The Fading Dusk

by Melissa Giorgio

  “Actually,” I spoke up, hoping the flash of pain wouldn’t strike my stomach again, “I think I know the answer to that.”

  THE TWO MEN STARED AT me in astonishment. “Excuse me, Lark,” Leonid said, holding up a finger. “Can you explain to me why you’re only sharing this now?”

  “Excuse me, Leonid,” I said, matching his snooty tone perfectly, “I only just figured it out as I was leaving the church.”

  “Before or after I saved your life?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Before, but that’s not important.”

  “Not important?” he roared so loudly that people turned to stare at us.

  Vernen elbowed his friend hard in the stomach. “Leon, shut up! What’s the matter with you?”

  Before they could start bickering, I jumped up and grabbed a fallen tree branch from the ground. Facing the two of them with my hands on my hips, I said, “Look, you’re right. I didn’t properly thank you for saving my life.” I executed a near-perfect curtsey. “Thank you.”

  Leonid looked pained. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “And I didn’t want to just blurt out what I’d discovered while you were talking because then you’d yell at me,” I continued. “You’re a bit of a grump, you know?”

  Vernen started howling with laughter, causing more people to glance our way. Leonid looked like he was torn between wanting to punch someone or getting up and leaving. Before he could start yelling again, I squatted and started drawing in the dirt with my stick.

  “Look, this is Dusk, right?” I said as I drew a wide circle. I started marking off the crime scenes with small dots. I paused, meeting Leonid’s gaze. “When I was leaving the church, I took notice of the stained glass window. Besides the throne, it was the only ornamentation in the entire place.”

  “That’s because they probably sold everything else,” he said.

  “Well, lucky for us, they kept the window. Did you happen to see it?”

  Both men shook their heads.

  I began connecting the dots, hearing Leonid’s breath catch as he saw the shape I made. He crouched down next to me, watching as I added the final point in the western part of the slums. “A… star?”

  “This is the symbol we were looking for, Leonid. A star inside of a circle—a pentacle.”

  For a few moments, Leonid couldn’t speak. With his finger, he traced the lines I’d drawn, going from dot to dot until he ended at the southwestern spot. “This is it,” he said in a hushed tone. “The next site for the ritual. Vern?”

  Vernen was already nodding. “You want me to go there, right?” He squinted at my crudely drawn map, analyzing it. “Based on the other points, it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out its exact spot in the slums. It has to be along the same longitude as this one.” He pointed to the other dot in the slums. “And between these two.” Now he pointed at the western point in Way, and the northern point in Rise. “Simple, really. I’ll have it figured out in no time.”

  “Go back to the prison first and fetch some men to take with you.” Leonid rattled off a bunch of names, ending with Aden’s. I sucked in my breath, but Leonid ignored me. “Set them up out of sight, and then come back so we can discuss further details.”

  “Come back here or to the prison?”

  “Neither,” Leonid said. He rose, holding out a hand for me. After a moment’s hesitation, I allowed him to pull me to my feet. “We’re going to Bantheir’s home. Meet us there.”

  Home? We were going… home?

  “Understood.” Vernen took off, disappearing into the crowd.

  Leonid dragged his boot over my drawing, wiping away all traces of it. “This is good, Lark. No, more than good. It’s brilliant.” His eyes were shining brightly with excitement. “We’ll prevent another senseless murder and capture Bantheir, once and for all.”

  I shook my head, placing a hand over my stomach. “Not him…”

  “Lark?” I refused to meet his gaze, but I could hear the worry in his soft voice. “Back in the church—what happened?”

  “I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I snapped, suddenly angry. I didn’t want to talk about it again. I didn’t want Leonid thinking there was something wrong with me, that I was weak or foolish for stubbornly clinging to a small sliver of hope when I should just give up.

  I was scared of how I’d react if he told me to give up.

  A chilly breeze brushed past us, causing goosebumps to pop up on my skin. Shivering, I hugged myself tightly and changed the subject. “Why are we going home?”

  He studied me carefully. It was clear he didn’t want to drop the subject, and something told me we’d be discussing it again sooner rather than later. “To search for the Essence.” Shucking off his coat, he draped it around my shoulders; I made to refuse, but there was a stern look in his eyes that told me not to bother.

  Nodding my thanks, I asked, “Do you really think he’d just leave something priceless lying around?”

  “The members of the Church of Essence seem to think so.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, well, they also believed that I was marrying Vernen.” I gazed out across the park, watching a mother pick up a crying tot and carry him away. “If I had something that powerful, I wouldn’t leave it alone for a moment.”

  “True, but don’t forget, the church knew he stole it.” Leonid scratched his chin. “Bantheir is smart; the logical thing to do is place the Essence in a spot so remote no one would ever have a chance of finding it.”

  “And you think that spot is in my house?”

  He spread his hands wide. “Honestly, I don’t know. But it doesn’t hurt to check it out. Or are you that eager to return to your cell?”

  I shook my head vehemently. I’d already known going back to the prison would be difficult, but once I returned home?

  Leonid would have to carry me kicking and screaming back to my cell.

  As if reading my thoughts, he said, “I know what I’m asking is hard—what I always ask of you is hard, but please, cooperate with me, Lark.”

  There was such an earnest look in his eyes that I found it hard to say no. Swallowing hard, I nodded. “I’m trying my best here, Leonid.”

  “I know!” he said quickly. Shocking me, he put his hands on my shoulders and leaned down to look into my eyes. With only inches separating us, my heart started pounding a steady beat. “Don’t think that I don’t know that! Or that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing, either. I just need you to hang on a little bit longer. This will all be over soon, I promise.” He jerked away, as if only just realizing how close we were. Clearing his throat he said, “Come, let’s go.”

  He walked away before I could voice my next question. What happens after that, Leonid? I asked his retreating back. After this is over, what happens to me?

  We walked in silence. I kept my head down, barely paying attention to my surroundings. As we neared my home, my feet carried me on pure instinct. How many times had I walked these same streets, passing these same homes and shops, clutching a basket of goods from the market? How many times had I tagged behind Bantheir, listening to him talk about magic tricks? My eyes welled with tears, and I blinked rapidly against them, refusing to let Leonid see my grief.

  I didn’t know what to think anymore, or what to feel. Again and again the evidence pointed to Bantheir, but just thinking about him being guilty made me want to curl up into a ball as my body was assaulted by waves of agony. Was that how I’d spend the rest of my life? Crippled by my grief, by his betrayal—

  No, he didn’t betray you! I squeezed my eyes shut, scared I was about to be sick, and stumbled to a stop, breathing through my mouth. My skin was clammy with sweat, and I shivered hard enough that my teeth chattered together.

  There was something wrong with me. I understood what Vernen had been saying, about refusing to believe a loved one could be capable of committing a heinous crime, but to become physically sick each and every time I thought about it? That wasn’t normal.

/>   The evidence was piling up. The witness. Sorel’s testimony. The stolen Essence. What was it going to take to convince me—

  I fell to my knees as a hot whip of pain slashed across my belly. Leonid was at my side in a flash, shouting my nickname. For a crazy moment, I was convinced he was going to scoop me up into his arms and carry me the rest of the way. I put my hand on his arm and shook my head vehemently. “I’m fine.”

  He clenched his jaw. “You’re clearly not fine.”

  “Leonid, please.” My voice broke pathetically and he paused, biting back the heated words he was about to throw in my face.

  With a sigh, he asked, “What can I do?”

  “Take me home, please.” Despite everything, I still wanted to go. Maybe we’d find something there, something the soldiers missed when they searched the house. Something that would help prove Bantheir’s innocence and stop the horrible pain from assaulting me.

  We weren’t far. It was just another block away; I could make it. Leonid helped me stand and hovered nearby, not touching, but ready to catch me if I fell again. I ached at his closeness—the lack of touching was torture on my skin, but I wasn’t brave enough to reach out and grab him. What if he pushed me away?

  “Here we are,” Leonid murmured, breaking into my thoughts. Startled, I looked up to see my familiar, slanting brick home looming in front of me. Two soldiers were posted outside the door; they saluted Leonid sharply as we slowly mounted the stairs together. The guards gave me curious looks but said nothing. “We’re going to be looking around,” Leonid told them. “Vernen will be joining us shortly. Send him in when he gets here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Leonid let himself in; I couldn’t help but think how strange that was. It was my home, yet he seemed more comfortable than I did. It was like a different place altogether; the interior was dark and the air smelled stale. Standing in the foyer, my stomach flipped nervously when I remembered what had happened the last time I stood there. I didn’t want to look, but my gaze moved to the spot where the burly man had died anyway.

  I let out a sigh of relief when I saw the floor was clean. I’d expected a bloodstain to cover the floor like a red lake, but there was nothing.

  “I had the men scrub it clean,” Leonid said, watching me carefully. “Here and upstairs, as well.”

  I nodded my thanks, unsure if I could speak without bursting into tears.

  He ran a hand through his hair, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “How about I check around down here while you look upstairs?”

  I nodded again, grabbing the banister with one hand as I slowly mounted the steps.

  “Lark?”

  I paused, staring straight ahead, my curls blocking him from seeing the side of my face.

  There was a moment of hesitation, and then I heard him softly say, “Never mind.”

  At the top of the stairs was a small landing that branched off, leading to a narrow hallway. To my left was Bantheir’s bedroom. That would be the most logical place to check first, but again my feet took over, carrying me straight to my smaller bedroom on my right. I pushed the door open slowly, holding my breath.

  It was the same. That man from the Church of Essence must not have had a chance to check my room before he was killed. And if Leonid’s soldiers had come in here, they’d left everything in its place.

  We never had a lot of money. What we did earn went toward rent, food and props for Bantheir’s magic shows. My room was outfitted in simple wooden furniture with my bed pressed up against the far wall, a small nightstand occupying the space next to it. The sole window was above the nightstand, with curtains so old they’d lost their coloring framing the glass like wispy ghosts. I had one four-drawer dresser, and next to it, wedged into the far-right corner, was a desk with a chair. Above the desk, two shelves had been hammered into the wall, covered entirely with beloved trinkets from devoted patrons. More objects covered the top of the dresser; I walked up to them, touching each in turn. A small china dog, its tail missing. A doll with curly red hair like mine. A pair of dice, a rose carved out of wood, and my favorite, a horse made from onyx. It was rearing back on its hind legs, its mane blowing in the wind. Bantheir had wanted to sell it, but I’d sworn I’d never speak to him again if he did.

  I thought I’d feel comforted, surrounded by familiarity, but instead I felt a deep ache in my chest, as if my heart were being torn in two. I stumbled over to my bed and sank down to the floor, leaning my back against the mattress as I pulled my knees to my chest and began sobbing.

  I HEARD HIS FOOTSTEPS ON the stairs, each step a hollow clunk that reverberated throughout the house. I counted the steps, knowing he’d reached the landing when I got to twelve. I expected him to call out for me, but he came to my room without a word.

  I continued to bury my head in my arms, refusing to look at him. My sobs had tapered off a little while ago, but I knew my face would be splotchy, my eyes bloodshot. I didn’t want him to see me like that.

  I didn’t want him to feel guilty.

  Leonid walked the perimeter of my room before settling down next to me, stretching his long legs out in front of him. After a full minute of silence passed, I heard him murmur under his breath, “Look at that.”

  “What?” I asked despite myself, lifting my head. My eyes grew wide; I hadn’t realized how close he was. Our shoulders were practically touching, and he was currently holding his arm next to mine, regarding it curiously. His coat that I’d been wearing had slipped off, and I could feel the heat radiating from his skin onto mine.

  “I was comparing our skin,” he said. “I’ve never seen anyone with such white skin before. It really stands out next to mine, doesn’t it?”

  I looked at Leonid’s copper-colored skin, marveling at the way it seemed to glow in the light. Compared to my pale, washed-out skin, it was vibrant and healthy-looking. And yet he was staring at my skin like it was something he’d never seen before.

  “You don’t think so?” he asked when I didn’t comment.

  I shrugged. “It’s nothing special. Any little bump I get turns into a dark bruise that lasts for days. And it makes me look sickly, like I’ve just gotten over a bad bout of flu.”

  Leonid stared at me. “You’re crazy. Combine it with this hair…” He shocked me by reaching over and tugging gently on one of my curls. “It’s no wonder your room is filled with so many treasures.” He pointed to my shelves. “I bet those all came from male admirers.”

  My face flushed. “Of course they didn’t!”

  “Really? Not even one?”

  I pushed myself up, marching over to my dresser and picking up a worn doll that was missing one of its blue button eyes. “I was given this when I was six from a woman who felt bad for me after I fell and skinned my knee.” My hands skimmed over my trinkets, resting on a stuffed squirrel. “This came from an elderly couple who thought I was cute.” I gestured to a bunch of glass animals. “This was from a child who thought our act was entertaining and wanted to give us something in return. I refused to take his precious animals and he burst into tears, sobbing until I finally gave in.”

  “Ha!” Leonid said, standing as well. “I knew you had a male admirer!”

  “Leonid, he was five.”

  “That doesn’t matter because I’m still right.” He leaned over, brushing his body against mine as he tapped a deck of cards. I sucked in a sudden sharp breath, feeling a little dizzy. “What about these?”

  “Those?” My voice came out squeaky and I cleared it before speaking. “That’s… uh…” I looked away, embarrassed. “That’s for practice.”

  “Really?” Leonid picked up the deck and handed it to me. “Do a trick.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “Come on, Lark, show me some magic!”

  He was making me blush again, and it took all of my self-control not to throw the cards into his handsome face. I should never have opened my big mouth; I should have told them the cards were a gift, too!r />
  I always practiced magic in hiding, alone. Even Bantheir didn’t know I tried to imitate some of his tricks. I wasn’t nearly good as him, but I’d hoped someday…

  Now magic—fake or real—was the last thing I wanted anything to do with.

  But Leonid wouldn’t be deterred, so with a heavy sigh, I picked up the cards and spread them out in a fan, their blue and white backs facing us. “Pick a card.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be more enthusiastic than that? You sound like you’re bored. If you’re bored, then I’m going to be bored, and I won’t tip you!”

  “Just pick a card!”

  Smirking, Leonid pulled one out, glancing at it without showing me what it was. “Now what?” he asked.

  “Put it back in the deck.”

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere you like.” I was warming to the trick, despite myself. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction when I revealed his card.

  Leonid obeyed. I waved my hand over the deck, pretending I was casting magic. Bantheir always built up the excitement, speaking imaginary words and pretending he was concentrating very hard with his mind, but I was too embarrassed to attempt something like that in front of Leonid. “I’m going to make your card and only your card reveal itself. Ready?”

  He nodded, dark eyes sparkling. I wondered if he was humoring me.

  I spread the cards out again, the backs once more facing us. Toward the middle of the deck, the two of spades appeared, face up. I grinned triumphantly. “Is that your card, Leonid?”

  He frowned. “No.”

  “No?” I felt my face fall. How? I’d done it the right way, it had to be—