Divided

by Rae Brooks

  “We should get back to Telandus.” Calis narrowed his eyes at the black monstrosity. “You shouldn’t be near this, love.” Then, with authority, he took Kilik’s hand and pulled him back towards the city walls.

  “From their division, there was love, and it eclipsed any war of good and evil that could ever have thought to challenge it.”

  -A Hero’s Peace v.ii

  Chapter xvii

  Aela Lassau

  “Stop trying to make me out to be a halfwit!” Aela growled. “I saw him! It was him! I know my own brother better than anyone in—”

  Leif’s glare and stifled snort forced Aela to stop her saying of the word Cathalar. They didn’t need to draw unwanted attention, though Aela was much more concerned with her brother and how he’d lived unnoticed in Telandus. However, Leif was not as certain of Aela’s own eyesight as she was. “Ael—ic… listen, you have been dreaming of Taeru. You have spoken his name while you slept. You miss him dearly. It would only make sense that you would see him in new faces.”

  His words were so sympathetic that it made Aela want to reach forward and strike him. She had not imagined her brother’s blue eyes—she could not have recreated those if she had tried. Every dream she’d had of her brother had never done those penetrating blue irises justice. “I know him. I know what a hallucination is, and I saw him. He is here—in Telandus!” She slammed her fist into the wall. “By the Magisters, Leif!”

  “Hush!” he snapped. His eyes were burning, and she could see that he wanted to believe her. This wasn’t his fault—as it was rather difficult to believe the former crown prince of Cathalar had escaped to Telandus and had been living here unnoticed. What were the repercussions of that? “Fine, if you are so certain—what was he doing?”

  Aela took a breath. Leif still didn’t believe her, but he was willing to humor her enough to listen now. This juncture had taken quite a while to reach. First, Aela had been forced to work out the rest of her shift in the tavern, and when she’d returned Leif had been gone. Only recently, at mid-sun, had he returned. Then, their argument had commenced and lasted for quite a few sun shifts.

  “He was in the tavern. I saw him talking to one of the barmaids. When I first saw him, I dropped everything I was carrying.” She winced at Leif’s disapproving gaze. “You would too if your brother, lost for five years, suddenly appeared before you!”

  Letting out a breath, Leif nodded his head in agreement and then urged her to continue. He really did want to hear this. She felt the slightest pang of affection for her friend. Was Leif her friend? She was sure he’d say they were, but the term felt odd when she looked into Leif’s cocky, assured expression. “Continue,” he said.

  “Well, once I’d dropped everything, I looked back up and he was gone. I thought what you thought, that my mind had finally gotten the better of me, and I’d imagined it. But as the tavern owner was chastising me for the mistake, he was there. He convinced the man to keep me on as a barhand. I know his voice. And, you know there is no mistaking those eyes! He helped me clean up the mess I’d made.”

  For a moment, Leif just stared at her, as though he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Then, he nodded his head very slowly. “Well, the kindness certainly speaks to his character. That sounds very much like the way your brother would react.”

  “Come with me next sun. I asked him to show me around. You can see for yourself.”

  Leif looked incredibly amused at this statement. “You have matured, dear. You have matured and are currently dressed in a way that is not very characteristic of you. I, however, am not all that different from when I last saw your brother. If you are correct, then he would recognize me.”

  Aela wasn’t sure if this was alright or not. In any case, if Taeru recognized Leif, he would be thrown from his comfort zone. She did not think for a moment that Taeru was up to anything particularly bad, nor did she think they should have to hide from him—she found herself far more concerned that they may expose Taeru. “True,” she admitted. “Then, come and watch from afar. Do you think you could manage?”

  A foxlike grin spread across Leif’s already-vulpine features. “Oh, I could manage. Trust me, I have always enjoyed watching you from afar.” There was just enough longing in his voice to cause a blush to spread across Aela’s cheeks.

  Not wanting to harp on that subject for too long, especially considering that she may be about to see her brother again after five years, she let out a breath. “Lovely,” she said. “I have to find a way to talk to him, so I can tell him who we are.”

  “If it is him, then I’m not sure that would be wise. All of us together would be even more likely to draw attention. Your brother has his own reason for being here, and I’d imagine he hoped to stay away from all of…” He gestured around him, to their room. “…this.”

  Aela hadn’t thought of that. She’d known her brother would help her in whatever way she needed, and yet she hadn’t paused to consider that the reason he had left Cathalar was to escape the war. However, if she didn’t ask him for help—if she just wanted to see him, to talk to him—that would be acceptable. “Then, we won’t ask him for help,” she said decisively.

  “He isn’t going to accept that. You are his little sister, and you are in a foreign land. He will be sick with worry, if I know him. He will insist on helping,” Leif said carefully. Despite the sensibility of the words, Aela’s mind was made up. She had waited so long to see her brother. She would find a way to keep him out of it.

  She shook her head, glaring into Leif’s eyes defiantly. “I’ll… just… just come next sun. See if it’s him. Then, we’ll go from there. I will remain as Aelic for now.” The idea of seeing Taeru again had her heart pounding. Her brother! After all this time.

  “Fair enough, Aela. Just try to keep his inability to stop giving in your thoughts.” She nodded, though she was having a hard time not being selfish about this. “There is a section of the wall to Dark District that I thought we could climb. I need to go keep watch over the guards until sundown. Will you be alright?”

  For some reason, the simple question caused Aela’s already erratic heart to flip inside her chest. She couldn’t have explained why if she’d thought about it for the next two suns. A brief smile came over her lips, and she nodded. “No, Feil,” she said, almost mocking the fake name, “I think I might just faint in your absence.”

  “Understandable,” Leif said with another grin. He placed a brief hand on her shoulder. “Hang in there, princess.”

  Without much ceremony, he left her alone in their room. The room felt even larger when Leif was gone, and she made her way to the straw bed and lay down. Her motion moved the shelf near the bed just enough so that an object fell to the floor and sent a resounding thud through the room.

  As her mind was already less than composed, she leapt off the bed as though soldiers had just barged through the door with swords drawn. When she realized that the object had been the cause of the noise, she let out a shaking breath and glanced down to pick it up. Her book. She had kept it with her all through her journey, hidden in her cloak, and somehow it had made it to their quaint, little Telandan room.

  A smile came across her face at the memory of getting the book. It felt like so long ago when Graan had given it to her. Suddenly, she realized that she missed him, and she missed Arthal. She hadn’t really imagined what she was leaving behind. She couldn’t help but wonder if Taeru felt the same way. Had he realized what he was leaving when he left it? No, Taeru had thought about the decision much more than she had—so he must have been more prepared.

  Rather than worrying about her own impulsiveness, she flipped the book open to find where she’d left off. She remembered the moon in the garden, when Leif had interrupted her. A small, silken slip remained where she’d left it—only to her dismay, the mark seemed to have been moved, the page was blank.

  She frowned, not having the slightest idea how she was going to figure out where she was in the book now. She supposed she could
start from the beginning, as it had been so long—and so much had happened since she’d last read. Going to a bookstore had been one of her plans when she’d arrived in Telandus, but she hadn’t managed to make time. Perhaps Taeru would show her where the bookstore was—though she doubted he knew, since he’d always been so opposed to reading.

  Ask him about it next time you see him.

  Arthal’s words rang in her mind. She remembered how she’d been so certain that she would never see Taeru again when Arthal had spoken those words. They had been nothing more than a means of easing Aela’s rampant mind. And now she was going to get that opportunity. Taeru… And yet she’d have to remember to call him Kilik.

  Flipping idly through the pages of her book, she was alerted to the fact that something was very wrong. The pages were blank, though she was only three quarters of the way through the book. She didn’t remember a single blank page in the pages of this book when she’d read it the first couple of times. She would have remembered that, because she’d always found blank spaces in books to be such a waste of resources. She furrowed her brow as she flipped the book closed, analyzing the title to ensure it was the correct one.

  Her silken bookmark had been in this one, but surely Leif could have knocked it out of the book and tried to cover his mistake. That was certainly not too far of a stretch to imagine. But the title of the book read A Hero’s Peace. Was this a different edition? How in the world had she gotten a different edition? And why was her bookmark in it?

  Bringing her teeth together with a snap, she flipped to the beginning of the book. Sure enough, there were words there, waiting to be read. Her eyes moved to the lettering curiously, waiting to see if this was the same book she’d read. Her eyes moved quickly along the words, taking them in as they had before.

  The beginning was a short history, she remembered. The first few pages talked of the Magisters and how their faith in Elyst faded as war seemed to loom in every passing phase of the moon. But no, these words were not the same. This wasn’t the same book at all. This book talked of uncertain peace—peace that was threatened by corruption and powers that should not be involved.

  Her heart quickened at the similarities to her own situation. She could see the words, and she could feel them like she had never before. A land that had been at peace—a land that was soon to come under fire due to a war that seemed inevitable to all its citizens. All its citizens, save one of them. This was not a book that she’d read. The words spoke of a prince, as she read, an illegitimate son—whom the entire kingdom had adored—but he’d left. He’d left the kingdom, unbeknownst to himself—to try and stop the war that he knew would be the world’s undoing.

  Aela felt her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes frantically moved over the words. The boy had left his own kingdom, sentencing himself to insurmountable sadness. He’d made his way to the neighboring kingdom—the one that seemed to be pressing so desperately for war. But why? The book seemed to ask the question without asking it, for though the words never spoke the question—Aela felt it. Why did Telandus want this war? Telandus would never win.

  She bit down hard on her lip as she continued to read. The tale was nothing like the one before, though there was the theme—the theme that the hero in this book was born of the same blood that the original had been. He felt the unstoppable urge to end the war, though all of his warnings fell on deaf ears in his own kingdom.

  He’d made his way across the plains and into the neighboring land. The journey had been hard, and bandits had nearly killed him on more than one occasion, but the boy was strong—and he had made it. In the other kingdom, however, he soon realized there was little he could do… that the leader of that kingdom was a far harder man than his own father. Aela’s fingers clenched around the table. What was she reading? Had Leif written this? No. The words were in the same manuscript as before, the very same style. The style had not been a simple one either, and one that Leif would surely have been unable to copy.

  Closing the imposter, she began her frantic search for the real book. Though, every object that she turned over yielded nothing, and as her search came up empty, she was forced to consider the possibility that the book on the bed was her book. Her bookmark had been in it, and she knew Leif had been too busy to have bothered with such a thing. Unless they were being followed, it would mean the book had changed on its own. Either way, Aela was sure that this meant something terrible.

  She pulled herself back to the bed, and her breath came in short, labored breaths. What was happening? Perhaps she was going mad? Maybe Taeru had never been before her, and her mind was simply going. Easing the book into her lap, she reopened the pages. They still told of the young boy, a boy who had worn a mask to protect the unfortunate peasants of the rival kingdom. They told of a young boy who lived with the healer, and who constantly put himself in danger for those that he didn’t know.

  Nevertheless, there was an undercurrent to the words, and Aela knew that all was not well. The blank pages at the back of the book proved that there was no ending to this story. This story felt as though it was being written as she remained there—but that was impossible and she knew it. What had gotten into her head? No. She had to put the book down, and she would see the following sun whether or not her mind had betrayed her. Leif would be able to tell her.

  Still, the haunting words of that book hung in her mind. She couldn’t deny them, and she couldn’t deny the familiarity of them. Certainly, there were strange points in the book, and when she realized that her curiosity was not sated—she read further. The mask, the healer, the slipping into the castle and saving the friend of a friend. The hero was possibly more valiant than that of the book she’d read before, and yet there was something terrifying about this book. These words spoke so highly of the hero, but they promised that he was in danger. As the book continued, it told of the boy’s life, and how he’d struggled to adjust—pretending not to remember anything about his past. They told of the years that he worked to ensure a little unity and peace within the commoners of the rival kingdom.

  Lastly, she read of the boy’s family still waiting in the neighboring kingdom. She read about his sister, who had finally found the means to travel across the lands to find her brother. She had grown restless in her situation much like the hero had, though her story was much more vague. As she neared the blank pages at the back of the book, she spoke the name that had been hanging on her lips upon reading that first word. “Taeru…” she whispered.

  Was the book about him? Surely not, she thought as she reached the last page. Flipping through, she confirmed that the remainder of the book was blank. No more words, she realized, and the story was anything but complete. Even if this wasn’t some strange sorcery, who left a book unfinished? Especially a book as riveting as this one, or perhaps she only felt that way because all the words seemed to be precisely mirroring her brother’s life

  Still, though, perhaps she’d made it up. Many heroes had sisters that wanted to follow in their footsteps, and warring lands were certainly not uncommon in books such as these. No, the similarities could have been a coincidence, because after all, a book about Taeru’s life—while it would have been fascinating to read—would have been impossible to write, unless he’d written it himself. After all, until very recently, the only one who’d known his whereabouts was him.

  Many of the words didn’t match up, either, she promised herself. The words talked of a romance, a rather passionate one, with the prince of the neighboring kingdom. Aela had seen Taeru kiss someone the previous moon, and he had been no prince. And the odds that Taeru put on a mask and actually moved throughout the city to save those in need was silly at best. She eased herself into a feeble comfort as she pushed the unfinished book away.

  Still, she thought, what is that book? How did an unfinished book end up with my bookmark in it? And where is the book that I had originally, as I’m sure that I did not make it up. Oh, I really hope that I am not going crazy.

  Aela could n
ot let herself worry about it for now, as there was no way to know for sure. When Leif returned, she would be sure to ask him if he knew anything about the book—and then she would find out on the following sun whether or not Taeru was truly within her reach again.

  When Leif returned home, which was far after the sun had set, and Aela had found herself in a tortured sleep, he promised that he had not known anything of a new book. He had not seen Aela’s book either, and he seemed sure that the one she showed him was her book when he saw it. Oh, if only she had let him read the words before they had changed. Leif was like Taeru, though, and he had never expressed interest in any of her books.

  With the knowledge that Leif knew nothing odd about the book, she put it on the small stool next to her bed. First, the meeting tomorrow with the boy who looked remarkably like her brother, and then she could decide what the words in that book were. One thing was for certain, and that was that the book had changed—or rather, the book had been switched with another, unfinished book.

  She had the sneaking suspicion that if she paid attention, she might notice words being filled into the blank pages—but that was absurd, she reminded herself, as books most certainly did not write themselves.

  “The hero had doomed his descendant from the start, to suffering that he would never earn.”

  -A Hero’s Peace, v.ii

  Chapter xxiii

  Calis Tsrali

  “Kilik!” the female voice was petrified, relieved, and shocked all at the same time. The blond woman rushed forward and wrung her arms around Kilik’s neck. Calis ignored the very inappropriate lance of jealousy that shot through him. He had kept Kilik out for the duration of the moon, and half of the sun after it.

  Alyx’s cheeks were red from where she’d been crying, and when she drew back, there was an angry look in her eyes. Calis realized where the moment was going, and just as Alyx reared back to slap Kilik across the face, Calis grabbed her by the wrist. “Miss, I respectfully ask that you do not do that.”