Divided (43 page)

A quiet laugh was the only response for a few moments as
they walked.  Calis let out a breath as they entered the first trees of the
small forest.  “I don’t, that is, I don’t like making others unhappy.  But, I
feel like whatever this is between us has just as much chance to end with both
of us unhappy as if we hadn’t done this.  So, there wasn’t any need to worry
about that.”

Calis paused for a moment, and a very profound thought made
its way into his mind.  “Do you, Kilik?  Do you truly believe that this could
make me unhappy?”

A pause.  Just a long enough pause for Calis to know that
Kilik didn’t, in fact, think that Calis might end up unhappy at the end of
this.  No, Kilik would never do anything to threaten another person—only to
threaten himself.  If only he knew.  “I don’t… I don’t know.”

Listening to that voice, a frightening thought made its way
into Calis’s mind.  He quickly dismissed it, for the repercussions of it would
be vast—and he should not be feeling it at all.  “Fair enough, Kilik.  I won’t
try to convince you otherwise, lest you leave.”

“You haven’t said much about your family,” Kilik said
weakly.  “N-not that you have to.”

Calis smiled and then shook his head.  “Why is it that
everything you say or do is so ludicrously endearing?”

Naturally, that very slight red tint returned to Kilik’s
cheeks.  “What?”

Rather than elaborating on his statement, Calis decided to
oblige the request.  “My family is… well… I don’t… much care for my family.  My
mother is… motherly enough.  You know enough about Tareth to know that no sane
person could ever like him, and my father… is, in short, a monster.”

Kilik was thinking again, which meant that he wasn’t looking
at Calis.  He was hyper focused on the path before him—or he seemed to be as
they walked.  “Why do you sound so distant?  They are your family, surely you
don’t feel so little for them?”

The words should have felt accusatory, as Kilik seemed
rather surprised at Calis’s lack of family life, but oddly enough, they
didn’t.  They felt curious, and somehow worried.  “My family dinners consist of
cowering while my father picks and chooses the intervals that he wants to
talk.  The few times I’ve expressed opinions in front of him—he openly
humiliates me.  Though, that’s a matter for debate, as most of those times, I
was right.  Still, he made a fool out of me in his own way.”

Calis was sure that he’d already said too much about his
family, but for some reason, in this clearing, with the serenity reigning down
on him—and Kilik, in all his innocent wonder, standing nearby—Calis kept
going.  “Then, there is how he treats Tareth.  I am not a fan of Tareth, and I
have made an effort to not be involved in my brother’s life.”  Though, their
recent exchange had left Calis feeling a little guilty, if satisfied.  “My
father tried to create a wedge between my brother and I from the start.  He
insults Tareth at every turn, and even while Tareth attempts to appease Father,
and I show no interest—he pits us against one another and makes me look like
the ideal son.”

Kilik seemed to be thinking about something, though he was
very clearly listening with intent to every word Calis spoke.  His eyes were
paler with the light of the moon reflecting off of them, and the emotions in
them were even easier to read.  Kilik
was
concerned.  “The ideal son?”
he asked, and his voice sounded distant.

“Yes, my father pretends that everything I touch turns to
gold.  I will not go as far as to say that I am not charismatic, and what I did
in Dokak was nothing short of a miracle, but I have made my fair share of
mistakes.  I show disinterest in court, and Tareth attempted to ridicule me for
it—but my father said that I ought to be behaving that way, that having
feelings for someone would hinder the ultimate goal of power.”  Calis scoffed,
jerking his head away and willing his mouth to stop talking.  This didn’t need
to continue, and now Kilik knew more about court than Calis wanted him to.

The passage of silence sent a chill of worry through Calis,
until he looked up to find the blue eyes regarding him with that same
gentleness.  “I am aware that nobles are not supposed to marry for feelings,
but rather, position.  But I have never heard of anyone discouraging feelings
for your partner.”

“Now you have,” Calis said blackly, “my father.”  His fist
clenched at the memory.  What right had his father had to assert that?  Had he
only said it to drive Calis and Tareth further apart?  No, he had meant it.  “The
sad part is, my father believes that.  He’s already succeeded in driving Tareth
and I so far apart that we will never be close.  Now he need only say what he
thinks.  Tareth just lets him impose his will, I don’t.”  Calis claimed not to,
and yet, he hadn’t openly told Lavus that he would not marry Lady Avyon.

Then again, doing so would only bring wrath down upon his,
and possibly Kilik’s, head.  He would have to wait for the right opportunity to
refute the marriage.  He would find that opportunity.  “Why did Lavus want
Tareth and yourself to be enemies?”

“Because if we became close, then we might work together to
conspire against him.  He never said as much, obviously—but the servants, and
other nobles, talked, and while Tareth might not be bright enough to make the
conclusion, I was.”  Tareth was far too absorbed in whatever it was he did to
notice Lavus’s foolishness.  He believed everything their father said,
practically.

“You ought to have tried to be friends with your brother,”
Kilik whispered.  The words were touched with a pang of such genuine sincerity
that Calis almost regretted that he hadn’t worked just a little harder to be
Tareth’s ally.

Then, though, Calis laughed.  “I did, Kilik.  I tried very
hard to close the gap between us.  As time progressed, though, Tareth just
pulled further and further away.  He involved himself in things that I wanted
no part of.  Even before I left for Dokak, he was coming into Dark District and
making trouble.”

This seemed to be something Kilik understood easily, after
all, he and Tareth had more than a few run ins under their belts.  “I saved a
woman from him,” Kilik said softly.  “She isn’t quite right, but she claims
that he raped her.  He kidnapped her off the street, and she claims that he
raped her!” Kilik was in a frenzy at the idea.

Calis had never heard of his brother raping anyone, and he
was positively disgusted at the idea.  Still, it didn’t seem that much of a
stretch.  Tareth was, after all, always close with women.  He seemed absurdly
close to all of them, and Calis knew that he took servants from Dark District
when he claimed they had broken the law.  Tareth was corrupt, to say the very
least.  “I would not discount your friend’s story,” Calis said.  “I have no
proof, but my brother is like my father in that he needs power to live.  He
gets none from Lavus, as my father has given it all to me—or is trying to, so
he needs to find it elsewhere.”

Kilik looked agitated as he looked at Calis.  “You ought to
make sure he isn’t!” he snapped.  That would have been nearly impossible, as
Tareth may have been unobservant, but he wasn’t so stupid as to air that he had
to resort to commoners for his sexual needs. 

Still, those blue eyes were rather difficult to resist.  “I
will see what I can do,” Calis said.  “On that note, I wanted to mention…”  He
hadn’t known when he’d find the right time to tell Kilik this, but now seemed
as good of a time as any.  After all, the sooner the young man was made
aware—the sooner he could take advantage of it.  “My brother’s sun of birth was
a little over a cycle ago.”

Kilik didn’t seem to understand how this affected him.  For
a singular moment, Calis thought that Kilik might think Calis meant for him to
give Tareth a gift.  Now that was a comical thought.  “Did you get him a gift?”
Kilik ventured.

“Ah, well, yes,” Calis said.  He’d never purchased a gift
for his brother before that sun—not for many years.  Though, the gift he’d
given recently had not been entirely straightforward.  It had been so golden
and so shiny that Tareth immediately felt empowered in its presence, as Calis
had wanted.  “I got him a golden amulet, with a ruby in the center.”

Once again, Kilik seemed entirely unsure where this was
going.  This must have all seemed rather random to him.  “That was nice.”

Calis laughed a little at Kilik’s forced civility.  “Not
really.  The ruby is a trigger.  If pressed and pulled down just slightly, the
golden chain will release several tiny pinpricks, and his neck will feel like
it is being bitten by several tiny insects—lots of tiny spikes.  Then,” he
thought amusedly of Lee’s rigging of the amulet, “when the wearer yanks the
necklace off, the chain holding the clasp will break, and once that happens,
there is a liquid inside of it that will spray outwards as a mist, and destroy
the eyes of anyone who looks at it.”

The words seemed rather cruel, and Kilik’s widening eyes
were further confirmation that the gift had been a little more vicious than
intended.  Calis couldn’t bring himself to regret it, though, and so he
continued before Kilik could question.  “I wanted it to be there.  In case he
ever… in case… you two were ever alone, and I couldn’t help you.”  To think too
seriously about it would be to possess Calis to murder his brother now. 

Surely there would never be a use for the trigger, but with
Kilik, Calis found that he’d risk his brother going blind in an accident to
ensure that Kilik was not hurt in any way.  “Y-you gave him that—to protect
me?” Kilik sounded awed.

“Ah, yes,” Calis answered awkwardly.

“That was absurd!  What if it triggers prematurely?  You’d
blind your brother for no reason!”

“I realize that,” Calis admitted guiltily, “but I’d prefer
that than to know you were forced into some position with him… I just… I can’t
let anything happen to you.  You don’t understand how agonizing that would be
for me.”

“You are…”  Kilik was staring at him as if Calis had just
announced that he was not of this world.  The gift had been unruly, but
necessary.  Calis had been so preoccupied with Kilik’s safety lately that
everything related to it.  Imagine, a boy that he’d only met a few cycles ago,
having this much effect on what he did and thought!  “That was unnecessary! 
You would risk that…”

Calis let out a long breath.  He hadn’t expected Kilik to
take the news well, though he’d expected a larger time frame between when he’d
given the gift and when he told Kilik of it.  Then again, there was a sense of
relief at the fact that Kilik would have that extra defense.  “I would risk
much more than that.”

“You would be labeled treasonous!”

“Possibly,” Calis acknowledged.  Though, he wasn’t sure how
Lavus would react to Calis so deliberately sabotaging Tareth.  Surely, he
couldn’t have said that was alright.  Surely, Calis would be punished for the
deed.  If nothing else, he would be punished by Claudia.  “Promise me you’ll
remember it, if you ever need it—and I pray that you don’t.”

“I-I promise,” Kilik said weakly.  He was very clearly
unsure what else he could say.  He couldn’t very well refuse the offer when
Calis had already put himself at risk.  Besides, Tareth had more than earned
this punishment.

Calis quirked an eyebrow.  “What happened to the boy a few
moments ago telling me that I ought to ensure that Tareth wasn’t hurting
anyone?”

Kilik let out a breath of his own and looked away.  “Well, I
didn’t mean in such a violent fashion.  And I am the only one who knows about
it.  You were only looking to protect me—no one else.”  Kilik wavered on the
last word, as if he’d just grasped what he was saying and was profoundly struck
by it.   

“Forgive me, but I find that you are significantly more
important to me than the average citizen of Telandus.”  They paused then,
before a tree with particularly low hanging branches—a willow.  The leaves
covered the area behind the tree, though a soft blue hue could be seen from the
other side.  Calis grinned at the sight, as he knew precisely what it was. 
“Oh, we’re here,” he said.

“What is—”

Kilik was appropriately silenced as Calis pulled the hanging
branches to the side to reveal their destination.  The place was a meadow, and
in the sun, it looked like little more than just that.  However, this
particular meadow was decorated with blue and white flowers, none of which
Calis knew the name and all of which glowed in the dark. 

The meadow was already alight with the soft, pale blue of
the flowers, mixed with the fluorescent whites.  The pale moonlight had been
falling down through the trees on their journey, though it hadn’t been bright
enough to change the dark blue of the sky.  But here, the light fell in cascades
through the branches of the trees that surrounded the meadow, and the hue of
the flowers gave the sky a royal blue tint.

The grass was lower, decorated primarily with the glowing
flowers, but the other parts were decorated with softer, white flowers—with
powdery looking petals.  Lastly was a small pond in the center, which reflected
all the colors like a sparkle-imbued mirror, and at the right angle, the moon
reflected a broken form of itself in the water. 

But rather than focusing on the surroundings, as Calis
normally would have done, and had done every time he’d come here since he’d
found the place—he watched Kilik.  The blue reflected off Kilik’s eyes
perfectly, and Calis was sure that if he’d been close enough, and at the right
angle, that he could have seen the whole meadow reflected in them.

For his part, Kilik’s lips were just barely parted, and his
eyes were filled with wonder.  They were wider than usual, and Calis found that
it gave Kilik a very doe-like expression.  Kilik was clearly trying to produce
some sort of sound as he stared at the spectacle, but as the task proved too
difficult, Calis grabbed the young man and pulled him into the meadow.