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The Fading Dusk

Page 22

by Melissa Giorgio


  “Give that to me!” Bantheir snarled.

  “Get your filthy magic off of her first,” Leonid responded, matching Bantheir’s growling tone perfectly.

  Shoving me aside, Bantheir limped toward him. “I am going to rip you apart, soldier!”

  Leonid cocked an eyebrow. “Is that limp supposed to intimidate me, magician?”

  Bantheir screamed with rage, throwing a flash of magic at Leonid, who dove to his right, tucking his body into a neat ball. He jumped to his feet immediately, waving the Essence in front of him. “Be careful, Bantheir. You don’t want to break it.”

  The magician stilled. When he started laughing, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Leonid stared at him like he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. No one could be that evil and still sane.

  “You’re right,” Bantheir said, still chortling. “Why should I try to take it from you, when I have her?” His head swung toward me, capturing me in another wave of manipulation magic. I threw up my hands, trying in vain to block it.

  It hit me like a punch to the face, my head threatening to burst as blood dripped from my nose. This time, the pain didn’t work to my advantage. The more I resisted, the more the pain intensified until I couldn’t take it any longer. Falling to my knees, I felt myself slipping away.

  Vaguely, I heard Leonid screaming at me, but it was muted, like my ears had been stuffed with cotton. A new voice overrode Leonid’s, commanding me.

  “Pick up the knife, Irina. Pick it up and stab yourself in the stomach, repeatedly, until the soldier hands the Essence to me.

  “Do it. Now.”

  I was an outsider in my own body. Someone else, a stranger, made my legs work, picking me up and carrying me over to the discarded and bloodied knife. Lifting it in up in jerky movements, I raised the blade over my stomach.

  “Look at the soldier while you stab yourself.”

  Leonid was still shouting, his eyes frantic as they darted between me and Bantheir. At some point he had drawn his sword, and while he pointed it at Bantheir, he hesitated. Even from where I stood, I could see the conflict in his eyes.

  Go for Bantheir, or save me?

  My arms lifted as I prepared to stab myself.

  Defeated, Leonid hurled the Essence at Bantheir, making his choice.

  In saving me, he had doomed us all.

  The moment Bantheir snatched up the Essence, Leonid ran to my side, knocking the knife from my hands. The clang as it clattered to the ground startled me and I jerked forward, falling into his arms. “Leonid!” The spell on me evaporated; I was myself again.

  He pulled me tightly to his chest, squeezing hard. “It’s all right. You’re all right.”

  “But Bantheir has the Essence!” I watched him start the dark, shadowy spell again over Leonid’s shoulder.

  Leonid buried his face in my hair. “I couldn’t let him kill you.”

  I wrapped my arms around him. What an idiot I’d been, to think I should face Bantheir on my own. Gratitude for one last moment with Leonid warmed me. “Leonid, I—”

  Something heavy hit me and I shuddered from the impact. Another spell, different from the other ones. This one was seizing my body and pulling me away from Leonid, from Dusk. I let out a cry of pain; it was tearing me apart!

  “Lark?” Panic was laced through his words as my body began jerking uncontrollably. White filled my vision, blinding me. My stomach roiled in fear.

  “Let her go.” A new voice: Parnaby.

  Leonid’s grip on me tightened. “No!”

  “Let her go, Leonid! It’s too late, the spell is calling her! She’ll die if you force her to stay!”

  “Irina.” I felt the pressure of his lips against mine, and then, that too faded away.

  Parnaby’s voice, a whisper. “Let us hope she makes the right choice…”

  Silence. Nothing.

  A strong smell, of sulfur and fire, assaulted my nose. Startled, I opened my eyes and shrieked.

  Towering over me, at maybe ten feet tall, was a dragon the color of ink—blackest black scales that reflected no light whatsoever. The only color on the dragon was its eyes, an unnatural bright aqua, surrounded in white. They were currently fixed on me; when the dragon saw how scared I was, its lips curled into a lazy smile, revealing row upon row of sharp, pointy white teeth and a forked red tongue. Two jagged horns about the length of my arm protruded from the dragon’s head, and even its wings, currently tucked tight against its body, looked sharp and angular. Brushing up against the dragon would be like walking into a thorny rosebush.

  The air around us shimmered iridescently, like we were standing in the middle of a giant soap bubble. When I looked down, my stomach roiled nervously. We were suspended forty feet over the courtyard, Leonid and the others as motionless as statues. I watched, waiting for someone to move, even calling Leonid’s name at one point, but it was as if time had frozen for everyone but me and the dragon.

  I took a quick check of my body and was amazed to find that nothing hurt. The wound on my thigh was gone, and no blood dripped from my nose. Something told me the moment the bubble burst, I’d be aching again.

  The dragon lifted a claw and my gaze flicked back to it, wondering if it was about to slash me open. But it merely turned its claw back and forth, as if it were inspecting its fingernails for dirt. The movement was so much like what I’d seen Parnaby do the night before that I had to swallow a nervous giggle. The dragon paused, narrowing its eyes.

  I gulped.

  “Do you speak, human, or do you just gape?” it asked in a deep, rumbling voice that could only be male. It was highly disconcerting to see the dragon’s mouth moving as he spoke, exactly like a human’s would. At first I’d feared his strength and pointy teeth; now I feared his intelligence.

  “I-I-I—”

  The dragon rolled his eyes. “She speaks, yet she is not coherent.” He dropped his front two legs to the ground and arched his back, stretching like a cat before walking over to me. I was so scared every part of me shook, and I was certain my heart was about to explode from overuse.

  The dragon shoved his face close to mine, the smell of sulfur intensifying. My eyes watered and I switched to breathing through my mouth. It didn’t help. “You have summoned me here, human, for a reason, I assume. Do not just stand there, shaking. Speak!”

  His last word was a fierce roar, causing my ears to ring. I shrieked again, but a flash of annoyance shot through me. I stomped my foot. “It’s not every day that a person comes in contact with a dragon! You’re supposed to be extinct, you know!”

  “Extinct?” His eyes narrowed dangerously and I gulped again, wondering if I was seconds away from being his next meal. “Do you think the mighty Jaegger would allow a silly human to slay him? I am not as weak as my brethren, and you would be wise not to forget that!”

  “You’re Jaegger?” I exclaimed before I could stop myself.

  “Who do you think I am?!” Another roar; I would go deaf from speaking with him.

  “I didn’t know!” I held up my hands, trying to placate him. “I went to your church, but it was devoid of ornamentation.” An image of the throne flashed before my eyes. “Oh… The chair. It had a carving of you.”

  Jaegger sniffed. “Stupid humans. There should be life-size murals of me hanging from all the walls. A giant sculpture on the altar! To be reduced to a carving on a chair…” He shook his head. “What is this world coming to?”

  “I-I’m sorry,” I said, annoyed. It was a little unfair that he was taking his sour mood out on me; it wasn’t like I was one of his followers who’d decided to give up on him! Then again, his kind had been mistreated by humans for a long, long time. I could almost understand why he was so bitter.

  He sniffed again. “You apologize, and yet you are still wasting my time, human. Do you not want to return to your lover?”

  I blushed, sneaking a glance at a still-frozen Leonid. “He’s not my lover.”

  Jaegger snorted. “Not yet, at least. You desire
him, and he you. It is only a matter of time. I know how these things work. I watch you humans.”

  My blush increased as I wondered what, exactly, Jaegger watched.

  “Again, I ask, what is it that you want?” Jaegger shifted his body slightly, and my eyes were drawn to a spot on the dragon’s right shoulder. It was curious—a piece of him was missing. It wasn’t a scar, or that a chunk of flesh had been cut from him, revealing muscle and bone underneath, but that an actual, rounded, egg-sized shape piece had been carved out of him.

  “What happened?” I asked. I lifted my hand to point, then froze, fearing he would deem that gesture rude.

  The dragon, oddly, knew exactly what I meant. “Long ago, before the old wars where the magicians and dragons killed themselves in their fight for power, I gave pieces of myself—my Essence—to my most devout followers to worship. When the time was right, they would perform the ancient ritual and summon me so that I may grant their desires.”

  “Immortality, you mean?” I asked.

  Jaegger studied me curiously, tilting his head to one side. “Not just immortality, human. I could render Dusk to dust, if you so wished it. All it takes is a wish and a sacrifice.”

  “N-No thank you!” I said in a rush, my mouth dry. Jaegger’s power was just too awesome to comprehend, making me lightheaded and fidgety.

  He nodded toward the spot on his shoulder. “The piece you hold in your hand is the final Essence.”

  “But I don’t—” A sudden flash warmed my left hand. Uncurling my fist, I gasped when I saw the milky stone resting in my palm. “I don’t understand! I wasn’t holding it, Bantheir was!” I looked down again at the frozen figures, my eyes skimming from Leonid standing with Parnaby to Elyse kneeling next to Aden. Besides those four, the courtyard was empty. Alarm raced through me, making every one of my nerves tingle. “Wait, where’s Bantheir?”

  Jaegger, watching my obvious distress, was amused. “He’s right here, human.” He moved his gargantuan body aside to reveal a confused Bantheir standing behind him. How long had he been standing there? And why hadn’t he said anything during my exchange with Jaegger? Unless he hadn’t been able to?

  Bantheir’s face tightened with anger the moment he saw me. “Irina!” He lunged forward, but Jaegger blocked him, moving much too fast for a creature his size.

  “Stand down, magician. You will not harm her.” The fire blazing in Jaegger’s eyes held little room for argument. “She is the true wielder of the Essence. You sent her with the spell, did you not? Therefore it is her wish to make.”

  Bantheir smoothed his clothes with nervous, fluttery fingers. Like me, his wounds from the real world had vanished, and his clothes were whole and clean once more. His face, however, was drawn, and he couldn’t stop fidgeting. I tore my eyes away. Watching him made me nervous!

  “Well, get on with it,” Bantheir told Jaegger. Or maybe he was speaking to me, I wasn’t sure. I could tell Jaegger didn’t appreciate Bantheir’s tone of voice; his ears flattened back and he opened his mouth to yell.

  Not relishing the idea of going deaf again, I quickly said, “I’m not giving you immortality, Bantheir.” Jaegger had spoken of a sacrifice; I assumed he meant my life in exchange for Bantheir’s immortality. But what if I wished for Bantheir to die? Would I still die, too?

  In thirteen years, I’d never seen such an intense look of hatred on Bantheir’s face. This is the real Bantheir, I thought. The other man was a farce, an illusion, just like his street shows. Although now I wondered if Bantheir had been using magic then too, just a little bit, to make the illusions more awe-inspiring. I couldn’t believe how blind I’d been, to not notice what was going on under my own nose.

  “You selfish girl,” Bantheir hissed. “After everything I did for you, this is how you repay me?” He made a subtle movement with his left hand. Too late, I realized he was trying to manipulate me.

  Jaegger growled, and nothing happened. No tingle of magic, no compulsion to agree to Bantheir’s wishes. Bantheir looked furious, while Jaegger wore a smug expression as he curled his body up, resting his head on his front paws. Although he looked like he was ready for a nap, his aqua-eyes remained open and alert, fixed solely on Bantheir.

  I took a deep breath, steadying myself.

  It made me confident, knowing I had a god protecting me.

  WE FACED ONE ANOTHER DOWN. Jaegger, who had been so impatient earlier, now seemed content to watch the two of us go head-to-head. Now that I knew he wouldn’t let Bantheir harm me, my earlier fear had evaporated, replaced by a cold, dark anger. There were a thousand things I wanted to ask Bantheir, but my most important question was, “Why?”

  Bantheir frowned. “Why what?”

  “Why did you do this?” I spread my hands wide, indicating all of Dusk. “Why did you suddenly lose your mind and go around murdering people? Or is this nothing new? Were you killing people even before you met me?”

  “No.”

  I gritted my teeth in frustration. I wanted an explanation, not one syllable answers! “So you just woke up one day and decided to kill someone?”

  He fumbled at the collar of his shirt. “No, I woke up one day to this!” Bantheir yanked the fabric down, revealing skin the color of coal. The black was splashed across his chest in uneven waves, creeping toward his neck like long fingers intent on choking him.

  I gasped, clapping a hand to my mouth. “What happened?” Despite myself, I inched closer for a better look. The skin gave off a cloying scent, like it was rotting. “Bantheir—”

  Jerking away from me, he quickly fixed his clothes, hiding the decayed skin from sight. Bantheir had always been vain; even now I could see it pained him to share what had happened. “I’m dying, Irina.”

  His words hung in the air, heavy and horrible. Unexpectedly, I found tears springing to my eyes. Even now, I could still cry for my master. “How is this possible?” I took a stumbling step backward, colliding with Jaegger’s bulky form. Instead of complaining, he shifted slightly so I was more comfortable. I’d been terrified of him before, but now I found his presence reassuring, and I leaned against him gratefully.

  Bantheir began pacing before us. “I’ve always been a magician. A real magician,” he clarified with a wave of his hand. “A few years ago, I made the mistake of involving myself with a traveling performer. She’d arrived in the city with her troupe, and I instantly sensed that she stood apart from the rest of them because she had magic. After one of her shows, I invited her to a game of cards. I thought I’d found a kindred spirit, but the entire time we were playing, she acted like she was better than me. Finally, I used magic to cheat, to show her that her magic was nothing compared to mine, and she responded by cursing me. I thought nothing of it until, one day, I saw this!” Bantheir gestured toward his chest. “I tried to track down the traveler, but she left Dusk ages ago. Scouring the slums, I found someone who knew what this was.”

  “A curse,” I whispered, wondering when all of this—the original curse, Bantheir’s treks to the slums—had occurred. Why hadn’t I noticed any of it?

  He nodded grimly. “Yes. First my skin turns that awful color. Then, my blood is poisoned, and I spend my final weeks burning of fever, shivering from the cold, and unable to swallow any food or water as my throat swells up.” He stopped pacing to stare at me, his blue eyes dark and cold. “If you knew this was your fate, would you sit by idly?”

  “I…” I looked down, knowing my answer but refusing to say it.

  “Of course you wouldn’t. No sane person would.” Bantheir resumed his pacing. “I searched far and wide for a cure, an antidote, anything! Just when I thought all was lost, and I was doomed to die, I learned of the Essence.”

  Behind me Jaegger kept quiet, but I knew he was listening as intently as I was.

  “I infiltrated the church, pretended I was interested in becoming a disciple, and when their guard was down, I stole the Essence. That nosy bastard from the army caught me, but I managed to dispose of him and make him th
e first sacrifice to Jaegger,” Bantheir said, a manic gleam in his eye. His pacing picked up speed—back and forth, back and forth he went, from one side of the bubble to the other. “The first murder was bad, yes, but the rest got easier with time.”

  Sickened, I could only shake my head at his disregard for human life. How could killing get easier? What kind of monster was he? I didn’t care how frightened he was at the prospect of dying, it was still wrong!

  “You’re crazy,” I told him. “Yes, it’s horrible that you were cursed, but what makes you think your life is more important than anyone else’s? You killed husbands, wives, fathers, mothers.” I thought of Vernen, of Gerald, of the others who’d been murdered without hesitation. “Don’t you care at all?”

  Bantheir pulled himself up to his full height. “I am worth more than any of them combined! I wield magic, a dying art! I am superior to everyone!” He pointed to my hand that held the Essence. “You should be honored to sacrifice your meaningless life for mine!”

  “Meaningless?” My heart clenched. “Is that what you really think of me, after all the time we spent together? I’m nothing to you but another life force that you can use for your sick and twisted spell?”

  “Yes,” he snapped. “Tell me, Irina, what would you contribute to this world by living? You have no magic, no family, no friends. You are entirely alone! Not a soul would miss you if you vanished right now!”

  My grip on the Essence tightened. “You’re wrong—I do have friends!” I pointed to the others gathered below us, naming each in turn. “Leonid, Aden, Elyse, and Parnaby—they’re all in the courtyard for me! And Vernen—” I choked back a sob as I remembered him in his final moments, after Bantheir had cruelly slit his throat and he’d struggled so hard to continue breathing. “Vernen was my friend too, and you killed him! You killed him for no reason!”

  “I killed him because he got in the way!” Bantheir countered. He pointed a finger at me. “You were supposed to use the Essence to wish your life for mine! After all I did for you, is that too much to ask? I gave you a chance at life!”

 

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