Divided

by Rae Brooks

  Lee had always cared about Calis—certainly not in a romantic sense, but Calis had been very much like a brother to him. They had been friends when they were children, and Calis had been the only reason Lee hadn’t found some reason or another to get himself exiled. Friends—that was what they were, and they always had been. And because they were friends, and Calis worked hard to ensure that Lee remained his friend—Lee wanted to do the same for Calis. Though, until now, the issue of protecting Calis had never come up.

  Of course, Lee had always covered for Calis when he’d gone out on walks when they weren’t allowed. Lee had never wanted to betray Calis for any reason. He had no reason to do so because he trusted his advisee with everything in him. Unfortunately, because of that trust, he found himself unsure what to do now. Calis had allowed himself to get drawn into things that he ought to have known not to be drawn. Yet, he was there—and Calis had no intention of leaving. In ordinary circumstances, Lee would say that was a good thing. Calis was clearly happy.

  The problem was the foundation that happiness stood on. Katt had always been known for being stealthy, and so hanging around Kilik those extra few moment had not been noticed. She had watched him like a bird of prey, trying to determine what he did with his time. Aside from the fact that Kilik had nightmares, though, there was obviously another piece of information that he guarded. Calis knew it—Lee knew it, and yet no one could determine what that piece of information was.

  Until now. Now Lee knew precisely what Kilik was trying to protect. He had done a fairly good job of it. But the relationship with Calis had finally pushed him into vulnerability. Kilik was the Lassau prince. The one that had vanished from Cathalar all those years ago. Now, Taeru Lassau was in Telandus, and he had been for quite some time. Not only that, but Calis was spending time with him—Calis was in love with him!

  Lee hadn’t been able to determine if there was any malice lurking behind the discovery. Kilik—or Taeru—had never tried to convince Calis to let him into the castle. In fact, he’d even discouraged the relationship. If Lee wasn’t mistaken, he’d seen Taeru flinch away from information about the royal family. Guilt. Lee had noticed it when he’d first met the Lassau prince. Guilt drove him. Most of his choices were derived from feelings of guilt. He felt an undue responsibility to help those around him—even people in Telandus.

  Why? Lee wondered. Taeru had no obligation to this kingdom, and he ought to know that—being a former Cathalar prince. Yet he worked to keep the people within Dark District happy, and if Lee’s sources served him correctly, he had actually succeeded. Dark District was, well, flourishing. The people seemed happier, less afraid. In retrospect, Lee had always known that Telandus would fall when the war happened.

  Still, though, knowing that his friend was ingratiating a Cathalar prince worried him. Despite the fact that Taeru had done nothing but good, and he had shown no signs of being untrustworthy—aside from withholding this bit of information—Lee worried about Calis. If Taeru did turn out to be a fraud, then Calis would have his heart shattered into a million pieces. He ought to tell his friend what he’d learned, and yet he’d found himself unable to do so. Oddly enough, he’d developed a sense of loyalty and concern for Taeru. The boy was obviously trying to do what he could for both lands, and when Lee had his informants investigate the boy that had recently become involved in the Magister plot, he’d been further convinced.

  The informant talked of a book, and he said each time he saw the boy, the boy was desperately trying to decipher the book. As if every sun the book changed, and every sun the boy had to retranslate it. Lee wanted that book, and yet he wasn’t going to stoop so low as to steal it. Taeru surely knew about the book. Why else would he have let the boy get involved?

  That was another thing Taeru had failed to mention to Calis. Perhaps the book contained information about who he really was. He obviously didn’t deem it intelligent to explain to Calis who he was. Because of that, Lee didn’t know if he ought to explain it either. If their relationship was real, and using available evidence, Lee was inclined to say that it was—then to tell Calis before Taeru was ready would destroy it.

  Calis would certainly feel more betrayed if he learned the information from someone other than Taeru. At last, Lee let out a breath as he made his decision. He wouldn’t tell Calis, not for some time. After all, he owed it to Calis and Taeru to let the two of them sort it out on their own. Calis understood that there was a past, and he knew that he would have to deal with it. That ought to be enough for now.

  Pulling himself out of the wash, he pulled on the clothes that one of the nosy servants had brought in here. The clothes were a little itchy, and a very bright green. He’d actually informed his mother and father that he liked the color green, and naturally, they had taken to finding every bright piece of green clothing they could find. He ought to appreciate them for trying to please him, despite the fact that he very rarely tried to please them—but the brightness of the greens was very off-putting.

  Now, he should focus on trying to get his hands on the book Aelic seemed so interested in. Why did no one seem to understand that he would be able to comprehend these things much better than other people? Aelic, for his part, though, didn’t trust Calis or Lee as far as he could throw them. And judging from his size, that was not very far at all. Lee probably also ought to focus on determining more about this Magister. She’d clearly placed that obelisk in the grove to exact her power on the lands when the deal was broken.

  Taeru seemed to think that a curse had been put on him, and Lee was very inclined to believe that. He had now seen firsthand the bruises that formed on Taeru’s face as he slept, and Lee was certain that nothing but a curse would cause such things. The only problem was determining why the Magister of Manipulation would place a curse on Taeru Lassau. At first, Lee had thought it was because he was a quick-witted prince in the land of his enemies. That sort of person ought to be easy to manipulate, but as he’d watched these events unfold—he found that the Magister seemed bent on hurting Taeru, destroying him even. Whatever the Magister wanted, Taeru was not going to be the one to cause it.

  Lee headed from his own house, moving to the castle. Calis had left to Dark District earlier, and Lee had promised to stay behind to formulate some sort of alibi for anyone that asked. He had noticed, recently though, that fewer people asked him. Another issue that had been keeping his mind from the Magister. Why had people become less interested? Or had they become more interested? If Calis was being followed, then Taeru would be in more trouble than either of them could comprehend.

  Ordinarily, Lee would have worried about Calis. Lavus would certainly punish Calis if he knew what the prince had been up to, but the one who would feel the most of the wrath would be Taeru. That, in itself, though, would tear Calis apart worse than any disownment or whipping could ever hurt. Lee winced at the idea. He should have been paying more attention to the servants.

  Lavus wouldn’t stoop so low as to spy on his own son, though. He was much too filled with self-importance to engage in such a practical task. No, he would have involved servants, trying to get other people to get the information for him. And, Lavus would obviously not want anyone to know that his son was being less than perfect, so he would be very careful about who he chose for the job.

  As Lee entered the castle, his mouth began to twitch. There were several possibilities. Lavus had plenty of trusted servants that were not nobles, though they had come to hold Lavus’s favor. Someone trusted. Lee would have to get someone to monitor the influx of Dark District—and if any new servants or nobles were coming and going, then he ought to hear about it. It might be a tad difficult, with all the louts that entered and went with the intention of terrorizing the commoners.

  Lee had a bad taste in his mouth at the thought. As he walked along the castle courtyard, a shuffling off to the side broke his train of thought. Oddly enough, that hadn’t been very hard to do lately. The person who approached was dressed in a grey tunic, with a hat
that would have been strange if this hadn’t been the courier.

  For a moment, Lee wasn’t sure that the courier was going to speak. He seemed a little out of breath, but Lee knew that couriers spent nearly all of their time running from place to place. This couldn’t have been that much of an errand. “I think I have a message for you” the man finally gasped. This was especially odd, Lee thought. Couriers rarely sought him out—mostly because he had so few dealings with people. And Calis was just not the courier-using type. He always insisted on doing things himself. Even stranger was that the courier said he thought he had a message for Lee. That was the kind of thing, Lee thought, that ought to be verified.

  “You think?” he asked dryly.

  The man offered a wary nod. His eyes traced Lee, as if they were trying to convince himself that he hadn’t made a mistake. “I was told to find someone wearing green, and someone who seems aloof and disinterested in the people around him. You are the only one here that fits that description, sir.” That was a pretty fair description of Lee.

  Without speaking, Lee affirmed the courier’s suspicion with a nod. “What is the message, and who is it from?” he said inquisitively. Well, Lee was glad to have something else to focus on for a moment. His mind had been so filled with intensity that even he had to admit he was getting a little overwhelmed by it all.

  “It ah…” The man seemed beside himself. Whatever he said next was either going to shock Lee, or make him laugh. People always got so worked up about things in the Shining District. Whereas, Dark District handled kidnappings as if they were part of setting sun tea. Lee quirked his eyebrow to urge the man to finish. “It’s from Dark District, sir. They would not identify themselves, but they tipped well—and promised me that you would understand.” The man extended a small slip of parchment, folding into sixteen different sections.

  The only person Lee knew who bothered to fold paper so much was his best informant, Katt Manali. Though, the fact that she had risked a courier between the two of them, especially when she didn’t know his name, was curious. She ought to feel blessed that she’d found a courier willing to attempt her daring request. “She must have tipped very well,” Lee said sharply. The man just nodded.

  With another nod, he dismissed the courier, who was quick to scurry into the distance. He’d obviously been wondering if he was going to survive the encounter without severely offending someone. The note was simple and in handwriting that was not altogether distinct. “I have something for you. This moon.”

  A place or a time wasn’t specified, which was why Lee didn’t mind working with Katt. She pretended to be airheaded, and yet she seemed to understand the ins and outs of their dealings better than any of his other informants. She had never called a meeting on her own before, and so his curiosity burned within him. He was crestfallen at the idea that he had to wait until the sun set.

  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.