The Burning Chaos (Smoke and Mirrors Book 2)

by Melissa Giorgio

  “Dark root needs to be injected into the bloodstream,” he said. “It comes from the dark leaf plant, which doesn’t even grow in Dusk. But that doesn’t stop people from stocking it—illegally—in their shops. It’s strictly black market stuff, and it’s pricey.”

  “So whoever bought it has money.” That didn’t narrow down the list of suspects at all, unfortunately.

  “Right. But it’s not nearly as expensive as the burning chaos.” At my blank look, West quickly clarified, “That’s the poison that killed the family. When consumed, it causes an intense burning in your throat…” He cut himself off and shook his head. “You saw it for yourself. The look of agony on their faces…”

  “Chaos,” I whispered. An appropriate name. “If this poison is so expensive, there can’t be too many buyers. Can’t we track them down?”

  “That’s what we’re trying, but no shop owner will admit to a soldier that they’re selling burning chaos,” West said. “We’ve sent men in undercover, but so far, no one is talking.”

  I thought about the man who had attacked me, and how his tongue had been cut out. What if the person who sold the burning chaos had met the same fate? Or worse?

  “We’re obviously getting closer. Someone was nervous today. To attack a little girl like that?” West asked disgustedly. “I hope we find whoever did this, and the captain destroys them.”

  “He will. Leonid won’t rest until he finds them.” For the rest of the walk home, I filled West in on what Leonid had discovered about the intruder. As we reached the steps to my house, I paused. “Also, West… Something happened with Vernen. I don’t know what we’re going to find when we open that door, but…” A thought occurred to me. “Do you even know what happened to Vernen?”

  “You mean dying and coming back?” West’s voice had lowered. “The captain told me. I didn’t believe him, but then I saw Vernen and I knew he was right. This Vernen? He’s different.”

  “Leonid has always been so adamant that Vernen would get better, but after today, he’s changed his mind.” The grief in Leonid’s eyes would haunt me for the rest of my days. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, West, but we need to support Vernen. He was doing better these past few weeks, and I refuse to go back to treating him like he’s a fragile piece of pottery. He needs to go outside. He needs to help us with cases. We can’t keep him locked up for the rest of his life. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to Vernen, and it’s not fair to Leonid.”

  West’s face was troubled. “I agree. He has been better lately. But something clearly happened today that caused him to relapse. We need to figure out what that was, so we can prevent it from happening again.”

  I felt a strong sense of gratitude toward this man I’d only known for a few weeks. Together, I was certain we’d be able to give Vernen the support he needed.

  Nodding my thanks, I unlocked the door and stepped inside. It was dark, and I fumbled for the oil lamp we kept on a small table by the door. I lit the lamp, calling for Vernen.

  “Irina, look.” West let out a hiss between his teeth.

  I held the lamp up, illuminating Vernen’s slumped form sprawled out on the stairs to the second floor. Nearly dropping the lamp, I raced forward, thinking, Not again. Not again!

  “Vernen!”

  VERNEN’S EYES WERE OPEN, AND he squinted against the sudden brightness of the flame. Shadows danced across his face, giving him a haunted look. He sat hunched over, still in his coat, and his hand was ice-cold when I placed mine on top of it.

  “Vernen,” I said again, my heart racing. “What are you doing? Why are you sitting in the dark like this?” For a moment, it had seemed like Vernen was… I shook the dark thoughts from my head and squeezed his hand as tightly as I could.

  Behind me, West shut and locked the front door before coming over to us. He leaned against the railing. “How are you feeling, Vernen?”

  A confused looked flitted across Vernen’s face. I wondered if we were overwhelming him with too many questions. Should we just leave him be? No. I couldn’t just ignore him, not when he looked so miserable.

  “You…” Vernen was staring at me intently. “You were hurt today. Because of me. Leon was so mad. Irina, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” To my horror, tears sprung to his eyes as he repeated his apology over and over.

  “Vernen, no, it’s all right.” After placing the lamp on the floor, I crouched in front of him, taking both of his hands in mine. “It was only a scratch. Nothing more. I’ll be fine. And, better yet, Leonid’s sister is going to be fine, too! West was able to make an antidote for her. Leonid’s with her right now, but we’ll see him tomorrow at Parnaby’s.”

  Vernen shook his head. “Leon doesn’t want me to be a soldier anymore.”

  I exchanged a concerned look with West. I could only imagine what Leonid had said to Vernen earlier when he’d been scared out of his mind for both his sister and me. Nothing that he meant, of course. But it was rare for Leonid to lose his temper and lash out at his loved ones. That explained why Vernen had been sitting in the dark for who knew how long. “He didn’t mean any of that.”

  “He did.”

  “Come on, Vernen,” West scoffed. “Since when can the captain get by without you? He knows he needs you. Whatever he said today? None of it was true.” West leaned over and slapped Vernen on the shoulder. “He’ll apologize tomorrow, and everything will be all right again. You’ll see.”

  “No, it won’t.” Vernen’s voice was so monotone, so unlike him, that I actually flinched. He sounded like he had in the beginning, after Jaegger had revived him. It was almost as if a different person was occupying his body. What had happened to all of that progress he’d made? Why was he slipping? “Leon doesn’t trust me, and he’s right. There’s something wrong with me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” I snapped. Both men regarded me in surprise. “There’s not, and anyone who thinks otherwise will have to face me, all right?” I curled my hand into a fist and showed it to Vernen. “I’ll punch them for you, Vernen.”

  “Even Leon?” he asked, his lips tilting upward slightly.

  “Even Leonid,” I promised, relieved. “Now, are you hungry? Why don’t we go into the kitchen and have something to eat and drink? It’s been a long day, and all I want is a hot cup of tea.”

  I started to rise, but Vernen’s arm snaked out, catching me gently around the wrist. “Irina, I…” His eyes darted to West, and whatever he was about to say died on his lips.

  “How about I go make that tea?” West excused himself, but it wasn’t until we heard the sound of pots rattling from the kitchen that Vernen relaxed slightly and let go of my wrist.

  I sat down on the step next to him. “What is it, Vernen? Are you still upset about what happened in the maze?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Do you…” I paused, wondering if what I was about to say would upset him further. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He looked down at his lap, at his hands that were slightly shaking. “I don’t know what happened. One moment, I was there, with you, and then…” One of his hands reached up to trace the scar across his throat. “Sometimes, I remember, Irina.”

  My brows rose at that. His memories came back? No wonder he’d been so upset.

  Right then, I deeply ached for Leonid. He should be the one sitting here, next to Vernen. He would know the right thing to say. I prayed I wouldn’t muddle things up even worse.

  “What do you remember?” I asked.

  “Just bits and pieces. Flashes. The explosion in the slums. The prison. Feeling scared as I fought for my life.” Vernen was still looking at his lap, so he didn’t notice the flame on the lamp growing unnaturally. I watched it, mesmerized, as it sputtered, the orange and yellow flame dancing like a writhing body. “Then, nothing.”

  “Nothing,” I repeated dully. Was this my fault? These horrific memories of Vernen’s—would they haunt him for the rest of his life? Or would they drive him mad first?
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  “The memories come back, but then I forget about them,” he continued. “Or I want to forget about them. I don’t know. I don’t understand them. They’re like dreams, gone when I wake. I just know that they’re something important, and that I should remember them. But I can’t.” Vernen paused, staring into the distance. “But today I saw, and I remember.”

  He remembered. My heart began racing again. “What do you remember?”

  Vernen rubbed his throat again. “Dying.” The flame in the lamp hissed and crackled, but still Vernen didn’t notice it. “And then I remember coming back. In exchange for him. The magician. The one who killed me.” He spat the words like they were poison. There was a dark look on Vernen’s face and in his eyes, one that made my skin prickle as I realized who he reminded me of.

  Bantheir, in those final moments, when he declared my life was nothing compared to his.

  With a start I realized the flame had grown even more, the sizzling blaze now taller than the oil lamp’s globe. The fire reached greedily for the wooden banister, and without thinking, my foot shot out, knocking the lamp over. Jumping to my feet with a startled yell, I stomped on the flames, plunging the foyer into darkness once more.

  I could hear Vernen’s heavy breathing in the dark. When he called my name, it was a soft whisper. “Sorry,” I said, gripping the banister for support. My legs were trembling badly as the scent of smoke filled the air. “I’m so clumsy. Let me go light a candle…” I carefully made my way to the table by the door, striking a match and filling the foyer with a soft light once more. When I turned around, Vernen was staring at me, his eyes hooded in shadows.

  “I did that,” he said hoarsely.

  My eyes widened in fear. He had realized what he was doing. “No—”

  “Don’t lie, Irina.” There was such anger in his voice, but it faded away as he said, “Please.”

  Keeping the candle on the table, I made my way back to Vernen. Exhaling deeply, I ran both of my hands through my curls. “You were controlling the flame?”

  He nodded.

  “Have you done that before?”

  He nodded again.

  “Vernen, you can’t,” I gasped. Crouching in front of him once more, I put my hands on his shoulders. “Do you hear me? You can’t do that ever again.”

  “I don’t mean to. It just happens.” His eyes filled with tears. “What’s wrong with me, Irina?”

  My heart broke at the sight of him sitting there, looking so wretched. “I told you, nothing’s wrong with you. But your life… Your life was traded for Bantheir’s. It looks like you got some of his magic as well.”

  Vernen recoiled. “I don’t want it!”

  “I know, but you might not have a choice.” I could feel him shaking under my fingers. “I’m so sorry, Vernen. This is my fault. I was so caught up in the moment that I forgot Jaegger was listening. When I wished for your life in exchange for Bantheir’s, I didn’t think—” I choked on a sob. “You must hate me for what I did.”

  “I don’t.” His fingers reached up to encircle mine. “You didn’t know. This isn’t your fault. But sometimes, Irina? Sometimes I wish I’d stayed dead.”

  His words were like daggers, and this time I couldn’t stop the sob from escaping.

  “My life isn’t natural. I keep… fading in and out. Sometimes I’m here, and sometimes I blink and I don’t know how I got to the table and how the sandwich I’m eating got into my mouth. I want things to be the same, but they’re never going to be, are they?” Vernen’s voice cracked. “The old me would have protected you today, Irina, but the new me stood to the side while you were attacked. I can’t control my actions, and eventually I’m going to hurt someone. That’s why you want me to hide the magic, isn’t it?”

  “No,” I breathed. “It’s because Parnaby will kill you if he finds out you can use magic.”

  Vernen stared at me for a heartbeat before he ripped his hands from mine and stood abruptly. Without a word he turned and charged up the stairs. I called after him, but he didn’t stop. His bedroom door slammed shut, the sound echoing throughout the foyer.

  West found me bent over, struggling to clean up the broken shards of the lamp as tears trailed down my cheeks. When I cut myself on a piece of glass, he yanked me away, shouting, “Irina!” Belatedly, I realized he’d been calling my name for a while. “What in the blazes is going on?” West demanded.

  I shook my head, unable to answer him.

  West swore up a storm. “Irina, I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what happened—”

  “I can’t,” I managed to say. “Please, West. I can’t.”

  His eyes were narrowed in worry. Studying me for a long moment, he slowly nodded. “Fine. But if Vernen is in trouble, then you need to tell someone. You might not trust me yet, but tell the captain. Don’t wait until it’s too late. Because if something happens to Vernen because you were too afraid to say anything, I’ll never forgive you.” He turned on his heel and left the foyer, leaving me in the half-dark with blood dripping from my finger and tears sliding down my cheeks.

  I allowed myself a few more minutes of self-pity before I joined West in the kitchen. He was staring out the back door, his body tense. I hesitated in the doorway. “Vernen’s really lucky to have someone like you as a friend,” I said.

  “Let me see your finger.” He guided me over to the candle resting on the kitchen table, prodding the skin before wiping it clean with a rag. “I’m sorry I spoke to you that way.”

  “No, don’t apologize. Everything you said was right. If I could tell you, West, I would. But this is so much bigger than any of us, and I’m so afraid of what will happen if I say anything.”

  West rummaged through his pack before producing a bandage, which he wrapped around my finger tightly. I watched silently, wondering how many times I would need to be patched up before the day was over. “If that’s the case, Irina,” he said when he was finished tending to my finger, “then you need to tell someone. No one should have to deal with something like that on their own.” His brown eyes met my own. “Promise me you’ll tell someone.”

  My mouth was dry, and I had to swallow before I could answer. “I promise.”

  And for what felt like the first time in weeks, I wasn’t lying. West was right. I couldn’t do this on my own. But what would happen when I told Leonid?

  What would happen when he realized I’d been lying to him all this time?

  LITTLE BIRD, WAKE UP.

  I came to with a start. Jae? He hadn’t spoken since the day we dispelled the manipulation magic Parnaby had cast on Leonid, and I’d started to wonder if he’d somehow left me. The shard was still there—I checked it daily—but maybe he’d grown tired of this life and gone back to wherever it was he’d been before Bantheir had used the Essence to summon him.

  No, I am still here. You can’t rid yourself of me that easily, little bird. Amusement colored his words. But you’re right about one thing. Being trapped like this—I am growing weaker.

  I sat up in bed, alarmed. What can we do? A strange blue light flickered from my window, distracting me.

  We will deal with that later, Jaegger said firmly. You’re being summoned.

  Sliding out of bed, I padded over to the window and peeked out between my old, fraying curtains. My room was located on the east side of the house, so my view was never anything impressive. I glanced at our neighbor’s house quickly; seeing that it was dark, my eyes traveled downward until I found the source of the blue light.

  Aurora, the giant, silent sister of Aeonia, stood between the two homes, a pulsating blue ball of light hovering in her left hand.

  I sucked in a breath. Magic?

  Yes, Jaegger said, but not her own.

  Aeonia, then. She’d sent her sister to fetch me.

  As if sensing me—or maybe the dragon—Aurora looked up, and our eyes met. She crooked a finger and turned, walking toward the front of the house. I let the curtain fall, my heart pounding loudly.


  Aeonia had grown impatient with me.

  I didn’t have the amplifier. I didn’t even have a clue where to begin looking for it. I thought I’d have more time to search for it, but it was obvious I was wrong.

  Afraid Aurora would start banging on the front door, waking West and Vernen and forcing me to answer questions I didn’t want to, I dressed silently. Skipping the hallway step that always creaked, I opened the front door as quietly as I could and stepped outside.

  Aurora waited for me on the street, her arms crossed over her chest. With Leonid’s warnings about traveling alone ringing in my ears, I locked the door and joined her, hoping I wasn’t walking into a trap.

  “Where’s your sister?” I asked, not expecting a reply. I was right; Aurora walked away, forcing me to follow her. Her strides were so long I practically had to jog to keep up with her. The night air had a bite to it, and I drew up the hood of my coat, wishing I were home and under my covers.

  I hoped she wasn’t leading me back to Aeonia’s shop. The longer I was away, the greater the chance my absence would be discovered. I was about to ask Aurora where she was taking me when she turned abruptly down an alleyway.

  Why hadn’t I brought a knife? How stupid was I? Leonid may not have been home, but he had a whole drawer of knives in his bedroom. It hadn’t even dawned on me to take one. And now here I was, following Aurora down a darkened alleyway, ready to face who-knows-what.

  “Don’t look so frightened.” Aeonia’s voice greeted me from the shadows. She snapped a finger, and light—regular yellow light—danced from her fingertips. “I’m not here to kill you, Irina.” She turned to Aurora. “Thank you for bringing her, sister.”

  Aurora nodded and took a step back, leaning against the wall, her posture relaxed.

  “Your sister wakes me up in the middle of the night and leads me through Dusk without saying a word and you don’t think I should be frightened?” I scoffed. I thought of the man in the maze. “Can she even speak?”

  “Of course she can,” Aeonia said. “She just chooses not to.” She took a step closer, and that’s when I realized she wasn’t alone.