The Fading Dusk

by Melissa Giorgio

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, disappearing into the other room. The door was open, giving me a view of his bed. I heard him rummaging around before he came back with a pile of clothes. He handed them—a crisp white shirt and a pair of dark pants—to me and I raised my brows. I hadn’t expected to be brought to his room and given… clothes.

  “Your shirt is ripped,” he said, not looking at me. I looked down and noticed he was right; there was a tear at the sleeve, exposing the milky-white of my shoulder. When had that even happened?

  The struggle, the shove, my face grazing the brick wall—

  I swallowed against a strong wave of nausea.

  Why, Aden, why?

  The captain went back into his room and returned with a bowl filled with water, a white cloth, and a small, circular jar. He set the bowl down on the desk and dipped the cloth in it, squeezing out the excess water. Leaning against the desk, he raised the cloth to my face, then paused.

  “May I?”

  I shut my eyes briefly and nodded. I was more than capable of cleaning my own face, but something told me he’d fight with me over that as well. Better to let him do what he wanted; the sooner he cleaned me up, the sooner he’d take me back to my cell and leave me alone, right?

  My heart skipped a beat. But I didn’t want to be alone.

  Very gently, he pressed the cloth against my cheek. I jerked back, hissing as the water mixed with the cut on my face. “Sorry,” he murmured, stilling his hand.

  “It’s fine.”

  He resumed cleaning my face with slow, precise movements. I could feel his eyes searching my face; I stared at my lap, my hands resting there, curled into tight fists. “You’re trembling,” he said, sounding a little surprised. I looked up, immediately regretting it. We locked gazes, his so intense and strong that it was impossible to look away. “You don’t have to be scared of me, Lark. I lost my temper, but the only one I’m angry with is Aden.” He frowned, pressing his lips together. Reaching over, he unscrewed the top of the jar and dipped two fingers in. As he spread the ointment, which smelled of herbs, on my cheek, he continued talking. “As you’ve probably suspected, I like order. When everything is in its proper place, everything works properly. For this order to be sustained, I ask that my soldiers follow a few simple rules.” My skin tingled under his gentle touch. I wasn’t sure if the feeling came from the ointment itself, or the tips of his fingers, rough and calloused, against my skin. It was an altogether pleasant experience, now that the sting from the cut had dissipated.

  The captain let his hand drop, but he remained where he was, his body very close to mine as he continued to stare at me with his dark gaze. “My main rule is to treat the prisoners with respect. What Aden did tonight is forbidden and completely unforgivable. You’ll never see him again.”

  While that was a relief, I still felt a stab of fear deep in my stomach. Not for me, but for Aden. “You’re not…” My voice came out rough. I cleared my throat and tried again. “You’re not going to kill him, are you?”

  He shook his head. “As much as I’d like to, no.”

  “Good.”

  He looked surprised. “Good?”

  I nodded. “I don’t want anyone to die… because of me.”

  “Lark, if you for one second think this is your fault—”

  “Isn’t it?” I cried. I wanted to grip the front of his shirt and shake him, but I kept my hands tucked in my lap. “Didn’t I do something or say something—”

  “Absolutely not.” He straightened suddenly, startling me. He noticed and frowned, leaning back against the desk again, trying to appear relaxed. “Lark, listen to me. Aden is the only one to blame. He thought he could take something from you, something he wasn’t meant to have. He didn’t ask, and he didn’t listen when you told him to stop. You were clear in your refusal, or else Coreen never would have called for help.”

  “But I just…” I rubbed at my eyes, hating that they were prickling with tears. “I let him— I was afraid he would hate me if I didn’t let him…” My words stumbled and halted; I couldn’t gather my thoughts, couldn’t tell him what I meant. When I looked up, I was surprised to see the captain’s gaze was sympathetic and kind—far different from the scowl he usually wore. “I just—I don’t know, I thought I’d finally found someone good in this world. Someone kind. Someone… I could trust. Besides Bantheir, I mean…” My voice trailed off, my cheeks hot. “You probably think I’m a fool.”

  The captain pushed away from the desk and began cleaning up. With his back to me, he said, “It’s late. You should try and get some rest.”

  I was hit with a stab of fear. The thought of going back to the cramped cage, waiting for someone else to come in and attack me—

  No wonder I was shaking.

  I looked at the door, suddenly exhausted. The cell wasn’t that far away, but the walk back to it seemed impossible at the moment, as if my bones suddenly weighed one hundred pounds apiece.

  “Not your cell,” he said, reading my mind. He pointed to his bedroom.

  I stood so suddenly my chair tipped over. Hugging the clean clothes to my chest, I stammered, “W-What?”

  For the first time all night, a corner of the captain’s lip twitched. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ll be staying in this room.” When that didn’t earn him a smile, he quickly added, “There’s a lock on the door; I don’t mind if you use it. In fact, if that’s what it’ll take to get you to fall asleep, then by all means, go ahead.”

  “What if I lock it and refuse to come out?”

  Captain Leonid raised an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that. You’ll be out of there the moment you’re hungry.”

  I glared at him. What was he saying, that I was a glutton? Shaking my head, I pushed past him but paused in the doorway. I knew I should say something, but what, exactly? Thanks for saving me even though I told you I hated you? Twice? Obviously the insults I’d hurled his way meant little to him. I knew I should be grateful, but instead I felt so childish compared to him.

  So grow up, Irina! I could feel his eyes on me as I stood there, hesitating, one hand on the doorframe. Without turning around, I quietly said, “Thank you for tonight… Captain.”

  “You can call me Leonid, you know.”

  I spun around, shocked. He’d always been “Captain Leonid” or simply “the captain” to me. To change that seemed—

  Actually, it seemed kind of right.

  “Thanks, Leonid,” I said shyly. I waited for him to refer to me by my name. My real one, I meant.

  “You’re welcome, Lark.” My shoulders slumped in disappointment. Leonid noticed and smirked. “Let’s not get carried away, now.”

  “Jerk,” I muttered, fighting a smile. I turned away, this time fully intent on actually entering the bedroom, shutting the door, and going to sleep.

  But Leonid called my nickname again, stopping me. “I don’t think you’re a fool, you know. Looking for someone to trust? Until I found Vernen, I spent my life searching for the exact same thing.” His voice dipped low and I strained to catch each word. “You mustn’t give up hope. They’re out there…”

  My grip on the doorframe tightened. “I hope… I hope I find that person,” I said bravely.

  His answer was so soft, I swore I imagined it. “Me too.”

  DESPITE BEING IN THE MIDDLE of a prison, Leonid’s bedroom was surprisingly cozy. Besides the perfectly made up bed, there was a three-drawer chest and a small nightstand, which held a pile of worn books resting next to a gas lamp. I pictured Leonid in bed reading and smiled to myself. In the corner was another door leading to a tiny washroom, but what caught my attention was the large window adjacent to the bed. Parting the curtains, I had my first glimpse of Dusk since I’d been arrested.

  The moon, a glowing white orb, hung low in the sky. I rested my elbows on the windowsill and leaned forward, pressing my nose to the glass. The window, unfortunately, didn’t open. It was teasing me with the view, but at that point I was so desperate for Dus
k I’d take just looking at the street full of empty buildings. I didn’t imagine too many people wanted to live or shop next to a place full of criminals, but despite the rundown conditions of the street, it was still Dusk, still home.

  Eventually, my eyes began to droop and I retired to bed. I changed into the clothes the captain had given me, rolling up the sleeves on both the pants and the shirt multiple times. As I folded the clothes Elyse had given me, I remembered the so-called protection amulet. Pulling it out, I placed it on the nightstand, eyeing it scornfully. It hadn’t protected me when I needed it the most. I knew it was just a stupid rock!

  As I curled up in bed, I belatedly wondered where the captain—where Leonid would be sleeping. He hadn’t even taken pillows or blankets for himself—was he planning on sleeping in his chair? I felt an unexpected stab of guilt. I hadn’t meant to steal his bed from him.

  Well, what’s the other choice? Invite him in here with you? My cheeks reddened and I dove under the covers, pulling the blanket over my head as if I expected Leonid to see my embarrassment through the walls.

  Actually, I could see he still had his lamp lit, and occasionally I heard noises from the other room as he worked. I wondered if he planned on staying up the whole night. No wonder he slept at the prison, then. He didn’t seem like the type to leave anything alone, half-finished.

  Three quarters of an hour later his lamp extinguished, plunging the bedroom into darkness. For some reason the thought of him sleeping on the other side of the door made me nervous. I didn’t expect him to come racing in here, forcing himself on me like Aden had tried to do. An impossible task, as I had locked the door behind me. And yet, I was still nervous imagining him there, his breath slowing as he fell asleep. What would he dream about? Me?

  That thought embarrassed me further; chastising myself, I turned over so I was facing the window. My heart beat painfully against my ribs as I shut my eyes, forcing myself to breathe slowly, in and out. In and out…

  Sleep found me eventually…

  The sun was shining through the curtains when I awoke. For a moment, I thought I was in my bedroom, everything back to normal, but then memories of the previous night came crashing back. My hand went to my cheek; the cut had scabbed over, and it didn’t feel as big as I’d imagined.

  I glanced at the door. Did I really want to leave? I imagined once I did, I would be escorted back to my cell, where I would occupy my days once more with staring at the walls and feeling useless. I sighed. I didn’t want to go back to that. For a few hours, I’d pretended things were different, that I was free.

  But I wasn’t. A man assaulting me did nothing to change the fact that I was still stuck here until the councilor decided I could leave. Which, given my last meeting with him, was never.

  Chiding myself for being foolish, I unlocked the door and stepped into the adjacent room. Leonid was squatting in front of his desk, squinting into a small, chipped mirror as he slid a razor across one foamy cheek.

  “What are you doing?” I blurted out.

  He didn’t spare me a glance. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Clearly, you’re shaving, but why are you doing it like that? Are you trying to cut yourself?”

  “I’m not going to cut my—” He broke off, swearing as a thin trickle of blood flowed down his cheek.

  I covered my mouth with my hand, hiding my smile.

  “Normally, I shave in my washroom, but…”

  Instantly, I felt guilty again. I knew I shouldn’t, but I did. To cover up my mixed feelings, I gestured toward his bedroom. “Well, go ahead before you slice your nose off.”

  He finally looked at me, scowling. It looked pretty ridiculous with half of his face covered in shaving cream, and I couldn’t help myself—I laughed. Muttering under his breath, Leonid pushed past me and went into the other room.

  “Help yourself to the food on the desk,” he called. “I already ate. That’s all yours.”

  On the desk sat a plate piled high with hotcakes, a bowl of berries, and a pot of tea. I picked up a strawberry and took a bite, nearly swooning as my mouth was filled with juicy sweetness.

  Stomach growling, I sat down and tucked in. The hotcakes were light and buttery, the fruit juicy and sweet. Prison food was better than what I ate back at Bantheir’s—although of course I’d rather be at home, sharing a loaf of stale bread with him than in prison, wondering what would happen to me next.

  I put down my fork, missing Bantheir fiercely.

  “Food not to your liking?” he asked, emerging from his bedroom in a fresh new uniform. He’d foregone the coat and gloves, and the top two buttons on his dark-blue shirt were undone. He paused to check his reflection in the cracked mirror, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. For one irrational moment, I almost told him to stop—to leave his hair messy. But then I realized how ridiculous that sounded and answered his question instead.

  “It’s a lot of food.”

  He nodded and gestured toward the tray. “May I, then?” I pushed it toward him, leaving the teapot and my cup on the desk so I could keep drinking. Walking to the door, he opened it to reveal a soldier standing at attention. Of course, I thought. The presence of a guard shouldn’t have surprised me; I was still a suspect. But did Leonid really expect me to escape?

  Or was the guard there for my protection? Shivering, I grabbed my cup, hoping some of the heat would warm my icy fingers.

  After exchanging a few words with the guard, too soft for me to make out, Leonid shut the door and walked around the desk to sit in the chair across from me. Leaning forward, he laced his fingers together and studied me.

  “What?” I asked, squirming. I hated when he stared at me like that. Was he trying to read my mind or something?

  “I was wondering if you’d allow me to continue our previous conversation without you telling me you hated me.”

  My cheeks reddened. “Ah—that was—”

  “Understandable,” he said, startling me by saying the last thing I expected him to say. “Anyone in your position would react the same way. I only wish you would hear me out and give me a chance to explain.”

  I swallowed hard, my mouth tasting of strawberries. Did I dare? Then again, what did I have to lose? All he wanted to do was talk, right? What was the harm in that?

  “All right,” I said slowly, setting my cup down on the desk. “But what do you want from me, in exchange?” There had to be a catch.

  His eyes gleamed, telling me I’d been right, and I braced myself. “The things I am about to tell you cannot leave this room, Lark. If you don’t feel you can keep this secret for me, I will send you back to your cell and we will pretend this conversation never happened. I will still try to convince the councilor of your innocence, but you’ll never know why.” He lifted an eyebrow, as if he expected that tantalizing bit at the end would draw me in.

  It did.

  I slumped in my chair, throwing my head back to stare at the ceiling. Could I keep a secret? Well, that was a pretty dumb question. Who was I going to blab to, Coreen?

  Leonid had saved me—for the second time, I realized. I owed him, and I would probably never get the chance to repay him. If he wanted to tell me his secrets, I’d have to be a pretty horrible person to spill them, wouldn’t I?

  “One question,” I said. “Why do you feel you can trust me with this secret of yours?” I lowered my head so I could see his reaction as he answered.

  Surprisingly, he looked pleased. “Because I believe once you hear the truth, you’ll want to help.” He nodded. “And I also believe that it’s your help that I need to solve this case, Lark.”

  LEONID HOOKED ME AT THAT. “You can trust me,” I blurted out.

  He raised his eyebrows, deadly serious. “Swear it. Swear that what we are about to discuss will not leave this room. Swear that you won’t share what I tell you with anyone, save for Vernen and any other individual I deem trustworthy.”

  “Will you tell me who these trustwor
thy individuals are?”

  He smirked. “Yes, of course.”

  “And what you’re planning on saying,” I said with a wave of my hand, “will explain what Raynard meant by you using me to earn yourself a promotion?”

  Now Leonid scowled. “Raynard,” he spat. “He brought that up on purpose, to alienate us. He doesn’t want me defending you; he wants your head on a stake.”

  Alarmed, my hand flew to my throat. “You said he didn’t want to eat me!”

  He rolled his eyes in a very un-Leonid way. “Different type of stake, Lark.”

  “What?”

  Leonid coughed. “Never mind.” I blinked, realizing too late that he’d made another joke. He gestured toward me. “Do you swear it?”

  With a slightly trembling voice, I repeated what he’d said, swearing to everything he’d asked. His request felt extremely important, like it might be the most crucial decision I’d ever make. If I wasn’t nervous before, this was sure to seal the deal. When I finished, he nodded his approval. “Good then. Let’s get started.”

  He pushed his chair away from the desk and stood. When I started to rise, Leonid gestured for me to stay seated. He walked over to the map, staring at it with his back to me. I waited in silence, winding a limp curl around my finger as my heart thumped madly.

  Leonid turned around, hands clasped behind his back. He looked thoughtful, like he’d been going over what he wanted to tell me and had finally come to a conclusion. “First things first. Yes, I am in line for a promotion if I successfully arrest Bantheir.”

  My eyes widened. “I knew it—”

  “Lark.”

  I snapped my mouth shut.

  When he seemed to believe I wouldn’t interrupt him again, he continued. “I did not take this case for the promotion. In fact, when it comes time for that promotion, I will refuse it. I have no interest in leaving this prison and becoming a bodyguard for a blowhard like Raynard.”