Vernen sucked in a sharp breath. When Leonid didn’t say anything, he nudged him—hard—with his shoulder. Making a face, Leonid spread his hands wide and said, “Lark, look.” He paused and glanced at Vernen. I swore they were having a silent conversation with just their eyes and I felt an unexpected surge of jealousy. Would I ever be that close to someone to not even need words? “What Raynard said that night was completely untrue. I have never once thought of you as just some girl from the slums.” His eyes were troubled. “The most beautiful woman I have ever known came from the slums. So don’t you dare think beauty can’t be found in any place, regardless of its surroundings.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Now come on. We have a job to do.” Leonid walked out of the room, leaving me alone with Vernen.
I felt my cheeks flush again. Not wanting Vernen to see, I turned around and shoved the black wig over my head, making sure all of my curls were safely tucked inside. It was long, hanging down to the middle of my back, with uneven bangs strewn across my forehead. I was relieved there wasn’t a mirror in the room; I was certain I looked hideous.
“Well, that was strange,” Vernen commented.
Turning back around, I swallowed hard. “What just happened?”
He looked as surprised as I felt. “I’m not sure. Maybe he ended up having a drink after all?”
“And this beautiful woman?” I made a vague gesture with my hands. “Do you know who she is?” I tried not to feel jealous—it made no sense to feel jealous—but I felt it anyway, deep in my heart, a squirming, dark sensation I didn’t much like. Followed by a single stupid thought: Would Leonid ever refer to me as beautiful?
Why did I want him to refer to me as beautiful?
Vernen shook his head. “That’s not for me to tell. If Leon wants you to know, he will.”
Struggling not to feel hurt, I followed him out of the room. Leonid waited at the entrance, gesturing impatiently for us to hurry. Despite his urgings, my footsteps slowed, coming to a halt at the threshold. I’d been imprisoned for nearly two weeks. One more step, and I would be outside.
I would be free.
Vernen noticed my hesitation. “What’s wrong?”
“What happens when I step outside?” I asked quietly, pointing to Dusk. It was an overcast, chilly day, but I barely paid that any heed. All I saw was freedom.
“What do you mean, ‘what happens’?” Leonid looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “We’re going to the church, remember?”
“After that, I mean!”
He shrugged. “I guess that depends on what we find out. We’ll play it by ear.”
Vernen put a hand on my shoulder and gently guided me forward. “Come on, Irina, you haven’t been outside in so long. Don’t you miss it?”
I took one step outside, then another, breathing deeply. “More than I ever thought possible.” I slowly turned in a circle, taking in the rundown buildings and the quiet street. Filling my lungs with fresh air, I wished we could run to the church, flying down the streets as our legs carried us through Dusk. It would be exhilarating, but it would also attract exactly the kind of attention Leonid wanted to avoid.
So I ducked my head, the long strands of my black wig blocking my face, and dutifully followed the other two to our destination.
WE HEADED SOUTH, TOWARD THE river. As we walked, we began seeing more people, more homes, and more businesses open. It felt good to be amongst the denizens of Dusk—regular, hardworking people whose main concerns were money, food, and shelter. Did they know a serial murderer stalked Dusk? Did they care? I watched a mother chase after her young son, scolding him when she finally caught up. Then she scooped him into her arms, tickling his stomach, and all was well again. I was certain if she knew what I did, she would lock the doors of her home and never venture outside again.
Neither Leonid nor Vernen spoke, and I followed their example, my head down as I tried to keep up. Leonid’s long strides carried him through the crowds at a rapid pace, and all too soon I was practically jogging after him. It made me feel slightly better that Vernen was having a hard time as well. We exchanged a rueful glance, and he shrugged, as if to say, “What can you do?” Leonid was a man on a mission, and nothing was stopping him.
He took us down a winding street lined with tall buildings. Most were single family homes that had been converted into smaller apartments, while others were shops, selling everything from new pairs of shoes to loaves of bread longer than my arms. The scent of baking bread followed us down the street, making my mouth water.
At the end of the block we turned left, leaving the smells and noise behind us. The buildings were shorter, closer together, and older. Most were in dire need of a fresh coat of paint, and I saw quite a few broken window panes. Our footsteps echoed along the deserted road, and I inched closer to Vernen. Leonid, still ahead, was oblivious to my discomfort.
When we rounded another corner, the church came into view. It sat across the street, wedged between an abandoned building on its last legs and a butcher’s shop, where an old, faded sign that read “closed” hung from the window.
We stood in an alleyway, studying the church. It was the tallest and largest building on the street, taking up nearly half the block. A large, round stained glass window hung over the doors; there was some sort of design in the glass, but with the glare from the sun, I couldn’t tell what it was. A black cat darted past the church, but other than that, we saw no signs of movement, not even the drunks and beggars Leonid had mentioned earlier. Maybe they waited until nightfall to make their appearance?
“Are you sure this is the right place?” I asked skeptically. “It looks abandoned.”
“No, it’s fully functioning,” Leonid said. “When we watched it yesterday, we saw some people—all men—enter.”
“All men?” I repeated. “Why are you sending me in there if it’s men only?”
“I didn’t say it was men only—”
“But it probably is, isn’t it?” I crossed my arms over my chest to hide the shaking. Earlier, I’d told Leonid I wasn’t scared, but now that we were here, the dark church looming before me like a menacing demon, I was.
The men in my home had been fully prepared to kill me in order to get what they wanted. What would their comrades do when I suddenly showed up in their church?
I could barely hear Leonid’s response over the thumping of my heart. Turning away, I walked down the alleyway, dragging my hand along the jagged bricks for support. I was having trouble breathing again, and I wondered if I was about to faint. All I needed was for my stomach to start cramping again, and today would turn into the best day of my life!
“Lark, what’s the matter? You’re going the wrong way!”
I shook my head, unable to answer. It was hard enough getting air into my lungs, let alone having an actual conversation. Squatting, I covered my head in my hands, wishing the ground would stop spinning.
“Lark!” Leonid crouched down as well, putting his hands on my shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s panicking, can’t you see?” Vernen asked, coming over and practically shoving Leonid away from me. “And you’re not helping!”
They started arguing, but I tuned it out, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Just take deep breaths, Irina,” Vernen instructed, his voice very close to my ear. Nodding, I did as he said, keeping my eyes closed. “That’s it. In and out. It’s going to be fine.”
I lowered my body to the ground, so I was leaning on my knees. I continued to grip the wall with my right hand, and after a few moments, I was able to open my eyes. Both men were staring at me with concern.
“Do you want to go back?” Leonid asked in a neutral tone, as if the choice was up to me and me alone. But if I said yes, wouldn’t that ruin everything? His plans, his mission, his goals? What if we walked away, and another person died? Their blood would be on my hands, simply because I was a coward. “Lark, you can say yes,” he said softly, breaking into my thoughts.
I looked at hi
m, surprised. For some reason, I expected him to be angry. We had come all this way, after all, breaking who knew how many rules just to take me outside the prison. And now he was telling me we could go back without learning a thing?
It was a tempting thought. But—
I wrapped my arms around my waist and spoke quickly before my courage failed me. “No, you’re right. We need to do this. We need to find out what’s going on before anyone else dies. I just panicked, like Vernen said. I was thinking about the men in my house and how close they came to k-killing—”
“Shh,” Leonid said. He leaned forward and brushed a strand of black hair out of my eyes. I froze, the words I were about to speak suddenly forgotten. I was unused to this kinder, gentler Leonid. It was almost like he was two people—one who was strict and stern and kept everyone at a distance and another who genuinely cared about my well-being. Which was the real Leonid? “You’re safe. I swore no one would ever hurt you again, didn’t I? Do I look like the sort of man who goes back on his promise?”
I shook my head.
“Of course not, right?” He leaned back, looking pleased. “This is what’s going to happen—but you’re allowed to say no, remember that. You and Vernen are going to enter the church and ask questions. Find out who they worship, when they practice, things like that. In essence, you’re going to be distracting them while I do some snooping around myself.” There was a gleam in Leonid’s eyes that made me think he was going to enjoy himself. Unlike me, who was scared witless, he was actually excited over the thought of venturing into the potential enemy’s lair.
And who was I to take that away from him?
I heaved a great sigh, pulling myself up. “All right, all right. I’ll go.”
Vernen was quick to protest, as I expected. “Irina, if you don’t want to—”
“No, I do.” I wiped at the sweat that had formed on my forehead. “I mean, no, I really don’t want to walk in there, but it’s like I said, I want to find out what’s going on. And I want to prevent any further murders. Besides,” I said, staring at my feet, “if Leonid didn’t think I could do this, then he wouldn’t have asked me to, right?” I looked up; Vernen was glaring at his friend while Leonid was studying me carefully. He nodded once, slowly, and Vernen threw up his hands in disgust. “He’s not pressuring me!” I added for everyone’s sake. “This is my decision. Promise, Vernen.”
He pointed a finger at me. “The moment you feel uncomfortable, you let me know and we’ll leave. And no one,” he looked pointedly at Leonid, “will blame you, even if you want to leave immediately. I mean it, Irina. You can take one step in there and turn around and walk back out, and no one will voice a single complaint.” He paused. “Right, Leonid?”
The captain was still watching me. “Of course.”
I smiled hesitantly. “Thanks. Both of you. Really, thank you.” I stood up straighter, squaring my shoulders. “I’ll be fine.” I repeated that in my head, like a mantra, as we crossed the street and walked up to the church. I will, I will, I will.
I’ll be fine.
VERNEN GRIPPED THE BRASS HANDLE and yanked the door open. A loud, ominous creak filled the silence. I looked around nervously, certain we had attracted attention.
That’s when I noticed Leonid had vanished.
“Where—” I started to ask, but Vernen shook his head, taking my hand in his and leading me forward, into the cavernous church. Our footsteps echoed off the marble floor, worn and cracked in most spots, but relatively clean. An aisle led from the door to an altar, with long wooden pews set up on either side. The altar was covered in a white sheet but otherwise devoid of ornamentation. The same could be said for the church itself—there were no statues or relics of any kind, giving us very little indication of who—or what—they worshipped. The air smelled faintly of incense and my stomach rolled nervously. I’d smelled that scent once before, on the burly man. Vernen must have noticed my sudden unease; he patted me gently on the shoulder, asking me with his eyes if I was all right. Swallowing hard, I nodded.
We walked down the aisle, but still no one came to greet us. With a shrug, Vernen called out, his voice bouncing off the large space. I gripped his hand tighter, wondering if the members were all in the back somewhere, and Leonid was moments from stumbling upon them. Would we be able to help him? Vernen hadn’t worn his sword—neither had Leonid—but I was sure the two soldiers were armed to the teeth in knives. While the burly man hadn’t appeared to be armed, that didn’t mean his associates wouldn’t carry weapons of their own.
A side door opened, spilling sunlight onto our path. A young man dressed in dark robes stepped into the church. “Oh, hello!” He clapped his hands together and rushed over to meet us in the middle of the aisle. “Visitors, how wonderful!”
It was too late now, but I had a feeling they didn’t get many visitors, and our presence would be viewed as instantly suspicious. But the man in the robe was beaming at us, his face open and honest. Maybe he was new?
“Were you closed?” Vernen asked. “We didn’t see any signs listing the hours, and we wanted to see the inside—”
“Oh no, no,” the man said, “we’re never closed. You may come at any time to worship, no matter how early or late the hour.” The man was a little taller than Vernen, with closely cropped brown hair and warm brown eyes. With his laid-back nature, he was vastly different from the man who had attacked me. Perhaps we had come to the wrong place after all?
But Vernen remained in character, introducing himself as Roger and me as his fiancée, Sally. I shot him a look, which he ignored. We hadn’t discussed characters or stories beforehand; had Vernen made this up on the fly? And what about the fact that I wasn’t wearing an engagement ring on my finger? I hid my left hand—Vernen still held the right one—in the folds of my skirt, hoping the man wouldn’t notice.
“We’re looking for a place to get married,” Vernen continued smoothly. “And we were passing by when we saw this beautiful church, and Sally just had to stop in and see the inside. Isn’t that right, dear?”
I jumped when he elbowed me in the side. “W-What? I mean, yes!” I resisted the urge to glare at Vernen. Did he realize how implausible his story sounded? First of all, what would we be doing walking down this street in this seedy part of Dusk? And beautiful? The church was intimidating!
But the man in the robes simply nodded. “I’m so delighted to hear that. My name is Sorel; please feel free to ask me any questions about our establishment.”
“What do you worship?” I blurted out. Vernen squeezed my hand tightly in warning. I held my breath, waiting for Sorel to reprimand me.
Instead, he smiled and gestured to the pews. “Shall we?” We sat down with me between the two men. Vernen’s leg touched mine and we remained holding hands. After we were comfortable, Sorel began speaking again. “This is the Church of Essence. We worship Jaegger. Have either of you heard of Him?”
I shook my head before I remembered I was playing a role and should be following Vernen’s lead. Chastened, I turned my head to see his reaction, but Vernen was also shaking his head. “We’re not religious people, per se,” he explained with a smile. “But I promised her ma that I’d do things right and get married in an establishment as fine as this one.” Vernen leaned forward, a gleam in his blue eyes. “What does Jaegger represent?”
Sorel seemed pleased at Vernen’s interest. Spreading his hands wide, he said, “Immortality.”
We exchanged baffled glances. Nothing was making sense. First a church, now immortality? How did this connect to Bantheir?
Vernen cleared his throat. “And you… have rituals that allow you to become immortal?”
Next to him, I stiffened. Fearful of Sorel becoming suspicious, I quickly blurted out, “Can we be together forever? I l-love him very much, you see.”
Sorel smiled and patted my free hand. “Of course you do. And many couples just like you two come here seeking Jaegger’s blessing. I’ve always told them the same thing, but…” His
smile slipped away as his gaze darkened. “After the burglary, things haven’t been the same.”
“Burglary?” My voice rose in both pitch and volume, echoing throughout the church.
“Don’t be scared, sweetheart,” Vernen said. There was a stern warning in his voice I hoped Sorel hadn’t heard, reminding me to stay in character. “I’m sure the church is very safe.”
“Of course,” Sorel reassured me quickly. He was probably worried I’d hightail it out of there, telling Vernen to find another church to have our wedding in. “There was no violence. The perpetrator merely took something that belonged to the church—and to Jaegger himself. Without the Essence, we will never obtain our promised immortality.”
“And what is this Essence?” Vernen prodded.
“It was a great source of power.” Sorel smiled fondly. “Most people were skeptical when they saw it. It’s about this big.” He held up his fingers, indicating something very tiny. “Milky-white, rounded and smooth, most people believed it was simply a pebble. But we knew differently. It was a source of power, a gift from Jaegger itself. When the proper ritual was performed, the caster would obtain eternal life.”
I exchanged another look with Vernen. It sounded like utter nonsense to me, but people obviously believed in it. Someone out there was performing something that seemed very much like a ritual. I glanced around the church again, growing exasperated at the lack of decorations. If only we could find those strange markings that had been found at all the crime scenes! Then we’d know for sure if the murderer was trying to become immortal!
“What kind of ritual?” I asked, knowing we needed more information.
Sorel stood so suddenly, I jolted in surprise. He tucked his hands in the sleeves of his robes. “Come, let me show you the rest of the church, and you can decide if you want to hold your wedding here or not.” He strolled away before I could protest, completely ignoring my question in the process.
The Fading Dusk Page 12
