Divided (58 page)

Lee pocketed the slip of paper, and he continued heading
into the castle.  From what he observed, none of the nobles had deemed his
interaction with the courier worthy of attention.  That was the blessing of
operating without Calis—he received so much less attention.  Calis, however,
was the center of attention in the Shining District.  That had always been why the
prince preferred the Dark.  And now he might not even have that privacy there.

Lee headed into his room at the castle.  This room—as he did
have his own room within the walls, since all advisors of the royal family had
them—was much more his own than the room at his family’s estate.  Lee’s parents
had an unprecedented need to understand him—and on more than one occasion, they
had found ways to get into his room and bestow gifts upon him that he needed
nor wanted.  Not wanting to go through the emotional frustration of upsetting
them, he’d kept most of it.  Therefore, the room that he stayed in at his
parents’ estate was not exactly pacifying to his mind.  This one, however,
was.  Calis had made no demands on him about the look and feel of his room, and
so the decisions had been left entirely up to Lee.

The moment he entered the room, he used the small torch
against the wall.  He removed the paper from his pocket and dropped it into the
small, black circle that held the flame.  Once the parchment had crumpled into
a black ash, burning softly for a moment, Lee extinguished the flame and moved
to his bed.  Unaware of when Calis was going to return, he wasn’t going to wait
for him.  That had only led to immense frustration in the past.

Rather, Lee occupied himself with a few of the books that
he’d kept about the Magisters.  He needed information on Aleia, because even if
Kilik was a Cathalari prince, he needed help.  Lee had decided to help Taeru,
even if it meant betraying Calis’s trust through omission. If Lee’s assumption
proved correct—and that was highly likely—Calis’s affections for the young man
would supersede any political attachment, and that meant that letting Taeru die
was not an option. 

What could a Magister want, though? 

Taeru obviously wanted to stop the war, and that meant that
the Magister wanted the war.  But why did she want it?  What could a Magister
possibly gain?  Had time just twisted her so badly that she needed the chaos? 
That seemed like a possible solution.  Manipulation was, after all, a precursor
to Chaos.  Though, there was another Magister for Chaos itself.  So, why did
she want this?

Lee spent the rest of the sun reading what he could on
Aleia.  He found nothing of which he hadn’t already been aware.  He had spent a
few years of his life focused on learning about the Magisters, and why there
was a difference in Cathalar and Telandus theology.  The difference had been
solely due to the citizens of the respective nations, though that was to be
expected.  Telandus saw the evil in people, whereas Cathalar maintained that
the universe was inherently good.  Therefore, Telandus had decided that Magisters
could fall, while Cathalar maintained they could not.  Still, when the
investigation had yielded nothing more than idle information, Lee had finally
left it behind to pursue other interests.

Now, though, part of him wished that he’d spent longer.  He
had never really believed that a Magister would involve itself so physically in
the mortal world, nor had he ever suspected that he would be charged with
figuring out a way to eliminate it.  How was he to compete with a deity?  He
let out a breath, and then closed the book that he was reading.  He stowed the
scattered books away, not wanting any curious servants finding what he was
reading.  He always made sure that his desk was littered with uninteresting
nonsense, though—so no one suspected that he hid anything.

As the moon rose in the sky, Lee drifted to his closet to
pull on the deep blue outfit, with the hood that covered his face so completely
that no one would know who he was.  After he was satisfied that he was
unrecognizable, he removed himself from his room.  He thought of knocking to
see if Calis had returned, but then he decided against it.  The conversation
would have been dull, as Calis would have reported to him if anything had been
discovered, and Lee had not found out anything Calis didn’t already know. 
Well, not anything that Lee was going to share.

The walk was one that he’d memorized, though it was not one
he ever walked in the sun.  Though the one he took with Calis while the sun
hung in the sky, to reach the wall of Dark District, was hidden enough—Lee, in
this disguise, didn’t want to be associated with Calis or himself.  Therefore,
he moved along a different path, and one that Calis had never walked, and if
Lee had anything to say about it—he would never walk.  Moving behind buildings,
keeping himself as blended as he could, he made his way to the wall and climbed
over it with expertise only gained from experience. 

Walking to his meeting place, he noticed her before she saw
him.  She was in a brown tunic, with her hair up in a bandana.  For a moment,
he felt a surge of guilt.  He ought to meet her somewhere safer, especially
with the way the nobles paraded about like barbarians, searching for women. 
No, he needed his information, and he couldn’t risk being exposed.  Though, she
was a very good informant, and he’d hate to lose her.

Perhaps he would consider a way to get the information
without forcing her to endanger herself so often.  She glanced to him, and her
eyes brightened.  She had probably been worried that her message hadn’t been
received.  Lee highly doubted that the courier returned to let her know that it
had.  “I was wondering if you’d come,” she said softly.

“I ought to have you killed for having someone approach me
during mid-sun like that.  If I’d known the courier, or he’d known me, I’d have
had to kill
him
.”  Lee wouldn’t, of course, though he would have had to
think up some way to hide his identity from the frightened courier—or ensure
that his identity wasn’t let out.

Katt’s eyes blazed with irritation, and she crossed her arms
and moved her body in a sort of pout.  “I’ve given you enough information.  I
think I deserve the right to know who you are.”  That might be true, but he
wasn’t dealing in the game of fairness.

He offered a quick smirk, and then he tapped his foot.  “Why
did you call me here?”

“I should insist you tell me,” she said, and her eyes
flickered salaciously as she regarded him.  She had recently developed feelings
for this alias, and while that had its advantages, it also made working with
her a bit more awkward.  He never had been good with women.  “I know you’re
handsome.”

“You can’t possibly know that, you’ve never seen my face.” 
He hadn’t the slightest idea why he was responding to this challenge.  He
always responded to her challenges, though, and he hated that his response gave
her a certain power over him. 

She laughed and shrugged her shoulders.  “I think I do,” she
said flatly.  Well, thinking was not knowing, he thought.  Then, he sighed. 
“Fine, I did call you out here, and you came… I appreciate that,” she
whispered.

“You ought to,” he snapped.  For some reason, she laughed
again.  Why was she always laughing? 

“Here.”  She placed the paper into his hand.  When their
hands brushed one another, he found that his own body reacted a little
spastically to it.  His jaw clenched, and his lips pressed into a flat line. 
He didn’t need this. 

With another smile, she nodded to him.  Her eyes were alive
with thought, though she wasn’t permitted to say anything aloud, as per their
agreement.  “I am going to find out who you are,” she whispered.  “And then I
am going to seduce you.”  Her tone was playful, but he felt all kinds of
threatened.

Without bothering to respond, mostly because he didn’t trust
himself to, Lee turned and headed back to the Shining District.  He didn’t have
to look back to know that she was staring at him as he went, and he could feel
her eyes until he ducked out of her sight.  When had she started affecting him
like this?

I have enough distractions right now!  I do not need
another one.  Especially in the form of a small, attractive red-haired girl. 
The last thing I need is a romantic relationship—let alone one with an
informant!

Returning to his room and pushing her out of his mind, he
opened the slips of paper that she’d handed him.  He read them near the torch,
glancing momentarily at the flame.  The words before him were worth the journey.

Aelic is a girl.

She has feelings for the boy she stays with, and he for
her.

Most of it after those two huge revelations were just
updates on the nobles that had entered and left Dark District.  None of them
were out of the ordinary, Lee noted with dismay.  Though, he was sure that
someone was watching Calis.  He’d have to warn the prince, and he’d have to
warn him that he didn’t know who. 

Then, he read the last piece of information scrawled on the
page, and this one was in a red pen.

Lavus knows.  He only knows of the relationship, not of
the participants.

Lee could hear her voice, soothing him, trying to promise
him that they weren’t all about to go out with a fiery explosion.  He had to
find a way to salvage this.  He had to figure out who followed Calis, and how
they had done so without alerting any of his informants. 

Calis needed to know now.

“Aleia grew to hate
the lands that she watched war upon themselves, for none of them understood her
direction unless she disguised it.  So she disguised it.”

-A Hero’s Peace v.i

 “How?” Calis snarled.  His mind was racing.  Lee was
standing before him, but he could hardly focus on his advisor.  Calis had never
felt so much anger, or pain, in his life.  Flickers of Kilik flashed before his
eyes in rapid succession.  As if he hadn’t been torn apart enough by Kilik’s
recent inability to sleep, or do much of anything, without falling prey to the
bloody Magister influencing his mind.  Kilik had been trying harder than ever
to push Calis away, and now Calis found himself worrying that he ought to have
left Kilik alone.  What would Lavus do?  How could he protect Kilik?  He would
find a way.  If he must, he would kill Lavus.  “How did this happen?  By the
Light, this is my fault!”  He slammed a fist into the wall of his room.

Tears unbidden stung at his eyes, and he tried fervently to
ignore them.  He had established a rule long ago that he would not cry in front
of Lee.  He had hoped that he wouldn’t cry at all, but Kilik had taken care of
that.  “It isn’t your fault,” Lee whispered.  “No one knows it’s Kilik.  He
isn’t in danger.  From what I’ve gathered, your father doesn’t want to make a
scene of this.  He’s hoping to convince you without a fight that you have to
cut it off.

Calis shook his head.  It didn’t matter what he said or did
in his father’s presence.  He would be prohibited from seeing Kilik, and if he
ventured out to see the boy—then he would be placing Kilik in unnecessary
danger.  But he would see him again.  He would leave.  He would leave
Telandus.  He’d help Kilik from beyond the city walls.  “I have to see him.  I
have to go.”

“Calis!” Lee snapped.  “Don’t be absurd.  You haven’t even
spoken with Lavus about it.  Stop being impulsive.”

Lee’s advice had never failed Calis before, and he was sure
that he ought to at least calm his father.  Perhaps if he was amiable, then
Lavus would be less likely to pursue him.  Surely, he could dissolve this one
last situation.  Even if he couldn’t, though, it would not matter—not to him. 

A knock at the door caused both of them, even Lee, to jump a
little bit.  When Calis responded, the voice was from a servant that he didn’t
recognize.  “Prince Calis?” the man asked, “your father requests your audience
immediately.”

Lee and Calis exchanged a glance.  This would be it—this
would be his one chance to keep Kilik out of trouble.  He had to handle this
properly, or he’d never get out of the city.  But he didn’t know what he could
say to his father to assuage this.  His fists clenched, and then he started
towards the door.  There was no sense delaying this, as every extra moment
would cause his father another ounce of anger.

Calis had never heard of anger killing anyone, and if it
had, Calis would certainly have tried to use it to kill his father.  But for
now, he had to do this correctly.  He took a deep breath as he reached the
door, and then he put his hand on the handle.  “Wait,” Lee said, “what do you
intend to do?”

“I’m not sure,” Calis said.  “I’m going to try and handle
this appropriately.  But, I don’t know, Lee.  You know how I am when it comes
to my father—I just… I’m not sure what I’m going to say.  But when this is
over, I have to see—you know what I have to do.”

Lee jerked his hand upwards, obviously indicating that Calis
shouldn’t declare that so openly.  That was true, as he’d obviously been
stalked well enough to have his relationship found out.  Though, he was
careless for involving Kilik in that anyway, when he thought about it.  He
should have been smarter.  The idea of anything happening to Kilik felt like a
knife in his chest.  “Calis, I just… don’t say anything that you can’t take
back.”

“Why not?” Calis asked harshly.  Lee wasn’t the type to get
sentimental.  His advisor looked worried, though, and he seemed opposed to
Calis saying anything negative to Lavus.  There had to be a reason for this,
but Calis couldn’t be sure. 

Lee let out a breath, and then he shook his head.  He looked
as though he were trying to shake something free of his mind.  “Just make sure
you aren’t stuck within the walls, without guards up your ass,” he whispered. 
His voice was so soft that Calis strained to hear it.  Calis was confident that
his voice could not have gotten that low if he’d practiced for suns.

Rather than wondering, he just nodded to Lee.  Lee had his
reasons, and so did everyone else.  The problem now was that Lavus knew about
his relationship with Kilik, and it was up to Calis to make sure that Kilik
didn’t pay for his stupidity. 

The walk to his father’s room felt longer than usual.  Words
bubbled and died in his throat.  He thought of drawing his sword and fighting
his father, here, in the castle.  But no, he would never survive.  Despite his
father’s inability to command loyalty to those outside his castle, he did have
a power over the men who lived here.  Calis would die, and he would not be able
to protect Kilik from whatever was ailing him.

No, Lee was right.  Whatever Calis said here had to be
thought-out.  He couldn’t just scream whatever came into his mind.  He had to
be careful, and he had to be smart.  Despite how much Kilik affected him
emotionally, he couldn’t let that guide what he said in this encounter with his
father.

An eternity later, he opened the door to the throne room,
where Lavus had insisted they meet.  The throne room ought not be the most
private room in the castle, but due to Lavus’s influence, it was.  He walked up
to the throne, eyes narrowed, expecting the worst and clenching his body to
handle whatever happened.  “You errant, insolent child!  Do you have any idea
what you have caused?  I ought to have you hanged!”

But you won’t,
Calis thought,
because you need
me. 

He did not react immediately.  Instead, he let his eyes flit
across his father’s face.  Lavus was just as mad as he’d predicted, but Calis
thought he might have a chance if he handled this the right way.  “I have
emotions, Father.  They needed meeting, and you offered me no way of doing
that!”

Lavus’s eyes burned with fury as they regarded Calis.  They
considered his words carefully, though, before he shouted more insults. 
“Emotions?” he thundered.  “And to think I thought you were stronger than
that!”  Then, he laughed.  “A filthy peasant is enough to satiate those
emotions?  If you wanted it, you could have had any man or woman in the
castle—and yet you went to frolic with some street rat!”

Hearing Kilik referred to as a street rat caused a spasm of
anger to run through his body.  He calmed himself, though.  He couldn’t let his
anger get the better of him.  “That street rat…”  He started, and then he
realized that he ought to draw as much attention from Kilik as possible.  “I… I
did not want to ruin any relations with the nobles in the castle.  I thought it
was the only way.”

“You could have sullied our name.  If I had not worked so
hard to keep this from spreading, you would be a laughingstock!  Do you
understand that?  Even now, there are rumors circulating.”  Lavus walked down
the steps commandingly, and then his fist snapped across Calis’s jaw for the
second time in a cycle. 

The muscles within Calis’s jaw flexed, and then he shook his
head to shake off the blow.  He could do this.  He had to do this.  His father,
despite being insane, seemed as though he might be relaxing.  “You are the
crown prince!  If Lady Avyon had found out about your dealings with sewer rats,
then she would surely rebuke you.”

Despite wanting to feign horror at this thought, Calis did
nothing.  His face just kept itself drawn into the same flat, expressionless
mask.  “It wasn’t my intention to offend anyone.”

“You have offended me,” Lavus growled.  “That is the worst
crime that you could possibly commit.”  His voice was sharp, and Calis could
feel the anger bubbling through it.  But it was dying, he thought, slowly. 
Though, he assumed the conversation may be heading for a crescendo that he
didn’t want.

Calis held in his sigh.  He couldn’t express anything, or he
risked Lavus flying off the handle.  He would be placed under arrest, and he
knew it, if he did anything out of line.  He couldn’t be under arrest.  He had
to get back to Kilik.  “For what it’s worth, Father, you have my sincerest
apologies.  I wasn’t thinking.  I just wanted…”

“You just wanted to have fun?  You just wanted to neglect
your responsibilities.  You are turning into your brother!” Lavus snapped. 
Calis winced at the accusation, though he’d love to quote all of Tareth’s
misdemeanors and mention how pathetic it was that Tareth committed them while actively
trying
to please Lavus.  Calis made no such effort, and at least Kilik
was worth it.

Calis took a breath, unable to remain completely
expressionless in such close proximity with his father.  Lavus’s face was in
his own, and he could scarcely breathe without spitting on his father.  The man
had apparently lost all concept of personal space.  “I got used to more freedom
in Dokak.”

“Is it Miss Avyon you have fault with?”

“Of course not,” Calis disagreed quickly.  His heart was pounding
at the question of where this was going.  Lavus had a plan, and he intended to
end this conversation without a doubt in his mind that he’d won.  Calis could
feel dread snaking its way up into his body and mind.  He wanted to hit his
father—he wanted the man before him dead.

Then, panic exploded through him.  What if Lee had outdated
information?  What if Lavus knew precisely who Kilik was and intended to kill
him?  That would ensure that Calis saw the consequences of his actions.  But
no, Calis would kill everyone present before he allowed harm to come to Kilik. 
He would stop this.  “Then, you simply admit to your unruly behavior being
foolish and ill-timed?”

“Yes,” Calis replied sharply.  His breath felt short, and he
wasn’t sure that he wasn’t about to collapse from his heart slamming against
his chest with too much force.  Surely, this wasn’t healthy.  He needed to make
sure that Kilik was alright.

Lavus drew backwards, and his eyes were narrowed into
slits.  Calis met them without thought.  His expression was blank, and he made
sure to keep challenge as far from it as he could.  He had been told that his
gaze was challenging in itself, so he worked to make sure that was not the case
as he stood before his father now.  “And this peasant boy—you feel nothing for
him?  You realize I will force you to cut off contact?”

Calis tried to keep the emotion from his eyes.  He would see
Kilik again, whether his father permitted it or not.  And he forced the lie
from his lips with indisputable certainty.  “Nothing,” he said.  “He was a
means to an end.”

“I ought to find this boy and have him hanged for thinking
he had the right to touch a prince, let alone lay with one.”  Lavus’s eyes
narrowed.  The thought sent so much pain coursing through Calis’s body that he
didn’t know if he could remain standing.

He did, though. 
Don’t react! 
His mind was screaming
at his heart, begging it to heel.  He couldn’t let his father get the better of
him.  Lavus had been unable to get the better of Calis before, and he would not
do so now.  “If you feel that is necessary,” Calis said indifferently.  “I
suppose that would make my life easier.”

This seemed to satiate Lavus.  He smirked as he observed his
son.  Somehow, Calis had managed to take all of his feelings for Kilik and hide
them just beneath the surface of his eyes—his face.  They felt as though they
might strangle him, though. 
I have to protect him.  I have to. 
Their
eyes, father and son, remained on one another for a long moment.

“I suppose it would be lesson enough to him for you to
disappear.  Does he, at least, have feelings for you?”

Calis wasn’t sure of the correct answer to this.  Lavus
wanted to cause Kilik pain, clearly.  So, if Kilik wasn’t punished emotionally—then
physical means would be set out.  No, in this hypothetical situation, Kilik had
to be deeply hurt by the very idea that Calis would not go back to him.  “Of
course he does, Father,” Calis said quickly.  “I think he is in love with me.”

Once again, he’d found the right words.  Lavus’s eyes were
alight with amusement.  Calis was having a hard time breathing, but somehow,
his entirely false words kept spilling from his mouth.  A primal, untapped need
to protect Kilik prevented him from putting his lover in danger here.  “And
people say that noblemen can’t charm peasants.”

Calis was sure that no other man or woman in Dark District,
or the Shining District, could have wooed Kilik like he had.  No one else would
have had the power to overcome all of those barriers.  Calis wanted to scoff.  Instead,
though, he just kept his blank expression.  Smiling would be allowing victory
to sink in too early, and Lavus would react.  “I humbly ask your forgiveness,
Father.  I know what I did is terrible, and I do not deserve any forgiveness at
all.”  He sounded like Tareth, Calis thought.

“I will forgive you, my son.  But, in order to make you
understand your actions, and in order to prevent rumors—and any thoughts
sparking in that fool boy’s head—we shall change the sun of your wedding.”

There it was.  The crescendo that Calis had known he would
hate.  The wedding.  But it didn’t matter.  Kilik was safe, and Calis would not
attend any dreadful wedding.  In a sense, he had won, but he couldn’t let Lavus
think that.  “To when, Father?” he asked softly.

“Next sunrise,” Lavus responded.  That nearly caused Calis
to break.  So soon was absurd, even for Lavus.  He had only a sun, as the sun
had just risen in the sky a few moments ago. 

As badly as he wanted to disagree, to fight, he knew that it
would get him nowhere.  He would agree to this wedding, and he would be gone
before it ever happened.  Most importantly, Kilik would be safe, Calis swore
it.  “That is soon.  Will we have it here?”