I whispered a silent goodbye to Vernen as we made our escape.
We walked through the streets of Dusk as fast my wounded leg would allow, holding hands. Leonid’s left hand squeezed my right one tightly, but I clung to him just as hard. It was as if we feared coming apart for even a second—in that moment we could be separated, lost forever. When I slowed, Leonid slowed. And when he encouraged me to keep going, I sped up with a small burst of energy.
It was late afternoon and the sun was already beginning its descent in the cloudy sky. Around me everything appeared gray and washed-out, as if all the color had seeped out of my life when Vernen had died. Dusk was fading, and it was Bantheir’s fault. He’d taken everything that was precious to me—my friends, my city, my existence—and destroyed it.
I hated him for that.
“Where are… we going?” I panted as Leonid tugged me along. We were heading north, that much I knew. I wondered if Leonid had a destination in mind, or if he just wanted to put as much space between us and Bantheir as possible.
I feared it was pointless. I knew Bantheir would burn all of Dusk just to get me.
“I know a place—it’s not too far,” he answered. “Just a little more, Irina—” Leonid broke off with a soft swear, suddenly changing directions and nearly tripping me in the process. We went down a side street, an alleyway, and he pushed me against the wall, covering my body with his. He let go of my hand; my fingers were cramped and I shook them out to get the blood flowing again.
“What—”
“Shh,” he cautioned, raising a finger to his lips as his other hand went to the knife hanging from his belt. “Someone’s following us.”
My heart skipped a beat. Was it Bantheir? Had he found us already? “What? Who is it?”
Leonid scowled. “What part of ‘shh’ don’t you understand?” Holding up the knife, he crept toward the end of the alleyway we had just come from. Two figures appeared, and Leonid let out a shout as he charged toward them.
One of figures, a girl, cried in surprise as her companion, a male, shouted, “Leonid, wait!”
It was hard to describe, but it was as if each word, each letter the man spoke had weight to it. They weren’t just words, they were commands. Leonid froze, as did I, his knife raised high in the air, about to strike the two figures.
A moment of silence passed, and then I felt a strange tingling on my skin, as if my joints were just waking up after going unused for hours on end. I shook my head to clear it as Leonid dropped his hand to his side. “Sir,” he said, bowing his head. “Apologizes, I thought—”
“Of course you did.” The two figures came closer and I gasped when I saw it was Elyse and… Parnaby? “But you’re safe, and that’s all that matters right now.”
“What’s going on?” I asked. The street magician and his assistant were the last two people I expected to see.
Leonid ignored me. “He attacked the slums—it was a distraction—he was at the prison when I arrived—”
Parnaby held up his hands and Leonid stopped speaking. “I know all of that,” he said to Leonid. “We need a safe house. I can put up a protection ward; it’ll last until sunrise. I know that doesn’t give us much time, but it’s our only choice right now.”
I stared at Parnaby. It was like he was speaking a foreign language. A ward? Don’t tell me—
Were all the street magicians in Dusk actual wielders of forbidden magic?
“I have a place,” Leonid said. “That’s where I was taking her.”
Parnaby nodded his approval, finally glancing at me. “She’s hurt.” I looked down to see the cloth Leonid had tied around my leg was stained with red. Elyse made a noise of concern and hurried over, but I waved her away.
“Leonid already wrapped it.” I shot her an annoyed look. “Unless… Are you going to tell me you can heal my leg using magic?”
Looking bemused, she said, “Sorry to disappoint, but I can’t use magic.”
“But Parnaby can.” I gazed openly at him. It was more than that. Leonid had called him “sir” and was standing at attention, as if Parnaby was his supervisor. Why?
Parnaby met my gaze, unperturbed. “We’ll talk in private, Irina.” His tone of voice left no room for argument and I gulped, feeling like I’d just been chastised. This is insane! I’d known Parnaby for years as a simple street magician! How had he hid so much power and authority from me?
Unsatisfied with his answer, I demanded, “Who are you?”
A clattering from the other end of the alleyway interrupted our conversation. Leonid pushed past us, unsheathing his sword. Parnaby went very still while Elyse took a protective step closer to me. I caught a flash of metal: a small dagger, clutched in her right hand.
A figure emerged and Leonid wasted no time grabbing him and throwing him against the wall. The man let out a cry of pain, shouting, “Wait, wait!” He lifted one arm in front of his face, his other hanging uselessly at his side.
I recognized that voice. “Leonid! Stop, that’s Aden!”
Leonid grunted. “I know.” He shook Aden again and the soldier cried out.
“Oh for goodness sake,” Elyse grumbled, stalking over to them. “Leonid, can’t you see he’s hurt?”
“Can’t you see that I don’t care?”
“Leonid!” I said, exasperated, limping over to them.
Leonid sheathed his sword but continued glaring at Aden. “Why are you alive? And what are you doing here? Were you following us?”
“Yes,” Aden said, his face pale and sweaty. He was coated in dust, his blond hair now as white as snow. “I was waiting to get my arm set—they said it’s broken—when the prison exploded. Part of the ceiling collapsed, and I had to climb out with my one good arm. By the time I got into the hallway, the attack was over.” He broke off, shutting his eyes. “So many dead…”
Without thinking, I reached for Leonid’s hand. His fingers folded around mine, squeezing gently.
“When I got outside, I saw you and Irina down the block, so I followed,” Aden said.
“Why?” Leonid asked suspiciously.
“Because…” Aden glanced at me, his green eyes shining brightly. “I want to help. I know what I did was inexcusable, and that you’ll probably never forgive me, but if I can somehow make amends…” He reached for me. “Irina, please.”
Leonid shoved his body between us. “Listen to me right now. You touch her, and I will kill you. And it won’t be a fast and painless death, either. By the end of it, you’ll be begging me to kill you.” Leonid gave Aden a ferocious sneer. “Do you understand me?”
Aden swallowed hard. “Perfectly.”
“Good.” Leonid smacked Aden’s broken arm and his eyes rolled back as he tried not to topple over. Elyse made a disgusted noise and steadied Aden, glaring at Leonid at the same time.
“Are we done here?” Parnaby asked. He was the only one who hadn’t moved when Aden had appeared, and he was currently regarding us with a look of indifference. “Unless we’re planning on waiting for someone else to show up? Bantheir, perhaps?” He looked around. “Actually, where’s Vernen?”
My stomach clenched painfully as I looked at Leonid. Mask in place, in a voice devoid of anything, he simply said, “He’s dead.”
A flicker of emotion passed across Parnaby’s face. “I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good man.”
We fell silent, mourning the loss of Vernen. Then Leonid tugged me forward, and we resumed the trek to his safe house.
WE CROSSED OVER INTO RISE. As scared and heartsick as I was, I couldn’t stop myself from gaping at the large, fancy buildings that lined the streets. Anyone who passed us was dressed in finer clothes made from silk, the ladies wearing long, colorful gowns and covering their shoulders with coats made from animal fur. It was amazing, the differences between Rise and Way, as if we had crossed an invisible line and transported ourselves to another world.
But it was also sickening that people indulged in useless things while mere miles away, o
thers starved in the streets. I came from the slums; it would always be a part of who I was. I was nothing but an outsider in Rise, and it made me highly uncomfortable.
Leonid led us to one of the biggest homes on a quiet, tree-lined street, walking straight up to the front door and opening it. I stumbled to a stop, my mouth falling open. “What are you doing?” I demanded. “You can’t just break in!”
He glanced at me over my shoulder. “Then it’s a good thing I live here.”
“What?” I glanced at the others, but only Aden seemed surprised by the news. Leonid led us into a grand foyer filled with expensive-looking pottery, paintings, and assorted knickknacks. “Leonid, this is your home?”
“It belongs to my parents, actually,” he said. “They’re away, so we won’t be bothered.”
I stared at him. Why was he acting like this wasn’t an earth-shattering bit of news? “But—”
“There are more important things to do than stand around talking,” Parnaby interrupted, face grim. “I need to set the spell up.”
“Go ahead,” Leonid told him, “just don’t break anything.”
Parnaby replied with a snort before walking away, muttering under his breath.
A butler appeared, clearly confused. Leonid spoke with him quietly, dismissing the man. Looking highly unhappy, the butler left us. I wanted to press Leonid for more details, but the room began spinning, and I swayed on my feet. Elyse sidled up next to me, grabbing me by the elbow. “Leonid, she’s exhausted. Do you have a place where she can rest?”
“I’m fine—” I started to say.
“And I need to stitch up her wound before she bleeds to death,” Elyse continued, speaking slowly and carefully to Leonid, who was staring into the distance, his face troubled. “Leonid!”
With a start, his gaze snapped back to us, and he puffed up his cheeks before blowing out a slow breath. “Yes, of course. I’ll show you to a sitting room; I have a satchel full of medical supplies in my room that you can use.” Leonid rolled his dark eyes at Aden, looking more like himself as he said, “I imagine I’ll have to set and bind your stupid arm since you’re incapable of doing so yourself.”
Aden whimpered, looking desperately at Elyse. She shrugged. “I can’t set an arm. Sorry, honey.”
Leonid left us off in a sitting room, asking us to try to not get blood on anything because it would be a real hassle for the help to clean. I hovered in the doorway until Elyse snapped that it was ridiculous and shucked off her coat, throwing it on the couch and making me sit on top of it. She was in the middle of unwinding the cloth when Leonid returned with his satchel of supplies slung over one shoulder, a bowl of water clutched between his hands.
“Everything you need should be in here,” he said. “You can wash up in the room across the hall. If you want alcohol…” He pointed to a dark cabinet made of mahogany wood stocked with bottles and glasses before turning to leave.
“Leonid?” I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. After everything that happened, I was afraid to let him out of my sight. If I blinked, he might disappear.
“I’ll be down the hallway.” As if reading my mind, he said, “I’m not going anywhere, Irina. Promise.” He left without another word.
I sighed heavily. Leonid’s words might have been light, but I knew he was hurting. I wished he’d stayed and let me comfort him.
“Take off your pants,” Elyse said suddenly.
“What?!” My face flamed. Maybe it was better Leonid hadn’t stayed.
“Your pants. Take them off.” She glared. “This is no time to be modest, Irina.”
“But, I—”
“Irina, pants off now!” There was a manic gleam in her eye that told me I’d better cooperate.
I complied, blushing horribly. Elyse got straight to work, dipping the cloth into the water and wiping away the blood that coated my leg.
“This looks painful,” she commented. “I’m going to clean it up, which is going to sting, and then stitch it together. It’s going to be tender, but you’ll still be able to walk.”
I nodded, trying to relax as I settled into the couch, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. I heard Elyse going through Leonid’s satchel, and then there was a sharp pain in the wound as she began cleaning it. I hissed but kept my eyes closed.
To distract myself, I asked, “Did you know Leonid was rich?”
“Sure. Didn’t you?”
“I…” I trailed off. My first impression had been of a young aristocrat, but what was he doing working—and living—in a prison when he had all of this? I opened my eyes to survey the room. A large fireplace lined the wall directly across from us, and on top of the mantle sat an array of crystal vases. A large painting depicting well-dressed couples at a ball hung from the wall, and a fur rug covered the floor.
None of it fit Leonid at all. Maybe that’s why he left.
“And what about Parnaby?” I asked, changing the subject.
“What about him?” She threaded a needle, avoiding my gaze.
“He’s not just a street magician, is he?”
From down the hallway, we heard Aden howl in pain. I winced, and Elyse grabbed my leg to steady me as she began sewing my skin back together. The needle pricked each time she shoved it through my skin. I watched for a few seconds before diverting my gaze, feeling nauseous. Leonid’s parents would probably have a fit if I threw up on their expensive furniture. I dug my fingernails into the plush sofa, breathing rapidly through my mouth as I fought through the haze of pain.
I needed a distraction. When Elyse didn’t answer my question, I called her name again.
Ignoring me, she finished sewing the wound together, cutting the extra thread with a pair of scissors. Reaching into the satchel once more, she pulled out a roll of bandage, which she began winding around my leg. “You can’t let this get wet, so be careful when you wash up.”
“Elyse.”
She stilled. “Irina, let Parnaby answer your questions. All of your questions. I’m sure you have many.”
“Of course I do!” I exploded. “Parnaby is definitely not who he says he is, Leonid is some rich lord, and oh, by the way, Bantheir is a crazy murderer who needs me to help him become immortal!” With a gasp, I braced myself for the pain that always accompanied any sort of bad thought directed toward Bantheir, but nothing came. My fingers curled against my stomach. “How strange…”
“The spell has finally worn off, then?” a voice asked from the hallway.
I shrieked, grabbing a pillow to hide my bare legs from Parnaby, who regarded me with a look of indifference.
“Please,” he said. “It’s not like I haven’t seen that before.” His gaze traveled to Elyse who, much to my surprise, blushed. Avoiding my questioning look, she busied herself with cleaning up the medical supplies.
I reached for my discarded pants and draped the bloody and torn material over my legs, glaring at Parnaby all the while. Did he really need to come in here now? As if sensing my discomfort—and clearly not caring—he came over and sat down on the couch directly across from me. Elyse, having finished cleaning up, plopped down next to him. Even though their bodies weren’t touching, there was still an intimate closeness to them that was impossible to ignore. There had been rumors about the street magician and his assistant, but I’d always dismissed them as false. Elyse was my age, after all!
But clearly, I was blind when it came to things.
Many things.
“You have some questions,” Parnaby said as he settled back into the couch. I raised my brows at his flippant tone, as if we were discussing the weather or the latest magic trick he’d come up with. Curling my hands into fists, I remained silent. I didn’t want to sit down and chat with the street magician. I wanted to find Leonid and curl up in his arms as I cried myself to sleep.
But Parnaby wasn’t about to be deterred. “Leonid told me you realized Bantheir has been spelling you all this time. It was a manipulation spell, and an incredibly powerful one at that. No
t only did it trigger pain as a reaction to any… unsavory thoughts you may have had about your master, but it was also supposed to make you obedient.” His brown eyes gleamed. “But you found a way to break it, by stabbing yourself. Very clever…”
I shivered, wishing I had a blanket to cover myself with. I didn’t like the way Parnaby was staring at me, like I was some sort of experiment who’d exceeded all of his expectations. “You knew, then,” I accused. “You knew about the spell on me, and like Leonid, you knew Bantheir needed me as the final piece for his immortality spell.” I pointed a finger at him. “Who are you, Parnaby? You’re obviously not a simple street magician like you’ve been pretending to be all this time.” Or my friend. I waved that thought away, refusing to admit how much it hurt me.
His gaze narrowed and I swore the temperature in the room dropped. Next to him, Elyse squirmed but remained staring at her hands. “Irina, what I am about to reveal cannot leave this room,” Parnaby said, his voice oozing the same sort of power I’d felt back in the alleyway. He was pulling me in, doing something similar to what Bantheir had done, and it made me furious.
“Stop it,” I snapped. “Stop trying to use magic on me! If you want to know if you can trust me, you can! Haven’t I proven myself yet?”
I thought my tone of voice would anger him, but instead he seemed satisfied. “Good.” Now he stood, crossing over to the fireplace and clasping his arms behind his back. “You said you want to know who I am.” He tilted his head toward me. “I am the president of Dusk.”
OUT OF EVERYTHING PARNABY COULD have said, I think I was the least prepared for that. Blinking a few times, I stammered, “W-What?” I looked to Elyse, wondering if maybe Parnaby had lost his mind, but she nodded slightly.
“It’s true, Irina,” she said, speaking up for the first time since Parnaby had joined us. “He’s the president; he watches over Dusk and decides, well… everything.”
The Fading Dusk Page 18