Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
Iwoke in the Healing Hall, my shoulder bandaged, and the pain dulled to a deep throb.
A healer sat on a chair nearby, rolling bandages.
She startled when I opened my eyes and stood.
She was tall, with long eyelashes and dressed in pure white.
I thought it was a terrible choice for a healer, who had to deal with blood and grime that would ruin the color.
“You’re awake, praise be,” she murmured.
She hovered over me, pressing a hand to my forehead, then reaching for a glass. “You must be thirsty.”
“What happened?” My voice was dry, my throat raspy.
“They shot you, dear.”
“After.” I pressed. “Did anything—” I took a breath. “Happen?”
The healer shook her head, giving me a patient, patronizing smile. “Don’t fret about it. I wasn’t there, but I heard another dancer tried to finish the ritual, and it didn’t work.”
It didn’t work.
I caught the edges of her white robe. “What else?”
“That was all. Now the Wardens are guarding the rift, just in case. But don’t worry about it; everything will be fine. It’s important that you rest and heal.”
“So that I can dance again. Next full moon.”
Her eyes shifted away. “Sacred Mother will decide who dances. She’ll want to see you—but you should drink this first and focus on regaining your strength. I daresay your shoulder will take time to mend.”
She slid a hand under my head and propped me up, allowing me to take sips of the liquid until it was gone.
It was only as I lay back that her words caught up to me. Tears sprang to my eyes as I glanced at my shoulder. When I wiggled my fingers, pain shot through me. I would have to recover, then learn how to use my arm again. Could I dance with a stiff shoulder, a half-ruined arm?
I glanced at the healer as she left the room, and a surge of longing came over me.
I needed to find out what had happened. I wasn’t sure what I expected.
The rift to break open? The ground to shake, and the demigods storming up into the moonlight?
But what if it hadn’t worked? I’d never finished the dance, and the seal had only been weakened.
What if it hadn’t been enough, and I’d lost my chance to free the Hollow King? And to dance?
The one thing I loved had been torn away from me. Worst of all, it had been my decision. My fault. I’d known the risks and had done it anyway.
Verena was the first to visit me. I didn’t see her come in, only surfaced through the haze of medicine and found her sitting beside me.
I pushed upright and managed to lift my head without causing too much pain.
Her eyes were dark, red-rimmed, and she kept clenching her fists as she sat, shoulders drooping as though she were utterly bone-weary.
“Why did you do it?” she hissed. “Why did you change the dance? I know it wasn’t a mistake. This time you did it on purpose.”
I held her gaze. My long-time friend. Should I trust her with the truth?
“Because the ritual is a lie,” I offered.
She flinched but didn’t protest.
“It’s a trap meant to drain the souls of the dancers.”
She pressed her hands together, shaking her head. “It is sacrifice, that much is true.”
“It’s not noble,” I interrupted. “And we didn’t know. We weren’t willing.”
Verena’s nostrils flared. And still she didn’t correct me, didn’t object.
I watched her sit in silence, and an icy chill went through me. “Did you know?” I asked. “Did you know that all Lead Dancers give their souls to the rift? That they die young, dancing to protect a lie? That they all come from my bloodline, and without me, the ritual ends.”
Verena leaped to her feet and started pacing, hands shaking. “I thought…I knew something was wrong. After they shot you to get you to stop, Chi, who you’ve been training, moved to dance. But it was as though the air had gone dead, and the gods rejected her dance.”
“Did anything else happen?” I breathed. Hating being trapped in the room, hating not knowing what had happened to the Hollow King or the Hollow Ones.
Verena shook her head. “Not that I recall.”
“Has anything odd happened?” I pressed.
“It’s been quiet. The Wardens are in the tunnels, guarding the rift. There haven’t been any incidents.”
I closed my eyes briefly, wondering what it meant. Desperate to find out. A half-torn seam. A weakened seal. Something had changed in the world, but I didn’t understand what. How come the demons hadn’t appeared? How come the Hollow Ones hadn’t made their presence known?
“Verena, will you help me?”
She sat back down, still restless, one knee bouncing. “Are you being honest with me at last?”
“Are you?” I retorted. “You know more than you’ve shared with me.”
“I’ve had my suspicions, but the Sacred Palace is full of political maneuvering and backstabbing. And now that Sacred Mother has come and taken up her place in the palace, everything is worse. I’m concerned…”
“Did she name herself Rift Mother?”
Verena nodded.
“And what about the murderer? The execution?”
“In light of what happened at the ritual, they held off.”
“Do you know who the murderer is?”
Verena frowned. “I’ve been trying to find out. Seems that no one knows, and there’s no one in the dungeons.”
No prisoner or killer produced. A promised execution and an empty cell in the Sacred Palace. I studied Verena, willing myself to take a chance. “Do you think Sacred Mother is behind all of this?”
Verena stiffened. “What makes you say that? One should not speak badly of our elders.”
“She frightens me. There’s something wrong with her, something that’s not quite human.” I looked her in the eye, hoping she’d believe me. “Do you recall the day she first came to practice?”
A flash of anger crossed her face. “Of course. You had a private session with her.”
I hesitated, surprised by the heat of her anger. But perhaps that was the old jealousy, still there, lingering. Because I’d been chosen and she hadn’t. “She drugged me, Verena.”
Her nostrils flared. “Gazelle, you’ve always been slightly dramatic, but this is too much. To accuse Sacred Mother of such a sin—”
“It’s true,” I protested. “She forced me to dance, over and over again until I couldn’t walk.
Then she gave me a drink of something vile that made me numb.
It was only then I could finish, and then she told me terrible things.
About how the dance rips the soul away, how it gives her immortal life, and she came because I’m the last one. ”
Verena stood. “Gazelle, it’s clear that you’re unwell.
I can’t sit here and listen to these ravings, these lies.
I’ve been concerned about your health, and now it’s clear.
You’re deranged, going mad. I think all of this has gotten to you.
You need to rest, to heal. Don’t worry about us, just focus on getting better. ”
“Wait—” I cried out, realizing my mistake. I shouldn’t have trusted her with the truth. “Verena, come back. It’s just…everything has been taken from me. I can’t dance anymore, not until my shoulder heals.”
She walked toward the doorway. The candlelight caught her face, as though she were blurring into the shadows. “Perhaps it’s for the best, Gazelle. It’s time to retire.”