Chapter 93: You Care About Him an Awful Lot
MARIUS
I left the room, leaving Thomas behind.
There wasn’t much more to be said between us. For now.
I wanted to talk to Briant. Falken specifically said that I should ensure he did not talk about Blanche’s ’talent’ to anyone. He was the first to tell me to keep it a secret, so I had no reason to conclude that he would be going around telling people about it. Also, it seemed neither Alexis nor Dimitri knew about Briant’s childhood encounter with Blanche. However, considering their closeness, if Blanche ever came up in their conversations, it was entirely possible that Briant might talk about the incident.
It would be rather odd for me to tell him now that he should keep it a secret, though, after being the one who heard the story from him. Nevertheless, a duty was a duty. I couldn’t risk my hesitation leading to failure. So I walked over to Briant’s room and knocked on the door.
"Come in," I heard Dimitri’s voice from inside.
When I walked in, Dimitri and Briant were playing cards, sitting on the floor. I came here for Briant, but something else—or the absence of that something—caught my eye.
"Where is Skylark?" I asked.
"Aye, that silly boy forgot to bring something from the classroom. He said he’d go fetch it quickly. He should be back soon."
That didn’t sound right. Such a lie would only work on Dimitri.
"Did you need anything?" Briant asked me.
"Not now. Thanks."
I closed the door again and immediately headed out of the dormitory, rushing my way to the Academy’s main building.
Skylark certainly wasn’t going to the classroom. There could be nothing he ’forgot’ there that couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning.
There was also no other place Skylark would even think about going at night.
For whatever reason, he must have gone to the art room.
I hurried to the art room on the second floor, but when I arrived, I found that it was dark and empty. Skylark wasn’t here.
Just as I was about to leave, though, something caught my eye in the pale moonlight that was flooding the art room, for the room had large windows with the curtains open.
It was a large canvas propped on an easel in the spot where Blanche sat.
Out of pure curiosity, I walked over to check out the picture she’d been painting.
The picture was mostly dark, with thick, rough, violent brushstrokes of black paint protruding from the canvas, noticeable even under the moonlight. In the middle stood a figure, his—or her—whole body covered in a white cloak. It seemed that the blackness was emanating from the figure, but I couldn’t make sense of it.
But I couldn’t take my eyes off the picture either.
There was something infinitely sad about the cloaked figure, and the thick black that surrounded them gave me a sense of imminent despair. Then I noticed there were other figures at the periphery of the canvas, each with their faces horribly contorted, looking at the white-cloaked figure.
Then I heard footsteps approaching from outside—somewhere down the hallway, but they were definitely getting nearer.
I had nothing to hide. I was just here to look for Skylark.
I walked out to check who it was, and to my surprise, it was Falken—walking toward the art room with a small candlelit lamp in his hand.
"Is that you, Marius?" he asked first, his voice slightly reverberating in the quiet hallway.
"Yes, Sir."
"What brings you here at this hour?"
"Have you seen Skylark, Sir?" I asked him.
"What would he be doing here?" he asked, getting closer.
"I’m afraid I don’t know, Sir. Apparently, he told his roommates that he had forgotten something at the Academy and was going to pick it up."
Falken’s face was now clearly visible as he stopped and stood in front of me, lifting the candle lamp.
"Interesting," he said, narrowing his eyes.
"I am concerned, Sir. It is unusual that he’d come back to the Academy at this hour."
"Indeed."
"I don’t know where he could be if not here, Sir."
"Did you check the classroom?"
"No, Sir."
"Let’s go, then."
With that, we headed toward the classroom, but Falken did not quicken his stride.
"It seems you are agitated, Marius," Falken said as we walked.
I thought about telling him what happened with Thomas earlier, but then Thomas’s words echoed in my mind.
What are you going to do? Report me?
That made me hesitate.
You are a rat.
And I knew I couldn’t do it.
Not now.
"I’m just worried about Skylark, Sir."
Then Falken said, without breaking his stride,
"You care about him an awful lot, don’t you, Marius?"
"He... is a good friend, Sir."
"You guys are quite an unlikely pair. I wonder how you became so close."
I thought about our first eye contact at the entrance ceremony. Then him bumping into my legs in the hallway. Then how I threw a pebble at his head. And then—and then—
"It is hard not to like Skylark as a friend, Sir. He is well liked by all his peers."
"I’m very glad to hear that," Falken said without missing a beat, and said no more.
When we arrived at the classroom, it was also empty and dark.
Skylark wasn’t here.
"Perhaps he’s already picked up what he wanted and gone back to the dormitory," Falken said, unconcerned.
"I’m not sure—"
"I am sure he did. Return to your dormitory now too, Marius. If you hurry, you might catch up with him on the way back."
"Yes, Sir."
I wanted to stay around to look for him more, but it was also possible that Falken was right. I started to run back to the dormitory, and on the way back, I saw an owl sitting on a branch, looking at me with its big, round eyes. It felt like I’d seen this owl before—sitting in the same spot at a different time.
And in the distance, I saw the silhouette of someone walking. It looked like Skylark from behind. I shouted out his name.
"Skylark!"
The figure turned, and by the way he moved, I became certain it was him. He seemed to look at me, then turned again and ran toward the dormitory.
Why?
Why are you running away from me, Skylark?