Divided (25 page)

After fighting for a few moments, Taeru got up the courage
to glance to the place to which he was being dragged.  To his surprise, the
structure had opened, with a long, single rod protruding up from it.  There was
something odd about the opening of the structure—and Taeru realized belatedly
that it was meant to hold something—it was meant to hold him.  Letting out a
shocked scream, he began fighting with more vigor.

He couldn’t let himself be pulled inside of that thing.  If
he allowed that, then it would certainly be able to cause him all sorts of
pain—and if it could do that, then it would be more well-fed than any creature
so evil should ever be.  He didn’t know how, but the creature would destroy
Cathalar and Telandus—all of Elyst—if he didn’t get away from it.  Still—everything
hurt, and he didn’t know how to escape.

Another tentacle shot outwards, wrapping around his ankle
and preventing his fight even further.  He let out a desperate cry, and then
the world faded to black.

Taeru’s dreams had left him shaken, but they hadn’t given
him a fever yet.  He had heard the whispers in his ears, but he was fairly
certain that they weren’t there—and that he was only imagining them.  The dream
had been two suns ago, which meant that he had largely gotten it out of his
mind.

Still, the haunting image of that twisted
obelisk—desperately trying to pull him towards it, to start an infinite sequence
of torture on his body that would certainly destroy more than his own life—plagued
him.  His hands still trembled when he thought of it.  He longed for Manali to
let him know of an extra shipment, as working was the only thing that
successfully kept his mind from the horrifying images.

That, or the Phantom Blade—but that would not have been
advisable as his side was still incredibly sore, and his finger was no less
broken than it had been those few suns ago.  Once again, the traveler was not
around when Taeru expected him to be, and so he’d been unable to deduce where
the man had been before his convenient return.

Thinking back on the interaction, he wasn’t sure if he’d
have found a way out of the trap by himself—as he’d been lured out foolishly
before—but he knew he’d be far more hurt if the blond hadn’t shown up when he
did.  Or Taeru may have actually been dead—there was no way for him to know.

However, the man had shown up, and though Taeru had thanked
him awkwardly as the Phantom Blade—he was sure that the man had earned more
than that.  Unfortunately, he never seemed to be around unless Taeru was
occupied with other things.  Then again, seeing the traveler this sun may well
have given away who he was.  Perhaps not, though, as he was ensuring that the
injuries he had were not obvious.  The gashes on his back and side were covered,
and he had much practice pretending as though wounds weren’t present.

His finger made handling objects a little more difficult,
but his gloves covered that particular dilemma rather well.  As he gathered the
supplies Juliet had requested from the market and paid accordingly, he couldn’t
help continuing to wonder about the elusive blond.  They had run into one
another at the dance, and then the man had come to Juliet’s for healing.

And now, the Phantom Blade had run into him twice as well. 
There did seem to be a pattern that meant that the traveler might be following
him.  Taeru realized for the first time that the guy could be spying on him,
and that sent a horror burning down his throat.  He had been so completely
taken with the man that he would have never expected that the man was trying to
figure something out.  Nevertheless, that would be a reasonable assumption for
why the young man always seemed to be there when—well… when Taeru wasn’t
expecting him.

Still, why would someone obviously trying to find out
information help Taeru in the way he had?  If he had stood idly by while the
nobles had figured out Taeru’s identity, then surely he’d have all the
information he needed.  Unless he wanted to be the one to relay the information,
and if he’d helped the nobles—they’d never have given him any credit.

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 directly 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.