Chapter 16
Sixteen
Iwent to bed in peace, and a nightmare filled my dreams.
I heard the screams from my mother. The begging from my father, cries of my brother and sister. The wet gurgle that came after and the scent of iron. The coppery taste of blood already in my mouth, the snap of bone, the horror of torn flesh.
My hands ached from squeezing the table leg, tears running down my face, my body shaking like a leaf in the wind. I’d hidden. I hadn’t seen anything, only heard. When hands found me, I’d kicked out, striking and screaming, certain they’d come to rip me open too.
Then Rift Mother was there, crushing me to her chest, stroking my hair. “It’s over. The demons are gone. It’s okay. I’m going to give you a new home. I’m here. You’re safe.”
I woke with tears in my eyes, my heart racing, exhausted through the marrow of my being.
I felt as though I hadn’t slept at all, the nightmare keeping me tossing and turning, leaving my eyelids heavy, my limbs dragging.
Regardless, I rose, took my lavender dressing gown and tugged on my slippers.
When I went to the door, it was locked. I knocked gently, and a moment later, the sound came of a key turning.
The Warden waited on the other side, ambiguously veiled.
I turned away and headed toward the pools, the first ritual of the day.
The air in the palace had turned cooler, making goosebumps pebble on my arms. Shadows hovered on the walls, like monsters watching me move.
Waiting for me to whisper the words to open the walls and set them free.
I loathed being followed—the Warden at my back, the sense that my very thoughts might be read aloud.
But I reminded myself that I was focused on finding the truth, and it was worth more than my comfort.
Verena caught my eye as I entered the steaming room.
I sat to undress and folded my clothes on one of the benches.
Some of the dancers had already left the pools and were drying off, braiding each other’s hair, giggling as they dressed.
Hushed whispers filled the area, the aura of excitement from yesterday still hovering in the air.
I slipped into the nearest pool, and as the warmth massaged my limbs, I felt, all at once, how sore I was from a night of dancing with the Hollow King.
Not for the first time, I marveled at the array of young women, all shapes and sizes, all body types, mostly willowy with graceful long limbs, short torsos and small breasts.
It was the way of the dancer, built to take up as little space as possible and let the air move around us, to leap and control the flow.
There in the waters, I felt like one of them. I felt like home.
I sank under the surface, submerging myself completely before rising.
The heat felt good against my skin, and I reached for a bottle of oil, rubbing it into my skin, trying to keep my focus on myself, all the while listening for gossip.
By the time I surfaced again, the others had gone, their laughter echoing in the passageways.
Except for Verena. She stepped out of one of the far pools, walked over, and joined me.
Reflexively, I stiffened.
“I know you’re angry with me,” she said. “You left my room, asked for a guard of your own, and you weren’t around at all last night.”
I didn’t want to talk about this. “I thought time would help.”
“And did it?”
I started working my fingers through my hair. “Maybe. Verena, as you know, I don’t hold grudges. I’ll own up to my mistakes. I thought we finished this discussion. I’d rather hear about Sacred Mother, what do you know?”
“She comes tomorrow. You missed the announcement at supper, didn’t you?”
“I’d already retired for the night.”
“She’s come to watch us practice. She wants to see the dancers, and I hear the Lead Dancer in particular.”
I knew this, but discomfort rolled through me. “Why?”
Verena shrugged. “Why not? You’re the one who leads the dance, who controls the magic that keeps the rift sealed.”
The bitterness in her tone was unmistakable. I ignored it. “I meant to ask what you know about the Lead Dancers before me. What happened to them? The one before me, and the one before her?”
“You’ve been here longer than I have. I thought you knew. They left, or stopped dancing, or chose to have a family, or became Vestals. It’s the way it goes. You have to retire sometime.”
“I’ve been thinking about retirement,” I admitted. “Now that I’m training Chi, I see that my body is not what it used to be. But I’m still young. I don’t want to give up on dancing.”
“Nor I, but we age in our own ways. Dancing takes its toll.”
I nodded, warming to her again, feeling as though the past was not a hindrance to our friendship.
I finished scrubbing my hair and ducked under again, letting the heavy curls pull me down.
When I rose, I brushed water out of my face.
“Verena, I’ve heard rumors that Lead Dancers give their souls to seal the rift.
And the toll it takes isn’t physical exhaustion. It’s death.”
Verena flinched and backed away. Her jaw went tight, mouth working.
I watched her, wondering if she knew, wondering if she’d been two steps ahead of me this entire time and understood what I’d just begun to realize.
“I’ve never heard those rumors,” she said.
“Do you believe them?”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, would I? I’m not the Lead Dancer. You’d be the one to confirm it.”
“I feel it. A heaviness each time I dance. It takes longer and longer to recover.”
“I’m worried about you, Gazelle.” Her voice softened. “You should stop. You keep inventing reasons to go on and reasons to quit. I think the exhaustion is getting into your head. You see enemies where there are none. No one is stealing your soul or forcing you to dance. So. Retire.”
I went quiet because she’d noticed my erratic behavior, and I wondered who else did. So I did what I always did when I was uncomfortable, I changed the topic. “Is Sacred Mother here for the vote?”
“What vote?”
“For the new Rift Mother. I assumed they’d wait until the killer was found, but she’s coming regardless.”
“I don’t think there’ll be a new Rift Mother. Or a vote. Sacred Mother will make those choices now. I assume she’s in the city, meeting with the council to establish power.”
A chill walked through me. I didn’t like an outsider coming to tell us what to do.
Maybe I needed to do more. To take a leadership role and become the next Rift Mother.
I needed to step up instead of hiding, investigating, and finding ways to clear my name.
But it was too late. “Does Sacred Mother have a name? Who is she? Surely, she used to dance here.”
“I’m not sure why you’re interested, but the Hall of Records would have that information. If it’s publicly available.”
I nodded, feigning disinterest while thinking through my day. The rules of my imprisonment in the Sacred Palace weren’t clear. Was it possible for me to walk to the Hall of Records and ask for information about Sacred Mother? If the Warden followed me, so be it.
Something felt wrong in the practice hall.
I started with the others, watching the Veiled Wardens watch us.
That same wrongness crept over me again, and I couldn’t help but think something was missing.
It unsettled me, and I didn’t know what it was.
In the flurry of activity, I slipped away, knowing I should be dancing but taking advantage of the quiet halls to sneak back to my room for the book.
There, I pulled on a cloak, wishing I had a veil to wear. My fingers itched as an idea came to me. What if I were to take their place, steal an outfit so that I could move around the palace, the city even, without being suspected?
I was surprised the idea hadn’t occurred to me before.
Tucking the stolen book under my arm, I made my way down to the laundry.
Voices spilled out of it, Vestals at their work, the irons hissing, the heat rolling up the stairs.
I passed the sewing room, where they sat in a ring, stitching new garments and mending torn ones, letting out hems and taking them in.
That would be my life if I stopped dancing.
Bile rose in my throat. I didn’t want to be like that, sitting in a circle gossiping.
But I paused at the door, listening. They sounded happy, excited to be together, chattering and laughing over the work.
Perhaps they didn’t mind the labor because they did it together, with friends.
Perhaps I had been wrong about the life of the Vestals.
A stack of folded clothes sat in a basket by the door.
I glanced both ways, then quickly bent and rifled through them until I found a veil and a robe.
Stepping into the adjoining room, I pulled them on, my pulse racing at the deception and a mix of something else.
Not fear, but a low thread of excitement, the power of doing something wrong and getting away with it.
Head high, I left the Sacred Palace and made my way to the Hall of Records.
The same Keeper sat at the desk, and when I slid the book across to her, her eyes went wide.
“I found this in the Sacred Palace,” I said low, behind the veil.
“Thank you for returning it.” She drew it to herself. “A dancer came to borrow it, and it went missing soon after. I didn’t want to suspect anyone in such a role would disrespect our customs. But rumor is she’s grown erratic. They say she’s the reason the Sacred Mother is here at all.”
Fury rose, and it was a moment before I bit back my retort, remembering I was in disguise, searching for information. “Is that so?” I choked out. “Things have been strange at the Sacred Palace. What else have you heard?”
“Sacred Mother has come to choose a new Lead Dancer.”
It struck like a blow. I fought to keep my voice level behind the veil. “There is already a Lead Dancer.”
The Keeper backed away, eyes guarded. “That’s only what I’ve heard,” she said.
I realized that turning hostile toward her would not help my cause. I took a deep breath. “What else have you heard? In particular about Rift Mother and the vote?”
“I shouldn’t say. It’s not my place.”
“I won’t tell anyone. It’s hard to get information right now. Speculation is better than nothing.”
She studied the veil, deciding. “I thought you’d be so lucky to know, since you live at the Sacred Palace.”
“It is an honor, but not what you think. Conversations take place behind closed doors. It’s difficult to overhear.”
“The same can be said here. As far as the vote goes, I understand Sacred Mother came to preside over it. Whether there will be one to preside over, I couldn’t say. Has she visited the Sacred Palace yet?”
I shook my head. “Tomorrow will be her first visit.”
The Keeper tilted her head. “I hope it goes well. Now, what can I help you with today? Or did you only come to return the book?”
I pressed my palms together. “I’m curious about the traditions around Rift Mother and Sacred Mother, and how they began.”
The Keeper raised her eyebrows. “Surprised you don’t know.”
I felt the edges of my temper rising. “I’m more interested in the root, the history of how it all began rather than the gossip of today. And do you know anything about demigods?”
She pressed her lips together. “Why would you ask such things?”
“Change is coming. Those with knowledge will make wise choices.” I didn’t know where the words came from, because they didn’t sound like me. But she accepted it.
She beckoned, led me to a private alcove, and returned shortly with one scroll. She hovered in the doorway while I unrolled it, as though she half-suspected me of something, and I read it greedily.
It told of a god who loved a mortal woman.
They had a child—half-mortal, half-god—with magic no mortal had seen, and he was bold enough to walk among men, boast of his gifts, and take whatever he wanted.
Women. Wealth. It was never enough. His children carried his power, and they were mischievous, some of them malicious, and the mortals cried out to the gods.
The gods answered their prayers by creating more demigods.
So, the magic was spread across many. The mortals, more tormented than before, cried out again.
And the gods whispered into the ears of a mortal, telling of a dance, a power, a way to keep the demigods under the mortal thumb.
The story ended there, abruptly, mid-breath. I looked up. “Demigods. Not demons.”
“Are you asking me to interpret the text?”
“I’m asking your opinion. As a Keeper.”
She frowned, pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts.
“Consider the word torment. The mortals were tormented by the demigods, and those who drive us to agony, who make us unhappy, who steal our peace, are often known as demons. As with stories, while the meaning remains, the words shift and change. Perhaps demigods and demons are interchangeable.”
Interchangeable.
My ears rang. The alcove tilted. I forced myself to my feet. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”
I wasn’t sure how I made it out of the Hall of Records or back to the Sacred Palace, with my thoughts reeling.
What if the Hollow King was lord of the demons after all?
What if demigod and demon were the same word, merged by time?
And the dance he’d taught me would not save my city but damn it?
What if, in freeing him, I loosed the very things that had torn my family apart?
I needed help. I needed truth. And the only one who claimed to give it to me was the one person I could no longer be sure of.