The Fading Dusk

by Melissa Giorgio

  All of a sudden, Leonid started making a strange noise. Startled, I looked up, wondering if he was choking, but I quickly realized he was laughing. It was a low chuckle that came from deep within his chest, causing his whole body to shake. It was so surprising that it caught me off guard—it was something I’d never expected to see the stoic captain do.

  When I finally realized why he was so amused, I shouted, “Leonid!” I pointed an accusing finger at him. “You liar! This is your card, isn’t it?!”

  “I’m sorry,” he gasped, wiping a tear from his eye. “I’m so sorry, but the look on your face when I said no…” He started laughing again.

  I smacked him on the shoulder with the deck of cards, which only made him laugh harder. “Hmph.” I dropped the cards on my dresser and stalked away. “That’s the last time I do any magic for you.” Sitting down on my bed, I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated, trying to compose himself. “Don’t be mad, Lark. It was a good trick. How did you do it?”

  I turned my face away, pointing my nose in the air like I’d once seen a snooty woman from Rise do when I’d accidentally run into her. “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. People always asked Bantheir how he did his tricks, and that’s the answer he always gave. He said it wasn’t right to ruin the illusion.” I snorted. “That didn’t stop him from trying to figure out Parnaby’s tricks.”

  Leonid leaned against my dresser, absently shuffling the deck of cards. “You know Parnaby?”

  I nodded. “We watched his shows many, many times. Bantheir always considered him his greatest rival.”

  “Did he, now?” Leonid’s stance and words suggested indifference, but I had the feeling he was acting, and I wanted to know why.

  “Do you know Parnaby, then?”

  “Everyone does,” he said, turning away to place the cards back on my dresser.

  I remembered Elyse referring to Leonid by his first name and wondered again about the nature of their relationship. “Do they come to the prison often? To help others? Parnaby and Elyse, I mean. His assistant.” When he didn’t respond, I quickly added, “Elyse delivered fresh clothes to me.”

  “I know.”

  Startled, I asked, “You knew?” I was under the impression Aden had sneaked her in and out without anyone knowing.

  Leonid smirked. “Lark, I know everything that goes on in my prison. And to answer your question, no, they don’t make a habit of visiting the prison and helping wrongfully convicted prisoners secure their freedom.” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s odd, but they were quite interested in you, right from the start.”

  I frowned. There was something I wasn’t being told, but who was the one hiding the truth from me? Elyse? Leonid? Better yet, why were they keeping secrets? “Do you know why?”

  “I’m sure their reason is the same as mine and Vern’s.” He nodded toward me. “You’re innocent. And none of us will stop until you’re free.” Leonid’s gaze turned fierce. “That means finding—and capturing—Bantheir. I know this ordeal is causing you a great deal of pain, Lark, but stopping Bantheir has always been my goal from the beginning.”

  Irritation surged through me. “No, your goal is revenge.”

  “It’s the same thing,” Leonid countered. “And stop pretending this is news to you. You knew from the start what I wanted.” He paused. “Or do you want more to die?”

  “Of course I don’t!” I yelled, horrified that he would even think that of me. “I’m not protesting your search for Bantheir because I’m some unfeeling witch! It’s because each time I think he’s guilty I feel so awful that I want to die.” I pressed my hands against my stomach, forcing out the next words. “I’m not a fool—I see what’s going on, I understand why you think…” A rancid taste filled my mouth and I clapped a hand over my mouth, praying that I wouldn’t be sick.

  He crossed the bedroom in two strides, kneeling in front of me. “All right, I understand. Don’t force yourself. Don’t hurt yourself like this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said such a thoughtless thing.” He reached for me, like he wanted to clasp my hand in his, but at the last moment he pulled away, sucking in a deep, shaky breath. He was still the same serious, stoic man I’d come to know, but there was a bit of nervousness to his stance, which in turn made me nervous. “Lark, listen to me. Your faith in Bantheir through this whole ordeal is one of the things I admire about you. To believe in someone so wholeheartedly… It’s amazing.” He dropped his eyes to the floor. “And it’s been killing me inside, knowing how much his capture will destroy you. But I don’t…” His voice lowered to a whisper. “I don’t want anyone else to lose someone they love, the way Gerald’s family did, the way I did…”

  My eyes were burning, my heart aching. “But I’ll lose Bantheir, and I love him.”

  He gave me such a sad look, it took my breath away. It was as if Leonid was feeling everything I was feeling—maybe even more.

  How did he know me so well? When had this happened? And why wasn’t I scared of it, like I should have been? Leonid was changing things, changing me, and I wanted it. Desperately.

  There was an intense look on his face, his dark eyes glowing with unspoken promises. He leaned forward. “Lark, I—”

  I heard the familiar sound of the front door opening and Vernen called out a greeting. Leonid cursed softly under his breath before pulling away, conflict in his eyes. Quickly diverting his gaze, he headed to the hallway. “We’re up here, Vern.”

  I half-listened to their conversation as I sat on the bed, trembling slightly. The air in the room was charged, like the moments before a thunderstorm. It made me feel jumpy, like I had too much energy coursing through my veins. I stood, then sat again, taking a deep breath. What had just happened?

  Maybe I was being foolish, I thought. Maybe I was imagining things. But—no, that look on his face, right before he’d been interrupted; I hadn’t imagined that.

  Leonid reentered the room with Vernen. The other soldier looked around, a smile on his face as he observed my collection. There was an ugly black-and-blue bruise around his swollen eye. I winced in sympathy; Dainde had gotten him good. “I take it you two haven’t found anything?” he asked.

  “So far, no,” Leonid said. “It was a long shot, though.”

  “I-I haven’t finished checking up here,” I stammered, turning red. I wondered if Leonid knew I hadn’t even started looking yet. Overcome with homesickness, and now fluttering butterflies in my stomach, I’d completely forgotten about the Essence.

  “What were you doing all this time, then?” Leonid asked with a smirk. “Playing with your toys?”

  Vernen punched him in the shoulder before I could answer. “I could ask the same of you. What were you doing up here, Leon?”

  “Lark was showing me a magic trick,” he answered coolly, rubbing his shoulder.

  “A magic trick,” Vernen repeated. “We have a madman on the loose and you’re doing magic tricks?”

  “It made him laugh,” I offered weakly.

  Vernen blinked. And blinked some more. Looking first at me and then at Leonid, he began shaking his head. “I don’t believe it.”

  “No, he really did. Tell him, Leonid.”

  Leonid, for some reason, had turned away, pretending to study the objects on my dresser with an intense obsession. His stance was stiff, though, and I could see the tips of his ears turning red.

  “Well, well, well,” Vernen said, grinning widely. “It must have been real magic, Irina, because this uptight fool never laughs.” His blue eyes danced with mirth. “Tell me, did you cast a spell on Leon?”

  For some reason, now I was the one turning red. Throwing my hands up in the air, I said, “I’m going to check Bantheir’s rooms! Alone! I don’t need any help!”

  I tore out of the room like there was an angry dog chasing after me, Vernen’s laughter ringing in my ears.

  WE TORE THE ROOMS APART, b
ut we found nothing that matched the description of the Essence. When I disturbed a rat from under the bed in the spare bedroom and screamed loud enough that both Leonid and Vernen rushed in with their knives drawn, we decided to call it a day. The sun had started to sink, a cloak of darkness settling over Dusk.

  Every step toward the prison was a stab in my heart. Voluntarily walking away from my house was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. The two men kept throwing concerned glances in my direction, but I kept my head down, saying nothing. What could I possibly say? Let me stay? We all knew Leonid couldn’t do that, even if he wanted to. I didn’t want to risk getting him in trouble for my selfish needs.

  It’ll be over soon. Maybe that was true, and maybe it wasn’t. While I wanted my freedom, I also wanted a happy outcome that involved going home with Bantheir. A return to normalcy, where we performed street magic for the residents of Dusk.

  Why couldn’t I have that?

  When we returned to the prison, Leonid paused, his eyes troubled. I thought for a moment he would pull me aside and finish what he’d been about to tell me in my bedroom, but instead, he shook his head, wished me goodnight, and disappeared.

  Hurt, I watched him leave. I was such a fool.

  Vernen threw an arm around my shoulder, surprising me. “What a long day,” he said with a yawn. We walked to my cell, pausing for him to unlock the door.

  I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Are you going back to the slums?”

  “Tomorrow, I will. Leon may be able to run around on fifteen minutes of sleep, but I need my rest. All eight glorious hours of it. And if he wakes me up early, I swear I’ll kill him.”

  I laughed at that, surprised I was able to after such an emotional day. Smiling, Vernen gave me a quick hug. “Everything is going to be fine, Irina. You’ll see.” He pulled away without another word, locking the cell and waving to me over his shoulder. I collapsed on the bench, watching him go. He was so sweet… I had half-expected him to tease me about what may or may not have happened with Leonid today, but instead, he’d been concerned. Is that what friends were like? I hugged myself, feeling a sudden warmth deep inside of me. Despite everything that had happened to me, I felt lucky to have met Vernen.

  And Leonid. The warmth transformed into something else entirely—butterflies and nerves and… happiness. But when I thought about how he’d abruptly left, the happiness soured into something bitter. Had everything been in my head? I’d sworn I felt a connection back in my bedroom, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe he only saw me as a means of capturing Bantheir, a way to finally have his revenge.

  After all, I was just a girl from the slums, stupidly naïve and incredibly stubborn.

  The next two days passed in a slow, gray blur as I sat in my cell, surrounded by dark thoughts. Worry over Bantheir. Heartsick over Leonid. And fury at myself, for making myself crazy over Leonid. But if he would just come and explain his behavior… I was beginning to think he was avoiding me altogether. Vernen visited twice, bringing me a fresh change of clothes—pants, this time—and some old, yellowed books he thought I might like.

  I never asked for Leonid, but Vernen took it upon himself to tell me Leonid was busy traveling between the slums and the president’s home in Rise. He assured me Leonid wanted to visit, wanted to free me from my cell for even a few, short hours, if he could. His reassurances were sweet, but I wished they’d come from Leonid himself. Every moment that passed without seeing him made me wonder if I’d done or said something wrong. Had I misinterpreted our moments together? Was I clinging to something only I could see?

  Then on the third day, as if summoned by my thoughts, Leonid appeared. It was mid-afternoon; a weak light streamed through the two open windows and the air was chilly. Leonid wasted no time unlocking the door and stepping into my cell. My heart skipped a beat. His plainclothes were rumpled and splattered with mud; he must have just returned and come straight here to see me, while I’d been making myself miserable mulling over dark, hateful thoughts.

  Stupid Irina, stupid, stupid. When will you ever learn? I needed to trust people. I needed to trust Leonid. If I didn’t, I’d spend my life lonely and miserable.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked, kneeling in front of me. He smelled of the wind and a spicy meat vendors sold from their carts, and my stomach gave a hopeful rumble. Leonid smirked. “Come on.” He stood and held a hand out for me to grasp.

  His warm fingers wrapped around my ice-cold ones. “Where?” I asked.

  “My quarters.”

  Not too long ago, the thought of spending time in there alone with the surly captain sent tremors of fear racing through me. Now I shook not with fear, but with anticipation. I didn’t know what he wanted, what he expected, but I would treasure our precious time together.

  Leonid unlocked the door and let me step in first. The room was the same as I’d last seen it, if a bit messier. The papers had seemed to multiply, covering every available surface. Leonid rushed to clear a chair for me; while he worked I turned to observe the map on the wall. A star had been drawn in with a heavy, black line. The potential fifth spot wasn’t marked with a red dot, but circled in white. Notecards covered in Leonid’s cramped writing had been tacked all around the circle; I squinted to decipher some of his notes.

  “…abandoned building, full of squatters—after the raid, we sent them north, to Way, under the president’s orders…”

  “…family of six, under our watch…”

  “…no feeling here…”

  “Feeling?” I repeated. “Do you mean your instinct?”

  Leonid joined me, carrying a paper sack that emitted the same spicy smell that clung to his clothes. “It’s a large area; I’ve been patrolling it every moment I can, searching for anything.” He held the sack open and I reached in, pulling out a wrapped sandwich. We both walked back to his desk to eat. “We desperately want to find him before he strikes again.”

  I nodded as I chewed. The chicken, wrapped in a light bread, was moist and covered in a sauce that was both sweet and spicy. Simple street food, probably purchased in the slums, and yet it was one of the most delicious things I’d ever eaten. “Have you closed off the area? If there aren’t any people there, there won’t be a murder, right?”

  “Exactly.” Leonid looked pained. “Unfortunately, it’s a heavily populated area—like most of the slums—and most residents have no desire to listen to the soldiers telling them to leave. After rioting broke out, we backed off.”

  “A riot! Was anyone hurt?” Even though Leonid sat in front of me, unharmed, I still pictured unspeakable things happening to him. And Vernen. And even… Aden. I didn’t expect to care for his well-being, but I realized I did. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

  “A few bruises and a couple of broken bones,” Leonid said, “but no deaths, thankfully.” He finished his sandwich, crumpling up the wax paper and tossing it back inside the bag. I followed suit a moment later.

  Leonid settled back in his seat, studying me with half-lidded eyes. I felt a flutter of panic; had he brought me here simply to stare at me?

  “W-What?” I asked, wondering if I had sauce on my face. I imagined Leonid was the type who wouldn’t point that out, silently laughing over it instead. Or maybe not so silently—stupidly, I almost wished he would start laughing. I’d enjoyed listening to it, the other day.

  My face began heating up. What was wrong with me? I wished he would speak, putting me out of my misery.

  “How have you been?” he asked, breaking through my thoughts. “I wanted to see you earlier, but I’ve been so busy.” Leonid rubbed his face tiredly. “And it’s only going to get worse, I can already tell. I know it’s not much, but if we can continue to meet up like this, whenever we can…” He trailed off, looking at me hopefully.

  “I’d like that.” Then I frowned. “I should probably let you know that I was thinking some pretty mean things these past two days.”

  His familiar scowl appeared. “‘Mean things’? Not toward me
, I hope.”

  “Who else?” The scowl deepened and I started laughing. Leonid looked momentarily baffled, but then his face relaxed, replacing the scowl with a small smile. It wasn’t much, but it sent my heart racing all the same.

  “Oh, that’s right, I have something for you,” he said, leaning over and pulling a desk drawer open. “Actually, it was yours to begin with, so I’m simply returning it…”

  I had no idea what he meant until he placed my silver bracelets on the desk; they chimed together softly, the metal catching in the lamplight. But I barely paid them any attention. Leonid was fishing around in the drawer once more, and I held my breath, wondering…

  And then he pulled my necklace out, the lark dangling not from a cord, but from a thin, silver chain. I held out my hands, cradling the charm reverently.

  “As you can see, I replaced the cord.” Leonid ran a hand through his hair, looking nervous. “I hope that makes up for ripping it off your neck in the first place.”

  “I deserved it.” I ran my eyes over the lark, drinking in every detail. It felt like ages since I’d last seen it.

  “Yes, you did,” he agreed. “That infernal racket you were making with the bracelets…” He shuddered. “I can still hear that awful clanking echoing in my ears.”

  I muttered an apology, only half-listening to his complaints. The lark occupied all of my attention. The small brown bird with its beady black eyes was like an old friend I’d just been reunited with after years apart. I ran my fingers over it, as I’d done countless times before, feeling the familiar grooves on its striped brown wings. My fingers slid over its plump belly and I frowned when my skin got caught. I turned it over, exclaiming, “You broke it!”

  “That’s impossible; it’s been sitting in my drawer since you forced me to take it from you.”

  “Then why is there a chip right here?” I peered closer, and my stomach flipped. Not a chip, but a latch of some sort. The corner had lifted slightly, causing my skin to catch on it. I pried a fingernail underneath it and the door popped open.