of denial meant that she was
right.  All at once, now felt like the perfect time to speak her mind.  “Why
did you volunteer to go to Telandus?  You know that you will probably die?” she
asked him, as though speaking to a child.

For a moment, Leif didn’t answer.  He just kept staring at
the ground as though he was certain something would spring up from it.  Silence
hung in the air as she waited for his response.  “I wanted to go,” he finally
answered.

“You wanted to throw your life away?  And here I thought you
were far too fond of yourself.  Did someone knock you down a few pegs while you
were in Enask?”

Leif frowned.  “No, I just decided that I wanted to be doing
more than I am.”  His response was quick, and it reminded Aela just a little
too much of another she’d received a while ago.  Leif was going to
disappear—and likely never come back—just like Taeru.

“Do what you like,” she said flatly, uninterested in
continuing the line of thought.  She didn’t want to feel that loss again, as
she was still feeling it from the first time.  After all, she didn’t care about
Leif Firenz. 

There was another strained silence, and she realized that
she may have affected him with her words.  Perhaps she’d been too harsh—then
again, he certainly wasn’t taking her feelings into consideration with his
sudden decision to leave.  “I could bring you back all sorts of books, you
know,” he said lightly.

She wasn’t in the mood to humor him.  In fact, she was
restraining herself from knocking him across the head.  “Lovely,” she said.

“Aela,” he finally said, and all of his fancy tones had been
forgotten, “what is the matter with you?”

“I don’t understand why everyone feels like they have to
leave.”  She stared into space.  Everyone.  Taeru had left because he felt as
though he should be doing something, and now Leif was going to do the same
thing. 

Aela didn’t know how she felt about Leif, and she had been
trying to figure it out for some time.  Or perhaps she had not been trying to
figure it out in his absence, and now the fact that she had let it go unchecked
was beginning to beat down on her.  Leif was leaving just like her brother, and
she could feel a familiar pain stirring in her chest. 

The book felt as though it were burning her hands, even as
she continued pretending to hide it from Leif.  There was no need—since he knew
the book was outlawed.  Yet, it felt heavy—as though it were weighting her to
the area.  She wanted to throw it.  She wanted to see her brother again, and
she didn’t want to lose Leif. 

Her chest tightened, and suddenly, she stared into his dark
blue eyes with desperation.  “Take me with you,” she said.  “I want to go with
you.”

The thought hadn’t fully formed when she’d spoken it to
Leif.  The idea of leaving Cathalar had always terrified and tempted her.  Now,
though, when she was no longer deterred by the idea of doing so alone—and with
Leif leaving—it compelled her. 

“No,” he said shortly.

She wasn’t taking that this time.  She wasn’t a little girl
anymore.  “No, I will not take that as your answer.  I know how to wield a
blade and a bow.  The latter probably better than you.  I can dress myself as a
boy.  I want to go with you, Leif.  Perhaps I can…”

Leif gritted his teeth and looked away from her.  He knew
enough about her life to know that saying no to her would hurt her severely,
but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to say no to her.  She would have to
wield her feelings and words carefully.  “No,” Leif answered, “this is not
turning into a wild goose chase to find your brother!  If he is there, I will
find him.  I don’t need you.”

“I want to go!  I need to be away from my father and Ryo.  I
am going mad here, and I know that where I should be is with you—fighting.” 
Her words implored him with increased desperation.  He was impressing her with
how vehemently he refused her.  Perhaps he cared more about her than he’d let
on. 

His dark blue eyes stared into nothingness, and his vulpine
features seemed sharper in contrast with the moonlight.  Leif really was
attractive, but noblemen didn’t care about the women they married—and so she
could never marry Leif.  For living with a man you loved, that did not share
your feelings, was worse than living with a man you hated. 

“I do not care what you want.  I will not have you risking
your life, Aela.  You are a fool.”

“And what if I don’t come with you, Leif?” she asked.  “What
if Telandus has planned a strike against Cathalar and I die here?  How bad
would you feel then?”

One of his eyebrows raised at this question, as if this was
the strangest thing he’d ever heard.  Aela didn’t break from her earnest
expression, though.  “And what if we are discovered in Telandus and you die
there?  I would feel just as bad.”

“Doubtful,” Aela interjected.  “You would most likely be
dead along with me, and thus there would be no guilt to contend with.”  She
phrased her words sensibly, though they frightened her quite wholly.  Dying
prematurely was not anything she wanted to do, but if she had to do it, she’d
rather do so fighting.

“What a morbid way of looking at it,” Leif said
thoughtfully.

She smiled at him, and her eyes glittered with affection
that she’d never let him see before.  She had cards she hadn’t played yet, and
now was the best time to play them.  “I trust you, Leif.  I have waited for a
chance to leave this place, and now I have been given it.”

Leif didn’t seem completely convinced, though her look had obviously
affected him to some degree.  “I… thank you for that, princess.  But you
understand that your father would never agree, and would surely notice your
absence.  He would have me hanged.”

“I would be dressed as a boy—we would be gone before he
realized, and even then, he will have no way of knowing that I went with you
and have not simply disappeared.  When we return, I will ensure he knows you
had nothing to do with it.  My father is a reasonable man!”

Her words were true, though Veyron may be so angry after the
ordeal that he blamed people not involved.  No, she shouldn’t think like that. 
Aela was almost certain that too much would have changed by the time they came
back to Cathalar for it to matter, anyway. 

Yes, certainly when they returned her father would have
bigger things about which to worry.  Spies did not stay in foreign lands for
suns, or even phases.  No, they could be there for years yet.  She was sure
that she did not endanger Leif with her choice.  “Please,” she begged.

Leif’s dark eyes were conflicted, and she couldn’t help
feeling a rush of emotion when she looked at him.  Leaving, being with Leif for
such a long period of time—Aela hadn’t the foggiest idea how she might handle
it.  Yet, she knew that she wanted to find out. 

“I… very well, Princess.  If you can disguise yourself
sufficiently.  I will take care of you.”  He bowed to her as he stood, and his
eyes watched her with admiration and curiosity.

“‘His love of this land is plentiful to restore the
faith of the people, and the faith is all that we require. So said Farthal, the
Magister of Light, the head of Magisters and Men.”

-A Hero’s Peace v.i

Calis had been pretty satisfied with his first, real visit
to Dark District at sun up.  Not only had he managed to find the Kilik boy from
the dance, but he’d actually interacted with the Phantom Blade.  He had not
thought, at the time, that his worry over the state of the former’s well-being
would be such a prominent staple in his mind.

The boy had been less than well when they’d run into one
another.  And they had, actually, run into one another, as Kilik had not been
at all aware of where he was going.  Nevertheless, Calis had thought little of
it.  The boy worked in Dark District, and no doubt did quite a lot of intensive
labor.  That labor could wear on a person in the kind of heat Telandus was
experiencing.

Regardless, while Calis had initially been a little
concerned over the way Kilik stumbled and staggered through the market—that had
been eclipsed upon seeing the vigilante again.  The thought had formed in
Calis’s mind before that sun that Kilik may well be the Phantom, but no
ordinary person could have been staggering about one moment and then making a
fool of armed noblemen the next.

No—Kilik was not the Phantom Blade.  Unfortunately, in
subsequent visits to Dark District, Calis had seen neither the vigilante or his
former dance partner.  They both seemed to be inconspicuously absent from life
in Dark District.  Calis could contribute the Blade’s absence to the lack of
noble’s interference in the district, but he could not say the same for Kilik.

That was the source of his worry, and that worry had grown
so much that it obscured nearly every thought he had.  Even as his father
lectured him on the importance of the court that he would be holding the
following sun.  “Boy, do not fantasize while I am talking to you.  What has
gotten into you?  I understand that you may have done most of the talking in
Dokak—but here, in my land, I do it.  Do you understand?”

Calis was glad he wasn’t having to talk, actually, but he
bowed graciously and offered a wary smile, regardless.  “Apologies, Father,” he
said.  He didn’t bother offering an explanation, as it would no doubt have been
ignored.

Lee would surely know something about Kilik if Calis asked,
though Calis had been a little embarrassed about asking his advisor about a
specific individual.  Never before had he done that, and never before had he
felt so involved in Dark District affairs.  Still, a sickness as extreme as
Kilik’s, accompanied with a sudden disappearance, warranted question enough.

Not that Lee questioned Calis’s motives, and the prince
doubted that he would begin to do so now—but still, for some reason, being so
interested in a simple commoner felt odd.  Nevertheless, to deny he was
interested would have been denying a very obvious fact.  So, he decided as he
watched his father talk—only watched, as he wasn’t sure what was being
said—that he would ask Lee to find out about Kilik.

Once discussion about court had ended, with Calis only
having a vague notion of what the next sun held for him, he bowed and headed
back towards his room.  Lee was across the hall, a luxury that had been granted
to Calis after quite a bit of asking.  Ordinarily, no one was allowed on the
same hall as a member of the royal family. 

Calis wrapped on his door quietly, hoping that Lee would be
in.  While they were close, Lee tended to wander off and be gone for suns at a
time.  To most nobles, this would have been insulting—but Calis found himself
glad that Lee was able to find business of his own to attend.  Another reason
Calis enjoyed Lee’s company—he wasn’t mindless, and he didn’t follow Calis
without reason.  Nor did he follow Calis out of fear.

Fortunately, though, Lee came to the door almost instantly. 
A glimpse inside Lee’s room showed a very simplistic view.  The stone floor was
visible under the red rug in a few places, and the bed was large enough, with
golden and red quilting.  Lee’s desk was the most obvious feature of his room. 
The desk itself was mahogany, but what truly drew the eye were the countless
papers and empty ink bottles littering his desk. 

Calis had no idea what Lee spent so much time writing, but
he certainly spent a lot of time doing so.  Reading, too, as the other
noticeable feature of Lee’s room were the bookcases that lined the right wall. 
“I want information from your sources,” Calis said directly.  He entered Lee’s
room without invitation, and his advisor closed the door once he did.

Lee spoke without further prompting.  “Kilik, which yes,
that is his name, has been ill for the past two cycles.  He’s had a fever.  As
I said, my informant, Katt, is apprenticed to the woman he lives with—the healer. 
They have been tending to him, as he fell ill the sun you saw him in the
district.”

So, perhaps he didn’t give Lee enough credit some of the
time.  Not that Calis had done a good job of disguising who he was interested
in at the dance.  Lee had obviously known, and Calis flushed because he
expected Lee hadn’t.  “Is he alright?” Calis asked warily.

The advisor seemed just a little amused at Calis’s blush. 
“I believe so.  They don’t know what caused it, but he does seem to be
recovering,” Lee answered.  “I was wondering when you’d swallow enough pride to
ask me.”

“You are an ass, my friend.”  There was no denial from Lee,
so Calis walked over to the single window in the room.  Lee’s window had the
same view that Calis’s did, so that he could see to the wall of Dark District
from it.  “Anything on the Phantom Blade?”

Lee shook his head.  “That seems to be the one thing that
none of my sources know anything about.  He has had no need to appear recently,
though, what with all the brouhaha going around in the Shining District.  Are
you prepared for court tomorrow?”

“Please,” Calis said, “I just spent too many shifts of the
sun with my father talking about it.”

Another smirk took hold of Lee’s features as he glanced out
to the wall at which Calis was staring so intently.  “And you used none of
those shifts to listen to him, I’d wager,” Lee said.

That was not anything Calis could deny, and so he simply
laughed.  Not that court was anything that required preparation.  He would meet
and speak with many different women, all of which bored him immensely.  “I do
not want to get married,” he said.

The green eyes of his advisor watched him without comment
for a few moments.  The statement wasn’t one that Calis had ever proclaimed
aloud before, though with Lee’s keen observational skills, he had most
certainly deduced it.  “I don’t blame you,” Lee finally said, “just another
burden, and nearly nothing gained.  No marriage would change our state of
affairs.”  Lee was no doubt speaking about how much all the nobles hated Lavus,
though speaking that directly would have been like driving a knife into his own
chest.

Outside, Calis could see a few nobles walking the wide stone
paths.  The women hung off of the men’s arms like some sort of ornament, with
foolish smiles on all of their faces.  They carried umbrellas and wore lacy
white dresses, entirely impractical.  They were property.  So, to Calis, the
marriage should have been like acquiring a new steed—but he didn’t feel that
way.  “I just don’t understand why the rich insist on it.  Why marry when none
of us consider the people we marry more than a means to an end?  Find another
means.”

“They don’t even pretend to love one another anymore.  The
women are content to be shooed off into some corner to gossip while the men
deal with everything.  The concept is a little unsettling, but not anything you
can change.”  Lee’s words were direct, and they didn’t leave any room for
hope.  His advisor was telling him to accept that he had to get married, and
Calis had been trying to do so for some time.

Glitter from the buildings made of gold and strange red
tapestries reflected into his eyes and made him squint.  He had a sudden
longing for Dark District.  “Do you know what it feels like?  Being in love? 
Do you think the poor do?”

Lee stared at him for a moment.  This seemed to catch even Calis’s
advisor off guard.  They had never discussed many emotions before, not like
this.  Love was like a fairy tale, and Calis knew that as well as he knew that
Lee didn’t care for fairy tales.  “I certainly don’t,” Lee said, but he left
the second question unanswered.

Calis thought back to that dance.  The Soul-Finder dance
that had landed him staring into Kilik’s incredibly blue eyes.  That kind of
game was one nobles would scoff at—letting chance handle that matter would have
been foolish, and emotions should stay even further away from it than chance. 
“You think I ought to just pick one, then?” Calis asked his advisor.

This seemed like an issue from which Lee now wanted to stray. 
“Why are you asking about love?” he asked.  “That doesn’t seem like you.”

“I was curious about it.  The dance in Dark District, some
of the people seemed like they might actually care about each other.  Like
those girls?  They seemed like they weren’t just talking to impress us.”

Lee laughed.  Calis wasn’t sure why, though he found he
wasn’t uneasy at hearing it.  Lee didn’t laugh often, and he certainly never
laughed to mock another person.  The laugh was genuine, but Calis didn’t
understand it.  “If that was what you were looking for, you should have done
more in your excursions to Dark District than look around.  I mean before the
dance.” 

Calis couldn’t have said why he had always avoided talking
to the commoners, maybe because he’d felt as though they were beneath him.  Now
that he had spoken to them, he wondered why he’d ever thought that at all. 
Those girls had been no different than he was, and much more in tune with his
thoughts than the nobles.  And Kilik…

With the thought of Kilik came a frustration that Calis
hadn’t expected.  He had been a fool for ignoring how bad off Kilik had been. 
He should have offered to help Kilik home, and he had intended to.  But the boy
had cut him off before he could say anything, and he was too prideful to press
it. 

Surely, the gesture would have been awkward, though.  Kilik
didn’t want help, clearly, from the way he was shoving anyone who offered to
help away from him.  There had been more on his mind than how ill he felt—and
Calis had no way of knowing what that was. 

“Did you enjoy it?” Calis asked suddenly, remembering Lee’s
presence.

The green eyes blinked, as Lee seemed to have been lost in
his own thoughts as well.  Then, the other man let a strange smile appear on
his lips.  “I’ve always preferred socializing with those from Dark District. 
They certainly are much less annoying than you,” Lee said. 

Calis smiled at the joke, enjoying it for what it was.  He
was lucky in this regard, he supposed.  No one else had the luxury of joking
with their advisor.  On the contrary, Lavus’s advisor looked as though he may
be about to soil his trousers at any moment.  Tareth’s simply seemed to think
the younger Tsrali was an insult to humanity. 

“Indeed,” Calis said.  “Perhaps I could change out my
advisor for a particular commoner.”

“Perhaps if you catch him while he is still delirious with
fever, Kilik will agree to do so.”

The idea struck him like a brick hitting the back of his
head.  There was a pain in his leg from an injury from a sparring session with
Lee a few suns ago.  What better way to solve that than to go speak with a
healer?  A smile took hold of his features.  “Oh, dear,” Lee said mournfully,
“I’ve given you an idea.”

The time that Calis spent unwrapping his ankle and throwing
dirt in it clearly pained Lee.  He kept looking away and informing Calis of all
the bad he was doing to his injury.  When Calis was confident the injury looked
bad enough to merit healing, he started towards Dark District wall.  He had
already changed, so he’d had to take extra precautions not to be seen.  If any
noble saw him in brown hunting clothes—well, he’d never hear the end of it.

Fortunately, he knew the walk to Dark District well, and he
found himself on the other side of the wall without any sort of trouble.  Lee
accompanied him, and though he looked a little disdainful of this idea, he
followed in mostly silence.  “Shall I take you to the healer?”

“That would be lovely!” Calis said, once Lee had broken the
silence he’d been trying to use to get Calis to give up this fool’s errand. 

While he knew that he was being a little discourteous, and
had already told himself that if anyone there was in need of serious healing,
he would excuse himself—Calis was pleased with this idea.  Surely, he would
have the opportunity to see Kilik if he was sick—and lived with the healer. 
Calis made sure to walk with a limp, as gossip spread quickly in Dark District. 
“Won’t Katt recognize you?” Calis asked softly as they walked.

Lee smiled.  “No.  I wear a hood and mask when I correspond
with anyone in Dark District.”

“Oh,” Calis said.  That would make sense, as Lee wasn’t
known for being foolish, and showing his face too often in Dark District would
be just that.  “So, for all you know, she thinks you are the Phantom Blade.”

“The mask is quite different, I assure you,”  Lee said. 
“But I’m not entirely sure that she doesn’t think that.”

The market was bustling with people as usual, and most of
them seemed to be in high spirits.  The trades seemed to be going on without
much fighting, and everyone seemed to be getting what they needed.  There was
an air of freedom within Dark District that Calis could never obtain in the
Shining District.  As they headed down several of the alleyways, Calis found
the buildings that the dance had been held in.

During the sun, they were isolated.  The buildings were
falling apart and not a single soul was near them.  They weren’t used for
anything, it would appear, except holding the very rare festivals that they had
in Dark District.  The buildings were rarities, though, as nearly all of the
dirty shack-like structures were in use to some merchant or commoner.