Divided

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Divided Page 75

by Rae Brooks


  Lee pinched his forehead between his fingers, the sight glowering in his mind. He had wanted to get through life without that particular image. Then, he realized Tareth was writhing, twisting, and there was an amulet with a ruby in it on the floor. Tareth screamed curses into the air, and Lee took a breath. Tareth was blinded, and Lee would know—since he made the serum that had blinded the man. “Tareth,” he said flatly, “I realize you are having trouble seeing, but are you aware that you are not wearing pants?”

  “YOU! YOU!” Tareth swung at nothing, as he was nowhere near within range of Lee to actually be able to grab him. Lee didn’t move, and he didn’t move to help Tareth. Then, the feeling that Lee had been trying to hold back forced his head to turn—forced him to see what he’d done.

  There he was, without his clothes, though saying Taeru’s skin was exposed would have been an overstatement. Blood had spilled all across his form, smearing along his thighs to his ankles. His entire torso was lined with rivulets of crimson, and then, running from his mouth were several steady streams of it. “By the Light!” Lee choked. What have I done?

  “KILL HIM!” Tareth shouted. “KILL HIM NOW!” Tareth screeched. His body was fumbling, clueless as to its location. Moments later, the guards appeared in the room. Lee moved towards Taeru, seeing the purple flower on his abdomen. “GUARDS!”

  “You will do no such thing, guards!” Lee barked. “Your king has not given you permission to do anything of the sort.”

  Tareth let out another ear-splitting scream, and he dropped to his knees, covering his eyes. He couldn’t see, and his neck had tiny beads of blood all along it. The amulet sat inconspicuously in the floor next to him. Lee had to work to keep the grim smirk from his face. “You rat!” Tareth hissed. “I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him and make Calis watch!” He laughed, a deranged sort of sound.

  Lee glared backwards. “Go clean yourself up, Tareth!” Lee growled. “Guards, take him.” When Tareth continued to blather incoherently, Lee narrowed his eyes. He needed to tend to Taeru—now. “Be silent, Tareth—lest I tell your father that you have been fucking sewer rats.” His words were more hateful than he’d wanted, but from the looks of things, the people in the cells were too far gone to care.

  When two of the guards moved to Tareth’s side, one grabbing his pants, to guide him towards the stairs, the prince only fought a little. He squirmed, obviously frustrated by the sight that had been suddenly taken from him. He shouted blackly, things that meant nothing, cursing Taeru, cursing Calis. As they got him to the stairs, both of the guards looking a little bemused, Tareth shouted backwards. “Make him walk,” Tareth hissed. “Wherever you take him—make him walk!”

  With a frown, Lee scrambled over to Taeru. Taeru was a mess, but he wasn’t dead. His body was shaking, obviously miserable at its exposure. Lee could see the black insects crawling all along the petals of the flower on his abdomen. Gently, he eased the roots from the crevices in Taeru’s body. They came away fairly easily and Lee threw the flower to the floor. Taeru’s whimpering was making him sick.

  Lee had never noticed how utterly small Calis’s lover was before. He was tiny. His wrists were bound above him, crossed over one another—while his feet were fastened in a device at the edge of the table. Blood was spilling from his mouth at an alarming rate—what sort of internal injury would cause such heavy bleeding from the mouth? The boy’s eyes were closed, as though he was anticipating another blow. A fair anticipation. Lee gently undid his wrists and then his feet. “Stay,” Lee commanded, as kindly as he could without alerting the two guards still waiting.

  Taeru didn’t move, though probably because he couldn’t. Lee grabbed the prince’s bloodied pants, and with a little help from Taeru, he eased them back up to the blood-stained waist. He tried to ignore the bloody lines along Taeru’s thighs. Taeru was murmuring, whispering words that Lee didn’t understand. The cut on Taeru’s chest was a swirl, and Lee could make out the purple and red bruising from busted veins along the cuts. They matched ones already formed on his arms and legs. These were worse, though, bold and dangerous in appearance.

  His breath was constant, if a little erratic, and Lee assured himself that Taeru didn’t appear to be dying. There were bruises on his cheeks, and one hard mark where Tareth had probably caught him after the amulet had triggered. Finally, Lee could hear Taeru’s words. “I can’t walk—I can’t walk—I can’t walk…” He was terrified, just begging incoherently to the few words he could understand.

  “Shh,” Lee whispered. Blood just splashed out of Taeru’s mouth every time he opened it, and frankly, Lee found himself terrified by it. “I’m not going to make you walk,” he promised, too low for the guards to hear.

  This is… madness…

  Taeru’s body was so war torn and broken that Lee wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to vomit. Taeru had refused to give information in this state? Lee’s lips pressed into a hard line at the thought. Calis is going to die a million times over…

  The promise of not walking seemed to have silenced Taeru, though he continued to cry quietly and shiver at the slightest touch. “Go see what his majesty wishes me to do with him,” Lee said warily to the men. Perhaps they would leave—both—and Lee could get Taeru out of here, now. To his dismay, though, only one nodded and moved back up the stairwell. Lee looked through the rips in Taeru’s pants to see the bruises that indicated walking would have been nearly impossible. Tareth had made him walk—had he actually walked?

  Taeru was mumbling again, and Lee tried to move so that he could hear the words properly. Anything he could do to ease Taeru’s mind, he ought to do it. However, when he heard the words, even his heart felt entirely broken. “Calis…” Taeru was whimpering Calis’s name, without rhyme or reason.

  Very gently, Lee bent his head to whisper to Taeru again, where the guard could not hear. “He didn’t tell them, Taeru—it was me, it was me. I’m so sorry. I had to—I’m sorry…” Guilt slammed into him, sickening him.

  Taeru’s eyes finally widened in shock. After a few slow, agonizing moments, he choked. His lips remained parted and finally words articulated. “I wanted to help them—I only did it for that… I wasn’t…”

  “I know,” Lee hissed in return. “I know that.”

  “Calis?” Taeru whimpered.

  Lee glanced back to the guard, ensuring that the man wasn’t listening too closely. His green eyes found Taeru with growing softness. “Everything is going to be okay,” he promised, quietly.

  Silence reigned over the room, then. Lee watched Taeru tenderly, desperate to see that the boy wasn’t going to die. The blood coming from his mouth seemed to have no source, though it poured without much relent. A few moments later, footsteps sounded on the stairs, and the other guard appeared in the hallway. “Take him to the execution cell,” the man said informatively. “His majesty wishes to hang him—at dusk.” Lee’s body clenched in reaction. He would have to hurry. Then, the guard spoke again thoughtfully. “His majesty also requests your audience, sir.” That was precisely what Lee wanted to hear.

  When his eyes moved to Taeru, there was agonized terror in the breathtakingly blue eyes. Hanging—execution—Taeru was trying to be brave, but there were tears just beneath his eyes, and his shaking worsened slightly. “It will be okay,” Lee promised again, and then he slowly lifted the boy from the table.

  “You aren’t making him walk?” one of the guards asked.

  Lee just gave him a flat smile. “We would be here for an eternity if we had him walk—don’t be absurd.” The man accepted this with a nod of his head. The guards were trying not to look at Taeru, probably because they knew this was wrong, too. “Did you mention this place to his majesty?”

  “I… ah, yes.”

  “Good,” Lee said with a satisfied smirk. Enjoy what doing this to Taeru has brought you, Tareth. Enjoy it while you can.

  The execution cell wasn’t far, and Taeru sat in frightened silence, quivering slightly and choking occasionally as they walked to it
. The cell was on the first level of the dungeon, and the cell was a single, small gray room.

  One of the guards unlocked it, and Lee entered it, sitting Taeru against the wall. He glanced at the shackles above the boy’s head. Lee had to do it—he had to put Taeru’s arms in them, lock them over his head, as though he was some sort of threat. Lee wasn’t sure he could loathe himself any more than he did. This is necessary.

  Without prompting, Lee grabbed Taeru’s arms and fastened the shackles about his wrists. Taeru winced, glancing up at the shackles warily. The position didn’t look comfortable, and Lee muttered a quiet apology before he stood. “That should be it, sir,” one of the guards said. “His majesty is awaiting your audience.”

  Lee turned away from Taeru, trying desperately to get the image out of his mind. He had a job to do, and if he let sentiment get in the way—he would have no way to atone for all of this. As he headed for the cell’s doorway, a hoarse voice interrupted him. Taeru.

  “Wait,” he begged. Lee stiffened.

  Don’t beg me, Taeru. Don’t do it. I won’t be able to refuse you. Don’t ruin this now.

  When Lee tentatively stared forward, not wanting to turn and look into those bottomless blue eyes, Taeru continued. “Please, tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I didn’t mean to deceive him—I really didn’t…” With another breath, Taeru silenced himself shortly. He wasn’t going to beg—no, he was worried about Calis. Lee wished he could inform Taeru how wrong he was. Taeru was the one apologizing, now? His guilt clearly knew no bounds.

  Turning back, Lee met Taeru’s eyes with assurance. “I’ll do you one better,” he mouthed, and then he turned and shut the door to the cell.

  Ignoring the other guards, Lee headed up to meet Lavus in the throne room. The image of Taeru, bound to the wall, haunted him as he walked. He wasn’t sure that he would ever get that image out of his mind. He had to protect Taeru, for Calis’s sake, and for his own sanity. He had caused this—and now he had better stop it.

  Every step was filled with the memory of Taeru, and every step the memory was more vivid and more painful. By the time he reached the throne room, his knees felt as though they might buckle underneath him. No, he had to act this out—he had to do this one, last time, to ensure that he finished the job he had started.

  Lee took a breath as he pushed the door open. The throne room felt as though it might consume him, but Lavus stood at the other end of it—waiting for him. He hoped that he could pull this off, even with the guilt that was threatening to destroy him. Lee was relieved to see that Tareth was nowhere to be found. A few more steps and he was within range of Lavus, and so he bowed. Please, let this work. Light have mercy… let me save him.

  The king’s eyes flickered for a moment when they saw Lee, and to the advisor’s relief, they brightened. He looked a mixture of amused and irritated. He was no doubt reeling from the idea that even his lesser son had been fucking Dark Districters. “Keiichi,” Lavus spoke smoothly. Lee said nothing immediately, making sure to collect his thoughts. “I trust you saw my son’s disgusting habits for yourself?”

  “Yes,” Lee answered immediately. He had to force himself to do this—but his mind was so tormented by thoughts of Taeru that he wasn’t functioning as he should be. “Men are lustful creatures, though, my lord,” he said woefully.

  “A trait in both of my sons that is causing me much grief,” Lavus said thoughtfully. “But, the Cathalari, how did he manage to blind my son? Are you aware?” The man was genuinely curious—he didn’t know. How could he, when the amulet was still lying in the floor of Tareth’s room of terror?

  Lee realized he had his opportunity, and all he would have to do was speak clearly and fluently, without bursting into tears over what he’d done to Taeru—and he would have finished the job that he’d promised to finish. “Yes,” Lee answered slowly, “there was an amulet. The present that Calis gave to Tareth for his sun of birth. It appears to have contained some sort of toxin that wreaked havoc on Tareth’s eyes. I assume the Cathalari had some way to trigger it.” His words were fluid, just as they were supposed to sound.

  Lavus seemed agitated for a single moment, and then a smirk moved across his lips. “What a deceitful and conniving thing to do—I wasn’t sure that Calis had the capability. Perhaps he is not lost entirely, though I would love to know how he managed such a device. And the reason he chose to sabotage his brother.”

  The thoughts were beginning to calm, and Lee could feel himself regaining control of the situation. He swallowed, and he shook his head. “I’m unsure, your majesty. Though… if you would permit me to see him, I might be able to get a few answers.” His words were casual, as though he didn’t care one way or the other. Yet, his heart felt suspended in the air over an endless chasm.

  The king stared blankly at Lee for a few moments, as if processing the words he’d said. He frowned, then. “I don’t know, perhaps I ought to speak with him about it… I doubt you could intimidate my son to the degree that I can.”

  Lee felt himself scrambling mentally, though he kept his words even and disinterested. This was far more difficult than he’d imagined. Seeing Taeru like that had really twisted his insides. So much blood. “I just thought, as Calis tends to respond so negatively to intimidation, that I could convince him to tell me… in confidence.”

  Again, Lavus paused, as though he were processing the request in intimate detail. Again, Lee felt as though his insides were about to explode. Then, Lavus pursed his lips and offered a tentative nod. “Perhaps you are right. My son has not been very receptive, and you two seem to have a decent rapport.”

  “That we do, sir,” Lee said.

  “Fair enough. Go see him at once. Report back to me what you find. If you find nothing, do not lie—I will know.” Lee could feel elation spread through him like an illness. “I will make preparations to hang that bloody prince. Don’t be too long,” Lavus said, “only a few shifts till dusk. And I expect my eldest son to be present.” Glancing to one of the servants, Lavus flicked his wrist. “Ensure that the guards know that Lee Keiichi is cleared to see my son.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “You cannot kill that which will not die.”

  -A Hero’s Peace v.ii

  Chapter li

  Calis Tsrali

  Pain split through Calis’s mind, and his fingers dug into the stone beneath him. Images that he couldn’t erase plagued his mind. The bits of sleep he’d gotten in between his lapses of aching wakefulness had always left him with horrifying visions of the things that Lavus would do to Taeru. He saw them now, like a dance in front of his eyes, and when he closed them—the dance only grew more vivid. Screams that he could do nothing to quiet, whimpers that he could do nothing to soothe—they played a tempo in his mind.

  Calis was sure that it had been over two cycles, and Taeru had been Lavus and Tareth’s prisoner for two cycles. And now—they knew. Now, they knew Taeru was the Phantom Blade. Why? Why had Lee told them that? There was nothing to gain from that information—all that information would lead to was Taeru being tormented further. Tears streamed down his face as he thought of it. Lee had betrayed him in the worst way.

  To think that Lee had seen the way Calis looked at Taeru, and he had known Calis was in love with him—and yet he had still chosen to betray Taeru to Lavus and Tareth. He must have known that Tareth would want to exact revenge on Taeru. There was no reason for it—none. Especially given that Taeru had only become the Phantom Blade to help Dark District. He was being punished for helping Telandus. They were the ones that ought to be tortured, if they wanted there to be justice throughout the kingdom. Taeru had done nothing but good, and yet Calis could only imagine what they were doing to him now.

  Oh, and imagine it he did. He saw the thousand different ways they would touch Taeru. His fingers trembled as he stared blankly at the blood-soaked rag in his hands. He brought it to his lips, sobbing silently, and the dried blood felt like a poison and an antidote on his hands. The rag even
smelled like Taeru, vaguely, and mixed with other, terrible scents—but Taeru’s scent was on the rag. For that reason, Calis couldn’t do away with it. A rag soaked in blood of the man he loved—and yet because he missed Taeru so badly, he couldn’t discard it.

  After Lavus had left the last time, Calis had fastened the amulet around his neck. He would be a Lassau before he would be known as a Tsrali. He wanted nothing to do with the name—with the house. He wanted Taeru, and he needed him more than it was possible to need another person—to need anything. Taeru felt more crucial to him than the air that he breathed. The air felt inconsequential when compared to those soft, blue eyes, that lithe form, the quiet temerity, the dimples—all of it. It felt so necessary to Calis. And yet, the person Calis had thought was his best friend had betrayed Taeru, and therefore, Calis.

  There was something altogether horrible about that. Though, Calis didn’t have the emotions to mourn for the loss of his friend. He felt entirely exhausted with the way his mind desperately sought to destroy the room around him. He could only see his own helplessness, his own uselessness, when he looked around. He could feel the pain of failing the only person he’d ever loved, and that feeling consumed him entirely. There was nothing else, except the growing desire to hold Taeru. “I love you,” he whispered into the silence.

  I would do anything for you. I would—and the fact that I can’t get out of this forsaken room hurts me more than anything they’ll ever do to you. Oh, I want to know… I want to see you. I love you so much, Taeru… please, please be alright… please, hold on.

  Images came back to his mind, and Calis bowed his head. How could he be so useless? Through his entire life, Calis had been renowned for being competent in every area—and yet, for the first time, he truly cared about an outcome, and nothing he did could change it. His entire body ached from clawing at the walls, from banging on the floors, from tearing at the shackles, and yet none of them had yielded results. No, he could do nothing to save the love of his life—and consequently, the only person that he would ever love.

 

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