Divided (57 page)

“I don’t get it,” Calis finally said, shattering the silence
and throwing Taeru from his reading with incredible force.  “These books say
that the Light is only used for good, and yet the Magisters use it to destroy?”
he asked.

Taeru wondered momentarily if Calis had been reading his own
thoughts.  He twitched a little at the thought.  The last thing he needed was
someone who could affect him as much as Calis—and read his thoughts.  Lee
answered him.  “The Magisters use the Light to manipulate things.  The Light
deems the means worthy, and then it is used to cause necessary destruction.”

Calis always said that Lee could have been a scholar, and
Taeru hadn’t believed it until recently.  Lee seemed intelligent on every
issue.  Not just social, not just religious, and not just practical—he understood
everything with an in-depth knowledge that could only be formed from years of
learning.  Yet, he had been with Calis as his advisor most of his years. 

Once they had gotten through enough of the books so that
they all felt like they could have written books of their own on how the Magisters
worked—they went to work determining the identity of the Magister.  This
process was the much more tedious one.  The reading had allowed time to pass
quickly, but searching made it drag.  “We’re running out of sun,” Aela offered
quietly.

A few of the Magisters’ names, and their motives, flashed
before Taeru’s eyes.  He could think of a few that the voice in his head may
have been.  None of them were considered of the Light by Telandus standards.  Being
from Cathalar, however, Taeru believed that all of the Magisters held a
property of holiness that could not be contested.  He hoped that Telandus was
correct for once, though. 

You know all you’re doing is dragging these innocent
people into this?  You’ll only make their deaths worse in the end.  You’ve
already sentenced so many to death—why do you continue this?  Even your own
sister?  Pathetic, little prince…

The voice took him by surprise, and though he’d been about
to speak, hearing the whispers in his ears destroyed all words.  He twitched,
and he tried not to listen, but the voice was there, and there was little he
could do to ignore it.  They had involved themselves, he repeated over and
over, in his mind.  He was determined to keep being useful to Calis and the
others.  They had come out here for him.

You can’t fight it, Taeru.  You’re not strong enough. 
Your mind is so frightened.  You can’t protect yourself any more than you can
protect your stupid friends.  Not that the prince will want your help… not once
he discovers who you really are, traitor.  Then, after he tortures you… he’ll
make you watch your sister die.  You fool.

No, no, Calis would not do that.  This was wrong.  He knew
Calis.  He trusted Calis, and he knew that—if nothing else—Calis would not
intentionally cause him so much harm.  Calis cared about him—that much was
obvious.

Now.  When you are nothing more than a commoner… perhaps…

Then, when he opened his eyes, he was alone.  He was no
longer in the farmlands of Telandus, but he was standing in that grove.  Many
more of the plants had died since his last visit, and some bits of dried blood
stained the flowers.  The sky was a putrid red, and his throat knotted as he
looked around.  Where was he?  Why was he here?  Then, he saw the black
obelisk.  It had grown again, and it was much taller. 

It was taller than any of the trees surrounding it.  The
purple crystal along the sides of it had opened, and it hung there, like some
sort of peeled fruit.  The center was a long black rod, one that was twisted
around the edges with tendrils and other things—things that looked very much
like barbs.  Taeru swallowed, and he stepped away from it.  When he did, though,
he slammed into someone.

He turned to face his obstacle and was looking into the eyes
of Calis Tsrali.  Though, they weren’t their usual blue-green.  No, they were
red.  They were red, and they were glaring at Taeru as if he’d committed a
crime.  “Go.  You put that thing here.  Go face it, you lying bastard.”  Calis
shoved him towards the black abomination. 

“Calis,” he begged.  “I never meant for this.  I would never
have brought this on knowingly.  I was just trying to…”

A look of black anger twisted onto Calis’s face, and he
shoved Taeru towards the black monstrosity again.  When Taeru fought him, his
fist collided hard with Taeru’s jaw.  The blow sent Taeru sprawling to the
ground.  When he glanced up, there were the bodies of his family, of Aela and
Ryo and Veyron.  They were all laid out before him, and he was the reason. 
“The war is inevitable.  Because you’re too stupid to figure out how to stop
it.  You keep wanting to pawn off your responsibilities on others,” the
red-eyed Calis sneered. 

Taeru’s heart hammered and he tried to stagger back
upright.  “Just stop,” he snarled.  “I can stop this.  Just let me try.”

“You had your chance,” Calis said venomously.  “You
squandered that like a child.”  This time, his fist slammed into Taeru’s
abdomen, and somehow it drew blood.  Taeru coughed blood onto the flowers below
him.  “After everything I did for you, you lied to me.  I will very much enjoy
watching you burn.”  Calis shoved Taeru backwards again.

The terrifying part of it was that he could feel the
tendrils waiting for him—waiting for him to step just a pace closer.  They
wanted to grab him, and they wanted to pull him along that rod.  The Magister
had said that was his grave.  “D-do I go there?  If I let it have me, will it
stop the war?” he asked weakly.

“Yes, traitor. Go to it.  Perhaps you can still save us. 
You’ve done enough damage already.  Stop fighting it and just accept it.”  A
blow crashed across Taeru’s face again, and as he staggered back, a tendril
snaked around his ankle.

The moment the thing grabbed him, he knew he should do
this.  He had to try to talk to the Magister.  This wasn’t Calis—though it
could be if things continued on this path.  He frantically pulled against the
tentacle.  “Listen to me.  Tell me how to fix this.  Tell me… I’ll stop this
war!  You can’t do this.  There isn’t a war yet!  I read the words.  You can’t
do this.  People have faith, and compassion.  Stop!”  The Calis apparition
slammed a boot into his face, though, and he whimpered.

The tendril was pulling him closer and closer to that
terrifying obelisk.  “Please, don’t!  Calis!” he yelped.  He begged the
creature for help, somehow still maintaining that the Telandan prince would
help him.  But those eyes were not Calis’s.  Still—it was all he had.  Tears
burned in his eyes as the black coil wrapped around his waist.  His fingernails
dug into the dirt, but he couldn’t fight against the pull.  He scrambled as
hard as he could, but his entire body felt like it was being crushed.  “Calis! 
Please!  I’m sorry!  I’m so sorry!”  He reached desperately towards the
apparition that was fast disappearing.

His breath came in short bursts, and every sensation in his
body changed into agonizing pulses.  He felt sick, and abruptly, blood bubbled
from his mouth without reason.  He cried out, desperate for anything that might
help him.

Even now, you can’t be bothered to defend yourself. 
Waiting for someone to come help you.  What a weak child you are. 

The words struck him like a physical blow.  He couldn’t depend
on Calis, not after everything.  How could he expect forgiveness?  He had to
find a way to end this nightmare without anyone’s help.  He clawed wildly,
though the tendrils squeezed tighter around his waist, and his body threatened
to convulse.  His body hurt.  It hurt more than he had thought it was possible
to hurt.  But the Magister spoke the truth.  He had to do this himself.  His
fingers minced desperately into the ground, and he managed to pull his body a
little ways forward before he was yanked back.

He was at the obelisk, and his tears were so impossible to
fight that he didn’t bother.  He struggled, fighting for as long as he could
until the vines finally yanked him back against the rod, which sent so much
pain through him that he could feel his consciousness slipping.  There was a
hand on his chin, though, forcing him to look up, and then he saw it.

A woman with long, white hair that spilled down behind her. 
Her eyes were yellow, glaring at him, and on her red lips there was a twisted
grin.  Her entire body seemed a twist of vines and roses.  Her hand, the one on
his chin and cheek, was covered in thorns that pierced his skin.

So easy to manipulate.

Kilik!

The scene vanished, though Taeru could still feel the hand
on his chin and the rod pressed against his back.  Panic caused his heart to
pound, and his eyes forced themselves open.  He felt as though he’d swallowed
water, and he choked on it as he blinked his eyes.  There was someone there—someone
was holding him.  Calis.

“No,” Taeru choked.  He couldn’t take any more of Calis’s
kindness.  Not after that.  Not after what he’d seen.  “Don’t touch me.”

Calis’s eyes narrowed, and instead of releasing Taeru as instructed,
he brought the boy against his chest.  Here the Telandan prince was again,
whispering words that were so filled with gentleness and compassion that Taeru
felt sick.  Taeru was lying.  He didn’t deserve this.  “Stop.”  He glanced down
to his hand, noting with dismay that it was bleeding.  Only when he moved to
speak again did he realize that it was not his hand—but his mouth—that was
bleeding. 

Taeru pushed angrily at Calis’s hold, but he was weak, and
Calis was holding much more tightly than he ever had before.  Finally, he
collapsed against Calis’s chest.  “I don’t deserve this,” he whispered.  “I
don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” Calis said decisively.  They were on the
ground, in the farmland, and Taeru was trying to untangle his body from Calis. 
Calis must have been supporting him previously, as Taeru had apparently passed
out.  Now Calis was sitting on the ground, holding someone that he didn’t even
know—a liar and a failure.  “None of it matters.”

“It does!” Taeru shrieked.  “You can’t help me anymore. 
None… none of you.”  Somehow, he writhed away from Calis long enough to glance
at his sister and Lee.  They both looked worried, though Aela looked
considerably more so.  Taeru’s voice quaked.  “No more help,” he said.  He
stood up, and his legs shook.  “I was selfish for bringing you all into this. 
I’ve been… I will…”  He whimpered, realizing a moment too late that his legs
were going to fail. 

Calis, though, was there in time to bring him back upwards
so that he never hit the ground.  Taeru squeezed his eyes shut against his
tears.  When he looked into Calis’s eyes, though, he felt dizzy.  They were so
blue—so filled with anguished worry that Taeru didn’t know how he could fix
this.  “Please stop,” Calis whispered.  “Enough.”  Finally, Calis pulled Taeru
to him and the blond man’s lips captured his own without much effort.

Taeru thought for a moment that it wasn’t very romantic, as
his mouth had been bloody a moment ago.  Still, Calis kissed him as though it
didn’t matter.  Then, when he pulled away, he still had that worried expression
and his hand moved over Taeru’s sweat-soaked cheek.  “I’m sorry,” Taeru said.

“It’s this one,” Lee said definitely.  His voice felt like a
knife through the atmosphere.  But he sounded so serious, and so convinced of
himself.  He turned the book to face the rest of them with assurance. 

There she was.  The yellow eyes.  The white hair.  Taeru
could still feel the thorns of her hands on his cheek.  He trembled. 
“Th-that’s… she was…”

“Aleia,” Lee informed him, “the Magister of Manipulation. 
Or, as she is known in Cathalar, the Magister of Direction.  I’d say our word
is more correct, though, as she seems to be twisting every feeling Kilik has
into a weapon.”

Why had Lee mentioned Cathalar?  Taeru’s heart sank, but
Calis kept holding him against his chest.  Calis was whispering, and though
Taeru didn’t know what he was saying—the Cathalari felt safer, in spite of
himself.  Aela watched him, and there was a changed look in her eyes.  She
seemed complacent, and for a single moment, as she regarded Calis.  She did not
hate him.

“Love’s only question is ‘what can I do?’ and so that is
what he asked.”

-A Hero’s Peace v.ii

Lee didn’t usually spend much time washing.  He’d worked out
a way to get as clean as possible, while minimizing the time he spent in the
bath.  The whole place lacked a certain privacy.  After all, servants were
constantly wandering in and out and dropping off things they thought you
needed.  He didn’t like—though he couldn’t deny that warm water did do a fairly
good job of easing his mind.  And his mind needed a lot of easing, at the
moment.

The thought had started slowly, as an inquiry that he’d
vowed to look into.  He hadn’t thought anything would come of it once he
started digging further, but oh, plenty had come of it.  The little red-haired
girl, Katt, may have held back that she knew who the Phantom Blade was, but in
this area—she was as curious as he.  His heart hammered as he sat, staring
blankly at the water, and trying to get his mind to give him a logical solution
to his.

This had not been anything with which he’d expected to deal. 
His whole body felt sick at the idea of it.  He’d discovered the truth, and now
he was having to handle it.  He’d never thought he would curse his
curiosity—but on this sun, he did.  Though, perhaps it didn’t really matter
much.  Perhaps he was overthinking it.  Calis constantly told him that he
overthought things, and he’d always dismissed the prince until now.

Oh, Lee envied Calis.  Despite the fact that the prince had
to deal with the constant strain of his father’s expectations, Calis seemed to
have found a balance.  Somehow, he was managing to ignore the world around him
and focus on the singular thing that he wanted to accomplish.  That goal was a
rather large one too, and Lee knew that he ought to be more focused on it. 
Aleia.  The Magister of Manipulation.  It would make sense that she laid the
curse, that she had never expected the deal to be broken—but she would
manipulate events so that the deal would break on her terms.

The whole idea didn’t seem fair, and Lee had been looking
into that as well.  Aleia was a Magister, and she ought to be held to some
sorts of standards.  What he didn’t know—was if her manipulation allowed her
certain leniencies or not.  Surely the Light didn’t work that way.  Yet, Lee
hadn’t been able to focus on that particular string of thought.  No, he’d been
entirely occupied by a newer one. 

Lee had always cared about Calis—certainly not in a romantic
sense, but Calis had been very much like a brother to him.  They had been
friends when they were children, and Calis had been the only reason Lee hadn’t
found some reason or another to get himself exiled.  Friends—that was what they
were, and they always had been.  And because they were friends, and Calis
worked hard to ensure that Lee remained his friend—Lee wanted to do the same
for Calis.  Though, until now, the issue of protecting Calis had never come up.

Of course, Lee had always covered for Calis when he’d gone
out on walks when they weren’t allowed.  Lee had never wanted to betray Calis for
any reason.  He had no reason to do so because he trusted his advisee with
everything in him.  Unfortunately, because of that trust, he found himself
unsure what to do now.  Calis had allowed himself to get drawn into things that
he ought to have known not to be drawn.  Yet, he was there—and Calis had no
intention of leaving.  In ordinary circumstances, Lee would say that was a good
thing.  Calis was clearly happy.

The problem was the foundation that happiness stood on. 
Katt had always been known for being stealthy, and so hanging around Kilik
those extra few moment had not been noticed.  She had watched him like a bird
of prey, trying to determine what he did with his time.  Aside from the fact
that Kilik had nightmares, though, there was obviously another piece of
information that he guarded.  Calis knew it—Lee knew it, and yet no one could
determine what that piece of information was.

Until now.  Now Lee knew precisely what Kilik was trying to
protect.  He had done a fairly good job of it.  But the relationship with Calis
had finally pushed him into vulnerability.  Kilik was the Lassau prince.  The
one that had vanished from Cathalar all those years ago.  Now, Taeru Lassau was
in Telandus, and he had been for quite some time.  Not only that, but Calis was
spending time with him—Calis was in love with him!

Lee hadn’t been able to determine if there was any malice
lurking behind the discovery.  Kilik—or Taeru—had never tried to convince Calis
to let him into the castle.  In fact, he’d even discouraged the relationship. 
If Lee wasn’t mistaken, he’d seen Taeru flinch away from information about the
royal family.  Guilt.  Lee had noticed it when he’d first met the Lassau
prince.  Guilt drove him.  Most of his choices were derived from feelings of
guilt.  He felt an undue responsibility to help those around him—even people in
Telandus.

Why?  Lee wondered.  Taeru had no obligation to this
kingdom, and he ought to know that—being a former Cathalar prince.  Yet he
worked to keep the people within Dark District happy, and if Lee’s sources
served him correctly, he had actually succeeded.  Dark District was, well,
flourishing.  The people seemed happier, less afraid.  In retrospect, Lee had
always known that Telandus would fall when the war happened. 

Still, though, knowing that his friend was ingratiating a
Cathalar prince worried him.  Despite the fact that Taeru had done nothing but
good, and he had shown no signs of being untrustworthy—aside from withholding
this bit of information—Lee worried about Calis.  If Taeru did turn out to be a
fraud, then Calis would have his heart shattered into a million pieces.  He
ought to tell his friend what he’d learned, and yet he’d found himself unable
to do so.  Oddly enough, he’d developed a sense of loyalty and concern for Taeru. 
The boy was obviously trying to do what he could for both lands, and when Lee
had his informants investigate the boy that had recently become involved in the
Magister plot, he’d been further convinced.

The informant talked of a book, and he said each time he saw
the boy, the boy was desperately trying to decipher the book.  As if every sun
the book changed, and every sun the boy had to retranslate it.  Lee wanted that
book, and yet he wasn’t going to stoop so low as to steal it.  Taeru surely
knew about the book.  Why else would he have let the boy get involved?

That was another thing Taeru had failed to mention to
Calis.  Perhaps the book contained information about who he really was.  He
obviously didn’t deem it intelligent to explain to Calis who he was.  Because
of that, Lee didn’t know if he ought to explain it either.  If their
relationship was real, and using available evidence, Lee was inclined to say
that it was—then to tell Calis before Taeru was ready would destroy it.

Calis would certainly feel more betrayed if he learned the
information from someone other than Taeru.  At last, Lee let out a breath as he
made his decision.  He wouldn’t tell Calis, not for some time.  After all, he
owed it to Calis and Taeru to let the two of them sort it out on their own. 
Calis understood that there was a past, and he knew that he would have to deal
with it.  That ought to be enough for now. 

Pulling himself out of the wash, he pulled on the clothes
that one of the nosy servants had brought in here.  The clothes were a little
itchy, and a very bright green.  He’d actually informed his mother and father
that he liked the color green, and naturally, they had taken to finding every
bright piece of green clothing they could find.  He ought to appreciate them for
trying to please him, despite the fact that he very rarely tried to please
them—but the brightness of the greens was very off-putting.

Now, he should focus on trying to get his hands on the book
Aelic seemed so interested in.  Why did no one seem to understand that he would
be able to comprehend these things much better than other people?  Aelic, for
his part, though, didn’t trust Calis or Lee as far as he could throw them.  And
judging from his size, that was not very far at all.  Lee probably also ought to
focus on determining more about this Magister.  She’d clearly placed that
obelisk in the grove to exact her power on the lands when the deal was broken.

Taeru seemed to think that a curse had been put on him, and
Lee was very inclined to believe that.  He had now seen firsthand the bruises
that formed on Taeru’s face as he slept, and Lee was certain that nothing but a
curse would cause such things.  The only problem was determining why the Magister
of Manipulation would place a curse on Taeru Lassau.  At first, Lee had thought
it was because he was a quick-witted prince in the land of his enemies.  That
sort of person ought to be easy to manipulate, but as he’d watched these events
unfold—he found that the Magister seemed bent on hurting Taeru, destroying him
even.  Whatever the Magister wanted, Taeru was not going to be the one to cause
it. 

Lee headed from his own house, moving to the castle.  Calis
had left to Dark District earlier, and Lee had promised to stay behind to
formulate some sort of alibi for anyone that asked.  He had noticed, recently
though, that fewer people asked him.  Another issue that had been keeping his
mind from the Magister.  Why had people become less interested?  Or had they
become more interested?  If Calis was being followed, then Taeru would be in
more trouble than either of them could comprehend.

Ordinarily, Lee would have worried about Calis.  Lavus would
certainly punish Calis if he knew what the prince had been up to, but the one
who would feel the most of the wrath would be Taeru.  That, in itself, though,
would tear Calis apart worse than any disownment or whipping could ever hurt. 
Lee winced at the idea.  He should have been paying more attention to the
servants. 

Lavus wouldn’t stoop so low as to spy on his own son, though. 
He was much too filled with self-importance to engage in such a practical
task.  No, he would have involved servants, trying to get other people to get
the information for him.  And, Lavus would obviously not want anyone to know
that his son was being less than perfect, so he would be very careful about who
he chose for the job.

As Lee entered the castle, his mouth began to twitch.  There
were several possibilities.  Lavus had plenty of trusted servants that were not
nobles, though they had come to hold Lavus’s favor.  Someone trusted.  Lee
would have to get someone to monitor the influx of Dark District—and if any new
servants or nobles were coming and going, then he ought to hear about it.  It
might be a tad difficult, with all the louts that entered and went with the
intention of terrorizing the commoners.

Lee had a bad taste in his mouth at the thought.  As he
walked along the castle courtyard, a shuffling off to the side broke his train
of thought.  Oddly enough, that hadn’t been very hard to do lately.  The person
who approached was dressed in a grey tunic, with a hat that would have been
strange if this hadn’t been the courier. 

For a moment, Lee wasn’t sure that the courier was going to
speak.  He seemed a little out of breath, but Lee knew that couriers spent
nearly all of their time running from place to place.  This couldn’t have been that
much of an errand.  “I think I have a message for you” the man finally gasped. 
This was especially odd, Lee thought.  Couriers rarely sought him out—mostly
because he had so few dealings with people.  And Calis was just not the courier-using
type.  He always insisted on doing things himself.  Even stranger was that the
courier said he
thought
he had a message for Lee.  That was the kind of
thing, Lee thought, that ought to be verified.

“You think?” he asked dryly.

The man offered a wary nod.  His eyes traced Lee, as if they
were trying to convince himself that he hadn’t made a mistake.  “I was told to
find someone wearing green, and someone who seems aloof and disinterested in
the people around him.  You are the only one here that fits that description,
sir.”  That was a pretty fair description of Lee.

Without speaking, Lee affirmed the courier’s suspicion with
a nod.  “What is the message, and who is it from?” he said inquisitively. 
Well, Lee was glad to have something else to focus on for a moment.  His mind
had been so filled with intensity that even he had to admit he was getting a
little overwhelmed by it all. 

“It ah…”  The man seemed beside himself.  Whatever he said
next was either going to shock Lee, or make him laugh.  People always got so
worked up about things in the Shining District.  Whereas, Dark District handled
kidnappings as if they were part of setting sun tea.  Lee quirked his eyebrow
to urge the man to finish.  “It’s from Dark District, sir.  They would not
identify themselves, but they tipped well—and promised me that you would
understand.”  The man extended a small slip of parchment, folding into sixteen
different sections.

The only person Lee knew who bothered to fold paper so much
was his best informant, Katt Manali.  Though, the fact that she had risked a
courier between the two of them, especially when she didn’t know his name, was
curious.  She ought to feel blessed that she’d found a courier willing to
attempt her daring request.  “She must have tipped
very
well,” Lee said
sharply.  The man just nodded.

With another nod, he dismissed the courier, who was quick to
scurry into the distance.  He’d obviously been wondering if he was going to
survive the encounter without severely offending someone.  The note was simple
and in handwriting that was not altogether distinct.  “I have something for
you.  This moon.”

A place or a time wasn’t specified, which was why Lee didn’t
mind working with Katt.  She pretended to be airheaded, and yet she seemed to
understand the ins and outs of their dealings better than any of his other
informants.  She had never called a meeting on her own before, and so his
curiosity burned within him.  He was crestfallen at the idea that he had to
wait until the sun set.