Divided

by Rae Brooks

  Taeru felt a twisting sickness form in the pit of his stomach at the thought. The man must have been up to something of the sort. Perhaps he was a noble and simply biding his time until Taeru trusted him enough to reveal his secret. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Taeru couldn’t be fooled that easily.

  Nonetheless, a strange part of him ached to believe that he was being ridiculous. At the dance, the blond had seemed very genuine, and he had not tried to find out any information about Taeru at all. In Taeru’s experience with spies, while they did not rush for information, they normally weren’t as genuine as the other people one could meet.

  That was how Taeru had played it safe up until this point. And the idea had not failed him, until now, if this man was indeed out to turn him in. Still—for some reason—despite all of his fear of being discovered, Taeru didn’t think that was the man’s objective. Of course it all made sense, helping Taeru with his every sun task, showing up at his place of residence and asking about him—those were things that someone would do when searching for information. Helping the Phantom Blade, though, seemed a little more far-fetched.

  The man had no hard evidence that Taeru was the Phantom Blade. In fact, the man wouldn’t have had knowledge of the Phantom Blade before the dance—and if he had, there would have been no reason to suspect Taeru over any of the other men of his stature with dark skin. Those were plentiful in Dark District, so there should have been nothing at all special about Taeru Lassau—or, Kilik.

  Only the man had certainly thought otherwise and seemed to be making an effort to find out more about Taeru. Well, one thing was for certain, even if his foolish heart didn’t want to believe it—logically, Taeru would be wary of this traveler so that he didn’t endanger Juliet or her family.

  At last, he collected a large bag to put all of his supplies in and let out a tired breath. He’d only brought just enough coin to pay for the last of the supplies, and he handed that to the vendor without much protest. He wasn’t very good at bargaining, but Alyx was busy for the sun and he had been charged with the task. Juliet needed to keep to her residence at all times, in case anyone needed healing, and Aitken was not old enough to be trusted with such elaborate duties.

  Juliet had wanted to come herself, but Taeru had insisted. He wouldn’t let her change her routine just because he’d accumulated a few cuts and bruises over his desire to help the people of Dark District. No, and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t handle carrying a few bags from the market to their home. He could handle that quite easily.

  Well, he would have been able to, had a firm hand not made its way onto his arm. His heart jumped into his throat, and he glanced wildly up at the person who’d grabbed him. He wasn’t sure how he’d been so oblivious until this point, as the nobleman who had grabbed him had a very obvious glint in his eyes that said he’d been following Taeru for a while. “Hi there,” the man said in a very low, very dangerous voice.

  Ordinarily, a man shouldn’t single out his target so openly—but the residents of Dark District had always turned a blind eye to whatever the noblemen wanted to do. So when the group of two other men appeared in Taeru’s peripheral vision, he knew he was in trouble. Why on this sun? he thought warily, why when I’m injured?

  Forcing his face into a calm expression, he glanced up at the man. “What do you want?” he asked flatly. He wasn’t about to show fear, as that tended to awaken a whole new desire for beating that the nobles had.

  “Whoa, whoa,” the man looked offended, “I just wanted to say hello.” The words were so full of sadism that Taeru nearly revealed how worried he was. His side was not healed, nor was his finger, and he hadn’t brought any weapon with which to fend them off.

  He had been so anxious to prove to Juliet that he would be able to manage for her that he hadn’t thought to grab his usual knife. Because of that, he was entirely defenseless, and he was certain that he’d just wasted Juliet’s coin. He’d pay her back, he thought worriedly. “Well,” Taeru answered firmly, “hello.”

  When he tried to yank his arm away, though, the man’s hand remained where it was and then twisted Taeru towards him in a blur of motion. The grip was easily breakable, but after a quick gleam, there was a knife placed against the skin of his throat. In only a moment, it drew blood, and Taeru felt his heart begin to pound. “Now, now, why are you in such a hurry to leave? I wanted to know what you bought. You spent an awful lot of money here.”

  Taeru may have ordinarily told the man that he could have the goods, but as they had been bought with Juliet’s coin—he didn’t feel right doing it now. His jaw set into a hard line, and when he tried to yank away, the knife cut a little deeper into his throat.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Taeru knew that people were watching, and he knew that they probably felt sorry for him. But he also knew that they were grateful they were being left alone, and that they would not interfere. Not their fault—but still, he would have liked someone to hand him a weapon with which to defend himself. As it was, none of them were volunteering.

  One of the other noblemen was at his back then, and suddenly he was reaching for the bag that Taeru had decided he needed to protect. With a quick, fluid motion, Taeru twisted out of the first man’s grip—slamming his palm into the guy’s face. Next, he elbowed the second one and sprinted off down the street, only taking a moment before he ducked into one of the alleyways that he knew so well.

  “Stop him!” he heard someone yell from far behind him, and he knew it was one of the nobles, though perhaps not the one that had addressed him. He knew that they would have horses, and that they would be much faster than him.

  The key was to find somewhere that they wouldn’t look. He hurried down the alleyway, clutching Juliet’s supplies to his chest desperately. Unfortunately, this alleyway didn’t have any of the cellars that he used to keep his phantom outfit, and that meant that he would have to fend these men off as Kilik. An unarmed Kilik.

  As he ran, the sound of hooves alerted him to the fact that the men had mounted and were looking for him. He moved through the alleyway, working not to knock any of the patrons over. The alley was filled with carts and people that he could lose himself in, and he ducked in between them as he went.

  When he spared a glance back, he could see one of the men searching for him among the people of the alleyway. To Taeru’s dismay, the man was flinging people out of his path without mercy. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to go back, and the men wouldn’t bother much with the other citizens while they were searching for him.

  He continued forward, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. His throat was burning with incredible pain where he’d been cut, but if he paused to tend to it, then he would be caught. He had to keep moving. The man was coming down the alley, though, for whatever reason, so that meant that Taeru would have to go back out into one of the other streets.

  “Hey!” someone said, and Taeru flinched, somehow certain that he was the addressee of the statement. “You’re bleeding.”

  His eyes widened, and it only took a moment for the man on the horse to find him and begin galloping towards him with a much quicker pace. Taeru would have cursed if he’d had time, but instead, he sprinted out into the street.

  Another noble had obviously gone around, though, as another brown horse was waiting with an overly armored noble waiting on it. Panic shot through him, and in order to stop himself in time he let his feet slide out from under him so that he was on the ground for a moment before he picked himself up and darted down the street away from the second man.

  The man was after him in a flash, though, and the other had found his way onto the street. He could hear them calling to the third man, who appeared on the street a few moments later only a few strides in front of Taeru. This was just not a good sun. Taeru made a sharp turn and ducked into another alleyway. They’d all seen where he’d gone this time, so they were following him down the alley, and they were gaining on him—fast.

  When a cart seemed to stop direc
tly in front of him, Taeru used his climbing lessons to hoist himself up onto and over the thing with one, quick motion. He kept moving, not pausing to worry with whether or not he’d disturbed the man who owned the cart. From the argument that followed, Taeru was sure that at least one of the men had gotten stopped by the cart.

  However, when he heard two sets of hooves gaining on him further, he knew that he’d only successfully gotten rid of one of them. And that one would be back with the others in a matter of moments. He kept moving, trying to keep his breathing so that he’d be able to run longer. He jumped over obstacles rather than swerving to avoid them, though with every second, the horses gained another step.

  Finally, as they neared the end of the third street, one of the horses caught up to him and with a quick metallic sound, a sword cut across Taeru’s side. Naturally, the side that had been injured and the one that he’d been trying so hard not to irritate. The blade cut through the bandage and herbs without any sort of problem, and as pain staggered him he found himself rolling along the street.

  If his side had been in any better condition, he would have gotten up and kept running, but when he tried—agony pulsed through him, and he staggered and fell a few steps from where he’d been the first time. Vaguely, he heard the men laughing, and he tried to pull himself back up. Shock bit into him when he saw the amount of blood that had already accumulated underneath his white shirt—it was already dripping onto the ground. The blade had to have caught him much worse than he’d thought.

  Despite the pain, he tried to move again, only this time rather than his own pain stopping him—a boot slammed down against his leg and he found himself against the dirt once more. With a forceful gesture, the man grabbed the bag of supplies and tossed it to one of his friends. Taeru tried to see if he recognized the noble—it wasn’t Tareth, nor was it the man who had injured him a few suns ago. This man had pale brown hair and pasty skin. Bulky, and not very attractive, Taeru thought meanly. “You’re a quick thing, aren’t you, you little street urchin?” the man asked hatefully.

  Taeru growled and tried to pull away, but the man reached down and grabbed him by the shoulders, slamming him up against a nearby stone structure. Taeru tried to suppress the groan, but he couldn’t manage. The gash on his back made the impact feel that much stronger, and his head swam for a moment. “If you’d just given us the bag, I would have made this short. But—as you didn’t, I’m going to enjoy dragging it out.”

  Drawing his fist back, the man grinned and then slammed a punch into the smaller boy’s jaw without mercy. Then again, again, and a third time. When Taeru didn’t seem to be reacting as he anticipated, the man forced his body back harder against the wall. This time, the back of Taeru’s head hit it.

  Once again, his head spun with pain, and the fist drew back and collided with Taeru’s jaw. He was certain that with a few more punches, his jaw would be broken. However, the punches ended there, and the man instead pulled Taeru away from the wall and shoved him back into the other two men.

  The one that caught him was even larger than the man who’d been beating Taeru before. When Taeru tried to squirm away, dizziness subdued him. Despite the change of hands, the man who’d been doing the beating before was too involved to quit now. He gestured to the third man, the only one who wasn’t involved yet. “Hold his foot,” the leader said flatly.

  The other man obeyed without question, pulling Taeru’s leg so that it was fully extended before him. For a moment, Taeru wasn’t sure what the intent of the action was, but then he saw the leader raise his arm in the air. The sickening crack that accompanied the searing pain frightened Taeru more than anything else.

  His leg, once the third man released it, hung at a very awkward angle, and even the simple act of existing sent pain into his chest. With a jolt, he realized he’d cried out at the impact, and he flushed as the man grinned at him. As they all seemed satisfied enough, Taeru took the opportunity to writhe out of the hold he was in and try to pull himself away from them. He didn’t get far with his leg in its current condition. The second man moved forward and caught him across the back with a blade, and Taeru fell without much resistance.

  Instead of remaining and dwelling on the pain, however, he pushed himself up on his arms and made a desperate retreat towards the far wall. The men took a few more steps towards him, though, and they kept laughing. “I ought to take you back to my manor, boy. I could have fun with you. You’d make an interesting servant.”

  “I’d sooner kill myself,” Taeru informed the man angrily. The street was oddly deserted, he noticed, and he was getting dangerously close to the wall. Sweat clung to him, and dirt clung to the sweat. Blood spilled from his busted lip, and though most were simply bruises, Taeru thought there might be a cut on his face due to some stickiness that seemed to run along his temple.

  The man snatched Taeru from the ground and hit him hard across the jaw, sending his body slamming back down. Once again, Taeru scampered back as far as he could. The three of them were glaring at him, and his energy felt entirely depleted.

  This was really going to hurt.

  As one of the men stepped forward, the sound of horses startled the men and Taeru into glancing around. They didn’t have to look long, as in a matter of moments, there was a white horse standing between Taeru and his assailants. Another noble.

  Taeru felt his entire body twist with misery as he glanced up to see whoever was on top of the horse. A blond, and the blond wasn’t looking at Taeru, he was looking at the other men. “What in Elyst are you doing here, Ceran?” the blond asked. There was a strange undertone to the question, though, and Taeru found that he was even more frightened.

  “I… Prince Calis, I… ah… well, we were…” The confident burly man from before had disappeared in favor of a frightened little boy who simply wanted to get himself out of trouble. Prince? So this was the older Tsrali.

  “Do explain,” the prince spoke with venom, and his horse seemed to snort with anger as it advanced on the other three men present. “Because I’m sure you were not piddling about in Dark District when we are trying to prepare an army. My father asked me to keep an eye on our future soldiers, and I was simply making rounds—I never thought I’d see someone in such a disgraceful place!”

  “No sir, absolutely not sir… we were just…” Taeru felt the accused man’s gaze move to him in a moment of desperation. “I was settling a debt for my father.”

  “A debt? I hardly think your esteemed father would accept the money of a Dark Districter. So now you are lying about what you are doing here?” the prince sounded absolutely indignant. Perhaps he was just as hard-hearted as Lavus and his brother, but surely he wouldn’t sully his own words by turning his own hand against Taeru after this.

  Taeru, not wanting to test the theory, tried to force himself up and then had to contain his whimper as he fell back to the ground. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get back home in this state. His leg was entirely useless. “No, we… we should return at once. Our business here is concluded and wasting any more time here would be foolish. Let’s go, men,” the burly man said sharply. They all turned back to their horses, then.

  “A good plan, indeed,” said the prince.

  “Apologies, your grace,” one of them mumbled.

  The men left without another word, but to Taeru’s dismay, he discovered there was another horse in the alley as well. So the prince had come with friends, which meant that he wouldn’t hesitate to toy with some defenseless boy in the middle of Dark District, either. The other horse was a deep brown color, and it approached purposefully.

  In another moment, the prince’s attention changed to him—well, there went Taeru’s last hope that he hadn’t been noticed. Nausea swept across him as he stared blankly at the white horse. The words that he received were not at all what he expected, though. “Are you alright?”

  Taeru blinked a few times and then glanced up into the face of the prince that had just—advertently or not—saved his life. An
d what he saw shocked him to his very foundation. Not only was the look on the prince’s face unexpected, with eyes that were so genuinely concerned that Taeru felt as though he might break down like a child in front of its mother, but the face was entirely familiar.

  Blue-green eyes, with a strong jawline, and a very serious face that seemed somehow eased into a state of softness. His blond hair was messy and short, much shorter than most noblemen. Either they were twins, or Prince Tsrali and the traveler from before were the same person, and that meant that they—or rather he—had saved Taeru thrice.

  Still, sickness had not left the injured man, and he realized that his suspicions may have been true. Why else would a prince have been hanging around him? Surely, Tareth had put him up to this—and perhaps Calis had already made the assumption of his identity. It would not have been hard. He had begun to tremble, and he realized that he hadn’t answered the question. “Yes,” he said firmly.

  Just get up! His mind demanded furiously. Unfortunately, any movement in his leg at all sent so much pain into his mind that he couldn’t even hope to comply.

  The prince frowned, obviously discontented with this answer. Then, though, the brown horse arrived and its rider tossed a sack at Taeru. The sack just missed his leg and Taeru looked inside, finding Juliet’s supplies where they should be. When he glanced up, he was not surprised to see that the rider of the brown horse was the brown-haired friend that had accompanied Calis to Juliet’s.

  “Lee!” the prince snapped. “You bloody imbecile, why would you throw the thing at him? He’s clearly hurt.” The words brought even more shock to Taeru.

  The friend’s—Lee’s—response was calm and collected. “I made sure that it did not hit his leg.”

  “His leg isn’t the only injury he has sustained,” the prince corrected irately. “And stop riding your horse like a blasted girl.” Lee worked to suppress a smile, but Taeru could see the workings of one just beneath his cool expression.