Divided

by Rae Brooks

  Calis shook his head. “I’m helping as a favor,” he said. “I don’t need pay.”

  “Give him half of mine,” Kilik said brusquely, remaining true to his word despite the anger that seemed poised to destroy Calis. “It’s extra for this sun, as it is.” His words were simple, and though everything else seemed to anger Kilik—this did not seem to particularly bother him.

  The man looked ready to protest, but when Kilik held up a hand, he nodded. Clearly, Kilik’s assurance that Calis was alright had removed most of the man’s animosity. “Have you ever unloaded before?”

  Calis hadn’t, but as he didn’t see any reason to let that be known—he just assured he would be alright. How hard could unloading a few heavy boxes and loads be?

  Turns out, it could be quite difficult. There were designated boxes that each of the objects must go in when they reached the proper location. Even before that, Calis and Kilik were tasked with organizing the shipment so that each load would be ready to unload at the proper stop. That had been a task that Calis had left almost entirely alone, though Kilik seemed to do it without thinking.

  “Make sure to know what you’re throwing before you throw it,” Kilik said, shockingly gently, after Calis flung a bag over the edge and in front of one of the shopkeepers. The man didn’t look particularly unhappy that he’d thrown it, so Calis just nodded absently.

  Calis watched Kilik work as they moved from destination to destination. As he did, he realized that the healer may have been wrong about Kilik. In fact, the boy seemed to work at twice the pace as anyone else Calis had ever seen work. No one who was suffering from any sort of illness would be able to work with such efficient quickness.

  They arrived at one of the last destinations, though Calis found himself dismayed that they were nearly finished and the two of them had exchanged nothing but a few words, and those were to ensure that Calis handled the bags properly.

  This time, though, Kilik nearly tackled Calis as he began to throw one of the bags over the ledge of the wagon. The boy stopped just an inch short, commanding his body with incredible precision and took the bag from Calis’s hands. “Don’t,” he said.

  Instead of explaining, Kilik hopped over the side of the wagon and handed the store owner the bag. The man glanced inside and promptly pulled out a crate of milk. Calis flushed. That would have been an embarrassing mistake. “Obliged, kid,” the store owner said as he checked the rest of the contents.

  “Juliet wanted me to ask if you intend to come see her about your foot,” Kilik said weakly. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to want to have this conversation, despite the friendliness of the air between himself and the shop owner.

  Lycael was looking over the last of their inventory, and seemed pleased with the speed in which they’d finished. He was muttering to himself about two being better than one. “You tell Juliet I’ll come see her about my foot if she promises me a kiss to make it better,” the shopkeeper said calmly.

  Kilik managed a soft laugh and shook his head. “I hope you don’t mean on your foot, Rijit,” he said. The man suddenly broke into a huge smile and shook his head. Then, he raised and slammed his hand across Kilik’s back with no restraint. The gesture was one that Calis had seen often in Dark District. The people here were much less delicate, and so oftentimes exchanged slaps that nobles would have bruised from.

  Though, Kilik did not handle it well. The moment the man’s hand came down against his back, a pained grimace took hold of Kilik’s features. They twisted for a moment, and Calis could hear the intake of breath as the boy made sure not to vocalize his pain. Worry exploded across Calis’s chest at the expression.

  It was not one of ordinary pain, nor was it an indignant expression. The face was pained, and in a very sincere way. Though, the moment the man removed his hand, despite the fact that Kilik looked as though he was having trouble standing—he smiled. “Just making sure,” Kilik offered softly before he hopped back up onto the wagon. “You should see her, though. Your foot is only going to get worse!”

  The wagon started moving again before Kilik realized that Calis was staring at him. When he did realize it, he flushed, looking a little self-conscious. “What is it? Don’t worry about the milk,” he said.

  “Is your shoulder hurt?” Calis asked, without bothering to mask how closely he’d been watching Kilik. After all, surely the boy had noticed that Calis was watching him work with growing intensity as the sun progressed.

  This seemed to take Kilik entirely off guard, though. His blue eyes widened for an instant before he was able to regain his composure. “What? Of course it is. Why?” The words tried to sound confused, but there was a knowing nature about them.

  “I saw you flinch. When he hit you, it looked like he hurt you,” Calis said softly. His concern was outweighing his need to be coy for the time being.

  Kilik seemed to realize that there was no getting out of this. He struggled for a few moments, and then offered a very reassuring smile. “You get very involved in other people’s woes,” he pointed out. Calis thought of informing him that this wasn’t usually the case, but he decided against it. “My shoulder is just bruised. Rijit hit it,” he explained.

  There was an undercurrent to the voice, but there was nothing Calis could say or do to prove anything but what Kilik had just told him. So, he just nodded, letting the issue drop. “Shouldn’t you get the healer to treat it?”

  “She has,” Kilik answered. “It’s getting better.” Then, though, he didn’t sound very confident. Perhaps the bruise was a side effect of the illness that he’d had a few suns ago—and quite possibly still had.

  The last few stops were uneventful, though Calis took extra care to make sure he didn’t throw off any more milk bottles. Kilik worked with increased diligence as well, which only made Calis more skeptical that he was as alright as he pretended to be.

  Lycael smiled at both of them as he began shuffling through his coin purse. Calis watched him without much interest. Whether Kilik liked it or not, Calis was going to give him the whole share. Finally, Lycael placed two gold coins in each of their hands. “There,” he said with pride, “since we got done so much faster—I can almost afford to pay you both.”

  Kilik flushed. “No! You don’t need to pay us extra. I promise.” He earnestly held out one of the gold coins that he’d been given. “Keep it.”

  “Kilik,” the man said softly, “how many times have you refused pay from me, anyway? I think I can afford to give you a little extra every now and then. Don’t be so soft-hearted, boy, or you’ll lose everything.” The man stared into Kilik’s eyes with a harsh seriousness and then nodded to Calis.

  Calis just nodded back, unsure what the gesture meant. Maybe the man thought Calis was going to take advantage of Kilik. “It was good to meet you, sir,” he said after a moment. Then, he mounted the wagon and pushed the mules drawing it forward.

  “I appreciate your help,” Kilik said warily.

  Calis smiled and shrugged his shoulders. Kilik certainly didn’t seem to be as angry as he had been, though Calis could still see the guarded disposition behind his eyes. “It was my pleasure, and I appreciate your not letting me make a fool of myself,” Calis said.

  They headed back towards the house, and Calis could only assume Lee had remained there for the few shifts that it had taken to deliver all the produce. “You do that every sun?” Calis asked.

  Kilik nodded. “Normally, I only do it at dawn when the shipment arrives, but this sun, they had two coming in—so I helped.” Then, he paused. “I’m surprised you’re still here. Weren’t you thinking of leaving the sun after the dance?”

  “I was, but I found a few interesting gems in this town, so I’ve been sticking around,” he answered. That was honest enough, without being entirely honest. “Must be nice,” Calis continued, “having a vigilante around to help with your problems.”

  There had been no original intention of talking to Kilik about the Phantom Blade, but he found himself immensely curiou
s about the boy’s opinion on the matter. Surely some of Dark District residents didn’t trust this person. “Yes,” was all Kilik said.

  “That has to be a sense of security. Seems like the nobles from the Shining District like to come give the commoners a hard time.” He was desperate to get an opinion from this soft-spoken boy.

  Kilik looked dismayed after a few moments of silence. “He can’t protect everyone.”

  “Why do you say that?” Calis asked. “Are the nobles really that common here? I haven’t seen that many.”

  They were walking with a pace very similar to one another, though Kilik was a bit shorter—and he had to step more than Calis. Even the way Kilik walked seemed to be carefully calculated, as if he was thinking about every step without pausing to think about it. He was graceful—incredibly so—in everything that he did. “They have been less common lately. I think they are busy with other things, but there have been times when we’ve needed many vigilantes. The nobles are cruel, and they strike like cowards—in packs. None of the citizens here know how to fight them. That… the guy you saw before… is the only one that stands up to them. Everyone else will stand idly by while their own people are beaten.” His words were pained.

  An infuriating thought struck Calis, and he didn’t even bother wondering why it seemed like such an abomination in his mind. “You sound like someone who has suffered such an experience,” he said, with a tremor in his voice.

  Kilik grinned, though there was a darkness in it. “I… well, obviously. No more than others. And I understand it, I know why they can’t help me—but others, I know they don’t get it… they don’t know that it’s just out of fear that people don’t help them. So, they become bitter. It’s like a disease that the nobles carry with them.”

  There were flashes in Calis’s head, of nobles, of Tareth—beating the boy before Calis now—without reason, and as Calis thought of Dark District people who must have stood idly by, he grew angrier. Everyone in Telandus made him sick when he stopped and thought about them. “What would you do,” Calis asked, “if you saw nobles picking on someone?”

  “I’d try to stop them,” Kilik said without pause.

  That didn’t surprise Calis at all, and he had no trouble believing that Kilik was one of the few in Dark District that wasn’t afraid to step in on someone else’s behalf. “Do you think that is why he does it, then?” Calis asked the question he’d posed himself aloud.

  “Who?” Kilik asked.

  “The Phantom Blade. Do you think he wants people to have more hope in themselves? I wonder if that’s his reason.” The thought was a profound one. Perhaps a bit of a stretch, though it made sense. Why else would this masked individual constantly throw himself in the way of danger, and remain anonymous? Perhaps because it made all of Dark District see the Phantom Blade in everyone around them.

  What an idea.

  “I don’t doubt it,” Kilik answered after a moment. There was an amused smile on his face as they walked, and Calis got the impression that Kilik was warming up to him faster than he’d thought he would. “What about you?” Kilik asked. “What would you do if you saw someone being attacked?”

  Before, Calis would have responded that he’d walk away. He wouldn’t have thought twice about it. The affairs of commoners had been taught to him at an early age to be irrelevant and not anything with which he should involve himself. Yet, as he stared at Kilik, he knew at least one instance in which he would do much more than get involved. “For a total stranger?” he said, “I don’t know.”

  “Why not? They could have a family,” Kilik prompted.

  “But they could also deserve it,” Calis answered warily. “Not everyone is a good person, and you said yourself that most of them would probably not help me. In fact, most of them would probably stand there and watch me die.”

  “Yes, but what if the one time you didn’t help—was someone who would have helped you? What if it was the bloody Phantom Blade? You wouldn’t know. And if you saved them, maybe they would save you the next time—just because you saved them.” The words were soft, as though Kilik felt a little bad for saying them to Calis.

  Then, Calis just smiled and nodded his head. “I think you’re right. I think that I will think about it that way from now on.” Oddly enough, he knew that was precisely what he meant. Because lying for the sake of bettering reputation was something Calis had left in Dokak.

  This seemed to unnerve Kilik a little bit. There was a flash in those blue eyes that meant that the boy thought he was being toyed with. His cheeks flushed a soft red color, and he stared towards the opposite side of the alleyway. Kilik was probably willing the walk to be over, but Calis couldn’t find a pace slow enough. “You had never unloaded shipments before,” Kilik said briskly.

  The blond just smiled and nodded his head. He didn’t know if Kilik could see the nod, but he nodded no less. “I suppose that was obvious.”

  “It was,” Kilik said. “What do you do, then? For money?”

  “I make deals,” Calis answered more honestly than he’d intended. But that was all he’d ever done. He had never done an honest sun’s labor in his life, but he had delegated for a man for whom should never be delegated.

  Kilik chewed on his lip. The sun was setting so that there was a red hue over the entirety of Dark District. The buildings were orange, rather than brown, and Kilik’s bronze skin seemed to glow with the light. His blue eyes were dimmed with the orange, though the brightness of them would not be entirely silenced. “So you trade, then? Barter?” he asked.

  Calis supposed this was as close to the truth as he was going to allow Kilik to get, so he just nodded his head with a light hearted smile. “I do.” Then, before more questions could be directed at him, Calis decided that he would venture a question about Kilik’s own past. “What about you? You said you did not originate in Telandus. Where are you from?”

  The boy seemed unsure for a single moment. His eyes flashed with pain, as though he were trying to think of something that just eluded him. Or perhaps he was working not to think of it. “I… don’t remember,” he admitted warily. “I woke up in the middle of a storm near Telandus. So I came here,” he told Calis lightly. “I don’t remember anything before that.”

  That seemed strange. Kilik didn’t strike Calis as the type who’d had to restart his life. He handled everything as though he had experience well beyond his years. “When was that?” Calis asked.

  “Nearly five years ago,” Kilik answered without pause. Perhaps he had just accepted the fate as a fact of life, and so he didn’t let it influence the way he handled things. That, or he chose not to speak about his past, because there were things in it that he didn’t want to remember. Calis frowned at the idea.

  A smile made its way onto Calis’s lips again, though, eventually. “Five years,” he said, as though remembering a fond story. That was when he’d left for Dokak, though telling this boy that would not have been advisable. “That must have shaken you up. Have you looked into your past?”

  “No,” Kilik snapped, as though the question was offensive. So, perhaps he was trying to forget something that had happened in the past. The boy cleared his throat after a moment, seeming to discover that he had not responded appropriately. “Apologies,” he said shortly. “I didn’t… it’s just… there isn’t anything I can do.”

  Calis didn’t know if pushing the issue would get him anything more than a punch across the jaw. So, he simply smiled, observing Kilik with a tilted head. This boy was no less interesting than he had been the moon of Dark District festival. “You seem to have found a good home with the healer and her daughter,” Calis said.

  Kilik offered a very strained smile and nodded his head. “I got lucky.”

  “I don’t think so.” Calis surprised himself, once again, with the words that sprang from his mouth. Whatever Kilik was, he was putting quite the hex on Calis’s ability to check his words before he spouted them. At Kilik’s curious glance, though, Calis had to continue.
“I just… your personality…” he said. Or rather, he spat, he hadn’t the slightest idea what he was saying.

  Calis could see Kilik’s jaw muscle tighten with his words. He was sure he’d managed to insult the poor boy, somehow. “Wh-what about my personality?”

  “It’s different. They probably felt… compelled to…”

  The insult, he guessed, was worse than he’d anticipated. Kilik flushed and jerked his head to the side. The house was in view, and Calis was sure Kilik intended to bolt towards it. “There is nothing wrong with my personality, sir,” he said, “I do not need any sort of special attention.”

  Calis sighed, heavily. “I meant that you have a charming personality—a likeable one—so there would be no luck involved in finding people that would be willing to support you,” Calis corrected with less than diligent words.

  The boy didn’t seem to believe him. “What?” he asked after a moment of uncertain staring.

  Without pausing to think about how rude the gesture may seem, or how frightened Kilik may be of it, Calis grabbed the boy’s hands in his own and offered one of the most sincere smiles that he’d ever displayed. “What I’m trying to say, my suspicious workmate, is that I like you. I like you very much.”

  The flush on Kilik’s cheeks was worth the awkwardness, Calis assessed.

  “‘Does he love his land, or does he love his woman who resides within the land?’ Aleia, the Magister of Direction, would ask.”

  -A Hero’s Peace v.i

  Chapter x

  Taeru Lassau

  The traveler had lied about his name. Atris. He’d stammered it out as if it was of another language. Still, Taeru had been so frustrated at having the guy follow him and help him unload Manali’s wares that he’d let it go.

  Upon the man’s departure, Taeru thought of the lie fleetingly, though he was more focused on the strange way the blond had held his hands. Why had he grabbed them like that? He’d said that he liked Taeru—which was strange enough—but the physical nature of the blond frightened Taeru immensely. His heart continued hammering in his chest long after the travelers had left Juliet’s home.