by Rae Brooks
He was a prince, not a princess, and princes must know how to defend themselves. They had the potential to eventually rule a kingdom, and rulers could not be vulnerable—lest they be destroyed. That was part of the reason Taeru had left, he had never felt strong enough. Despite Veyron’s insistence that he was, Taeru had never felt strong. He had always felt as though he were covering for some enigmatic weakness within him, even as he learned to fight far better than most.
He preferred being the Phantom Blade. That way, he could channel his strength into the moments when he was the phantom—he could know that he was strong enough to protect people. Protecting those people, they would never see how weak he actually was—and that was the way he preferred it. Neither Kilik, nor Taeru, was strong enough to be what the people needed. He only knew how to pretend, and he knew that he could never let anyone see that weakness, even Calis—especially Calis.
Then, though, he worried that Calis had already seen it. After all, the prince had carried him on his horse, and in his arms, when Taeru had been unable to defend himself. No, he had to make sure that Calis never got any more of that impression.
“Juliet,” he said unemotionally, “you worry about me all the time. This conversation is evidence of that much.” He had taken an extraordinarily long time to answer her, but he was not known for his quick and sociable responses.
Juliet laughed quietly, but then she nodded her head. “I suppose I do, Kilik. But, to have the prince of the kingdom looking out for you, must feel a great deal better than having an old healer chastise you for staying out too late.”
This didn’t merit much of a response because she was right. Calis had much more power than Juliet ever would, but that didn’t mean that Taeru should consider her concern of less importance to him. “I’m sure the prince will find another to waste his efforts on after a while,” he said conclusively.
That statement was accurate, he told himself. Calis was handsome, and Calis was young—eventually he would find a young woman, much more suited to his position, that caught his fancy. “As you say, Kilik.” Her body turned to indicate the end of the conversation. “I am going to finish tending to this young boy, and then I will begin dinner. I suggest you make good use of those ribbons that you tormented poor Kilik for, love,” she added with a smile at Alyx.
Rather than go outside and agitate everyone further, Taeru thought that he would polish his swords. He had the necessary supplies indoors, and he was sure that Aitken, wherever the boy was, would enjoy watching.
Dinner consisted of a stew, which was edible, though not delicious. Nothing was ever delicious made in Dark District—Taeru suspected that Lavus went out of his way to ensure that. Veyron had made no great strides towards giving the people of Lower Town better food, but he had not hindered them, and in the many times that Taeru had eaten in Lower Town—he had some very good meals. Never, in five years, had he eaten something that was not tasteless, in Juliet’s home. He knew, as well, that Juliet’s cooking was far superior to anyone else’s within the District.
You complain of food when your actions will soon bring death upon this entire family? Why do you continue to stay here—have you no concern for these people who have taken you in out of the goodness of their hearts, fallen prince?
A flash of that black structure pulsed through his mind, and his lips pressed together in anguish. No, he didn’t want to have an episode of this in front of them. He would ignore it, even if it killed him. Nevertheless, the moment the whispers started, the bruise on his back—and now one about his wrist, hurt. He glared and shoved another spoonful of food into his mouth.
You would not have to worry about wasting their time and resources with your weakness if you would leave. Why do you think you deserve to be here?
The questions weren’t unfair. Why was Taeru still here, when he knew that if he was discovered by the authorities—he might well bring trouble down on the family with whom he lived? He could leave—he could stay on the streets, perhaps. But Juliet was so vehemently against the idea, surely that counted for something.
You would take advantage of an old woman’s courtesy?
Taeru flinched under the accusation. Was that what he was doing? No, he gave her all of his earnings. He had offered to leave so many, many times, and he made sure to help upkeep the house whenever he could. He refused to believe that he was nothing but a liability to these people. Yet, it could not be denied that he was placing them in danger with his masquerading as the Phantom Blade, and really, with his very identity.
He took another bite of food into his mouth. His wrist throbbed with agony, and he set aside his eatery utensils to rub it. Alyx and her mother were involved in some conversation about dress and men, but he couldn’t hear them. He was too busy fighting with his own thoughts, and he knew they were not paying attention to him now.
You are selfish. You don’t deserve the comfort of any home, even one in Dark District.
He snarled inwardly, willing the whispering to stop. He didn’t know how to combat it. He knew what the voice spoke was his own belief. He was endangering these people, and if anything happened to them—he would never forgive himself. He had tried to leave, though, they found him every time. At this point, he would make them feel too much guilt if he left. And what about the times Juliet and Alyx had gotten into trouble at the market?
So now you wouldn’t save them if they weren’t letting you live in their house, you leech?
This voice hurt—and the physical pain felt almost comparable with the emotional pain of being forced to hear this. He had to face the fact that it was right. He could stop being the Phantom Blade, but then what would happen to the people of Dark District? The best alternative would be to leave—to find a way to live on his own. “Juliet,” he finally said hoarsely, “I need to find somewhere else to live.”
Juliet was immediately scowling at him. “I’ve told you that isn’t going to happen, Kilik. Why have you been bringing that up so much lately? Do you realize what you do for this family? Do you know how lost we would be if you weren’t here?”
Her words were marred by his already formed beliefs. They would make it just fine. Juliet was a healer, and a very good one—she didn’t need him to support her. “You don’t need me here, and you know that… that if I was to be found out…”
“You would be hanged as well,” Alyx said angrily, “and yet you persist in doing it.”
“That is my own life,” he snapped, “I am free to do what I want with my own life, it is yours that I should not be trifling with.”
The two women exchanged glances, and they both looked prepared to tie Taeru to some post in the house. Aitken was clearly unhappy, in fact, his lips were trembling as though he might start crying at any moment. “Kilik, why would you want to leave?” he asked weakly.
Taeru put his fingers to his head and let out a very long exhalation of breath. “I just…”
In a quick movement, Alyx reached across the table and smacked her hand to Kilik’s head. “You have a fever again,” she said severely. Now that she mentioned it, aside from the pain in his wrist and back, he could feel that achy feeling extending to his extremities. Why did this happen so much now?
He yanked Alyx’s hand away from his head, determined not to cause any more trouble this moon than he already had. “I’ll just go to bed, then,” he said, “thank you for dinner, Juliet.” He bowed to everyone, stood up from the table, and headed to his bedroll without waiting to be excused.
As he slept, the seedling became more pronounced, and its whispers grew louder in his ears. Misery ate at him as he stood in the bloody field. He stumbled to and fro, trying to find some place to go. There was nowhere, though, everywhere he went—those tendrils were waiting for him to step too far in any direction. Voices of people from his past whispered at his back, and he could hear his father discussing plans from somewhere far away.
This is Taeru’s fault. She has been looking for an excuse to leave since he did. There was intens
e panic in his body at the statement. They were talking about Aela. Had something happened to her?
Taeru! She shouted to him. His entire body stiffened while he remembered her red eyes from the dream before. He didn’t want to turn and see her. He had to, though, if anything had happened to her—it was his fault.
She was calling to him, and she sounded rather panicked. She needed him, and he knew, somewhere within him, that he wasn’t there to protect her. When he turned, he saw her standing off in the field far away from him.
He needed to get to her, and he knew it. She was in danger, and he wanted to help her. “Aela!” he yelped. He tried to move, but his feet refused to respond. Where was Aela? If anything had happened to her—he didn’t know what he’d do. He wouldn’t even know, not really. Why did his body feel so weak? Why could he never be there for his sister?
Because you abandoned her! A voice from behind him informed him, and it was a hiss—a frightening twist of words.
Taeru, get away from there!
Aela was talking to him again, and he could barely hear her over the ringing in his own ears. She sounded worried, though. Aela—worried about him—that was a novel concept. She had no reason to worry about him, after all, he was the fool who had run away from home and put even more people in danger. Despite his attempts to communicate with his sister, he found his body refusing to respond. He wanted to help her, but he found that he was unable to do anything.
Useless, as always, the voice told him cheerfully.
Finally, one of the tendrils shot from the distance and wrapped about his wrist. He cried out in pain, staggering back, but the black tentacle pulled him forward. “No, please,” he choked. “I can fix this.”
Another black tentacle shot to his other wrist, bound it with his other one, and yanked forward again. His feet were lifted off the ground, and he landed closer to the black obelisk before him. “Stop, please—please…” He ground his feet into the field, but the blood of it made everything slip, and he was being pulled to the structure.
It opened, suddenly, and he could see a single rod extending upwards, wound in thorns and vines. He pulled against the grave, working to stay focused. Was it going to use his pain again? He was sure that it would, and he knew that he couldn’t let it do this to him. He squirmed, and he heard laughter from somewhere in the distance.
The laughter echoed through the world as everything faded to black. He jerked up in his bedroll, panting with effort. He wrist hurt, he pulled back his sleeve to investigate. There was a purple bruise in the shape of the hold of the tendrils, and dread bubbled from his heart to his mind in an instant. Then, he glanced across to see the young blond staring at him. “I’ve never seen you cry out like that in your sleep. Are you alright?” she asked softly. “What were you dreaming about?’
“It was nothing,” Taeru assured her gently. “Don’t worry about it. Nightmares happen to everyone.” He yanked his sleeve to cover the bruise. That had to be a coincidence, perhaps he had gotten one earlier and his mind had woven the dream around the pain. Maybe.
Taeru went about his duties that morning, and he worked harder than usual to keep the whispers from piercing into his mind again. He didn’t want to have those dreams anymore, and more importantly, he wanted to know what he was doing. He had to find out how he was failing, and maybe that way he could prevent the dreams from happening.
But, despite his mind’s morbid curiosity, he tried not to think about it very much. He finished his unloading for Manali and accepted the payment with a bow. “Something on your mind, Kilik?” the man asked. There seemed to be genuine concern in his eyes, but Taeru just shrugged his shoulders.
He was not going to have the entire Dark District thinking he was going mad. Though, the fact remained, that he might be going mad. “I’m fine, sir, thank you for your concern.” Manali, never one to let his own thoughts distract him for long, nodded and headed off to finish the rest of his sun’s work.
For his part, Taeru traded for some milk and then headed back to Juliet’s house to help with the chores. He would stay busy this sun if his life depended on it. He would not find somewhere to sit and let the whispers and dreams get the better of him again. Taeru went to work ensuring that their dishes were ready for dinner and that the roof hadn’t acquired any leaks with the intense rain that they had gotten the sun before.
Juliet came in near sundown, and her eyes softened upon seeing him at work. “Kilik,” she said. “How is your fever?”
“Fine,” he answered swiftly, “gone.” He didn’t want her investigating the fact that he might still have one. He didn’t feel very feverish, but Juliet tended to find things wrong with him, when he was sure that there was nothing. This sun he felt as though something was the matter with him, but he didn’t know what. His wrist still hurt, but that hardly seemed like anything to make a fuss about.
What was wrong with him, though? Why was he having these dreams and these thoughts? Was Aela actually in danger? That seedling—did it exist and would it really bring about the destruction of Telandus and Cathalar? Was it Taeru’s fault? “You seem so nervous, Kilik.” She put a gentle hand on his shoulder.
He turned to glance at her, and for a moment, he wanted to tell her—everything. He hadn’t been able to be upfront with anyone for five years, though, and that wasn’t changing now. He needed it though, he needed to tell someone about the nightmares, and the voices, and the fact that he was wanted by Lavus Tsrali. “I’m alright, Juliet,” he said softly. “I’ve just been thinking a lot about how I would feel if anything were to happen to you or your family.”
“Kilik,” she said firmly, “you are a part of this family now. The sooner you realize that, the better off you will be.” Taeru didn’t know if she’d ever said that to him before, but hearing it felt good. He wasn’t sure that he deserved that sort of treatment, but to hear that he was part of this family was nice.
He spent the rest of the sun, and even a little while after the moon had appeared, working on the chores he’d assigned for himself. He made sure that all the pottery was in working order and that Juliet’s herbs were stocked and organized properly. He paused only for dinner, and he would have returned to the task, then, if a very pressing matter hadn’t arisen. “Where is Alyx?” he asked.
“There was a boy!” Aitken volunteered happily. He had been nervous around Kilik all sun, and now he seemed pleased that the older boy wasn’t going to try and leave the house again. Aitken worshipped Kilik, and even Taeru wasn’t so stupid as to not recognize that as a fact. He had certainly made friends in Telandus. “She said he was courting her!”
Taeru felt a frown tugging at his lips. That wasn’t normal—why were they out so late? He tossed a glance at Juliet, who nodded her affirmation of this issue. So Alyx was alright, he thought, that meant that his heart should stop beating so quickly. He would never understand why women wanted to spend time with men during the evening.
Well into the evening, it turned out. For many shifts after dinner had ended, Taeru paced by the door, jumping at any sound, hoping that Alyx would return. Every shift, though, was another empty noise, and Taeru became more and more worried as he waited. He knew that it was well past the shift that he should be in bed when Juliet made her way into the living room. Her eyes were worried at once. “Kilik, what is it? Why are you awake?”
He stared at the blond woman incredulously. How had she slept knowing that her daughter was prancing around with some man? “I was waiting on Alyx,” he said dutifully. “She hasn’t come home yet.”
There was the worry that Taeru had been expecting. Juliet had already been to sleep, and something had woken her. Alyx should be back, Taeru was certain, but he hadn’t wanted to go out needlessly if this sort of thing was normal. He knew very little about courting. “She isn’t home?” Juliet choked.
Without any more prompting, Taeru moved back to his room, and in an instant, he had slipped on the leather gloves, cuirass, and boots. The black outfit took only moments
to switch into, and he yanked the mask, bandana, and swords into his hands. He didn’t need to be exiting the house looking fully like the Phantom Blade. He left without even a glance at Juliet, and once he was far enough away from the house, he slipped on the mask and bandana.
He pulled himself up onto one of the rooftops. He had to find her. His heart felt as though it might explode in his chest. Alyx—of all people—was someone that he couldn’t bear to lose. He should have left earlier, he shouted silently. Why had he taken so long? Better that he make a fool of himself by stalking her than anything happen to her.
He moved along the rooftops. No one was about at this moon-shift, and with every street that revealed nothing—Taeru felt his heart falling further and further. He wanted to call her name, but if someone was attacking her and heard him—then he would put her in more danger. Finally, he heard a shriek and a cry. “Alyx!” he hissed.
His body twisted and moved towards the sound without a single wasted motion. After a few more rooftops, he found the alleyway where they were. Four noblemen, and a blond girl shoved back against a dilapidated fence. He dropped down behind them and yanked one of the men back into the building he’d been on before he spoke. “You should get away from her,” he said darkly.
The rest of the men turned to glare at him. “Do you never sleep?” one of them hissed. Apparently, he was gaining a little bit of fame in the Shining District, which he knew was a bad thing. Before, the nobles that he’d run into had laughed and mocked him. Lately, though, there had been traps for him—and everyone seemed to know who he was.
That was the least of his worries, though, as he looked at Alyx, whose eyes were red for crying. They were large as they watched him. Taeru unsheathed his first sword and turned to cut down the man that was trying to grab him from behind.