Chapter 17
Seventeen
Before the evening meal, I stood in line, waiting to enter the hall. Betta came out, touched my shoulder, and beckoned. I followed her through the twisting halls to a room, her private chambers, I thought. She shut the door and leaned against it. “Where were you?”
“What do you mean?” I breathed.
“This morning, you missed practice. The Warden assigned to guard you couldn’t find you, and someone reported clothing missing from the laundry.
” Her dark eyes held mine. “Your behavior has been inconsistent as of late, Gazelle. I want to help you. I want to keep your name clear, but you’re not helping your cause. ”
“Is Sacred Mother coming here to choose a new Lead Dancer and oversee the vote for Rift Mother? Is my place here being taken away?”
Betta softened. “Oh, Gazelle. Is that what this is about?”
“And what happened to the other Lead Dancers? Why aren’t they here? Is it true they gave their souls to the dance and died young?”
“Gazelle, you know what we do here. Ask questions, but do not doubt. Right now, you are the Lead Dancer. You will dance at the full moon. What happens afterward can be dealt with then. Do not lose your focus making up ideas of who is coming and for what.” Her voice firmed.
“Sacred Mother is coming to the palace to see our progress. We’ve suffered a great devastation.
Rift Mother is gone; by all rights, we should all be grieving, yet we must go on.
You are a leader here. I suggest you act like it and don’t give Sacred Mother any reason to doubt your skills. ”
The tongue-lashing drew me up sharp.
Had I been so focused inward?
I hadn’t once considered how the other dancers might be feeling, how they looked to me for guidance, and I’d ignored everyone.
I’d been selfish. I needed to rectify my actions.
And in the same breath, I realized something discomforting: I didn’t have a friend in Betta.
I couldn’t confide in her. My question about demigods and demons died on my tongue.
I bowed my head. “I will do better.”
“Good.” She gripped my shoulder. “You choose what defines you. Don’t lose yourself now.”
Later, I knelt by my bed, feeling like a shell of myself.
I’d forced myself through the rituals, dinner, checking in on the younger dancers, visiting the pools.
Verena did not approach me, and I ignored her, wading from group to group instead, asking each dancer how they fared, whether the death sat heavy on them, whether I could be of any use.
Every word felt false on my tongue, each nod, every wide-eyed answer only confirmed two things.
One, they were afraid of me. The rumors were true.
Someone was trying to tarnish my reputation.
The second was a question I held close. How could I betray them?
I sat there, clean and dressed, my sheer nightgown clinging to my curves.
Tiredness lingered. I needed to sleep, but it would not come.
Today, I’d found no answers, only frustration and more questions for Airen.
Had he tricked me? Lied to me? Why did I feel different in his presence than I did up here in the light?
My thoughts careened, and since sleep wouldn’t come, I rose and went to the wall, chanting.
Hollow King. Hollow King. Open the way.
The stones shuddered, and the hollows opened, wordless as a whisper. Tossing a shawl around my shoulders, I picked up my candle and carried it into the dark.
Tonight the passageway led me to a bedroom, and my feet sank into carpet. I paused. A creeping sensation came over me.
Airen was dressing. He turned when he saw me and pulled his shirt over his head. “Gazelle.”
His voice was rough yet warm, and something in it shifted everything inside me. Like a lure. I wanted to step forward and be enveloped in his warmth. And that wanting was exactly the thing I had come to fear, that down here I lost myself, my reason, the truths I had held so tightly all my life.
I leaned against the entrance, aware I could turn around and run should I choose. “What’s the difference between a demon and a demigod? Or is there one? They are one and the same, aren’t they?”
He brushed his hair away from his face and moved toward me, slow and deliberate, just like a predator stalking its prey. “What gave you that idea?”
“I went to the Hall of Records and spoke to a Keeper. I read a scroll, the tale of mortals and demigods.”
“Go on.”
“The demigods terrorized the mortals—humans—because they had magic, power. The balance was unfair. So, the mortals prayed to the gods, and they were given a dance, a power over the demigods. The story said nothing about demons.”
“I see. And what proof would satisfy you, knowing that each time I tell you a truth, you go back above and twist it into your own meaning? Must we fight each time? Must I convince you over and over again?”
“I’m not sure what you can give me. I’m not sure I should be here. Every time I come, I feel as though I’m under a spell. You’re using your magic on me, aren’t you?”
“Come,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
I hesitated only a moment, reminding myself that it wasn’t him I feared; it was the truth.
I walked across the plush carpet, trying not to stare too hard at his bedroom—his innermost chamber, his most intimate space.
Where he slept, dressed, and worked. Was this where he had lain all that time, dreaming?
Holding onto memories of a past when he was free?
I wondered how old he was, whether he had lived for hundreds of years, or whether he was as young as I.
There were questions I had not asked him, afraid of the answer, afraid of what it might mean for me.
At the far end, he opened a door and stood in its frame.
Pale blue light spilled from beyond it, a soft hue as though a giant sapphire were breathing.
I moved to slip past him, but he caught me, his hand closing around my throat, walking me back against the doorframe.
He loomed over me, eyes hard, and within them was something like emerald fire, dangerous and bright.
Even though he wasn’t squeezing hard enough to cut off my air, it felt as though I were suffocating, like I couldn’t breathe.
He leaned close, molding his body against mine, lips feathering my ear.
“Dare you come to my kingdom, dressed like that, as though you mean to seduce me? You come, and you question everything I’ve built.
I’ve given you nothing but the truth, yet it isn’t good enough for you, is it?
You gave me your word. Now I sense you going back on it, not once, not twice, but thrice.
A bargain is a bargain, yet you question every motive, as if I’m not the one trying to save your life.
” His breath was hot against my skin. “You’re making it difficult for me to keep my temper in check, and you don’t want me to lose my temper. ”
How did he do that every time? Make me feel so weak, yet so strong?
As though I’d come to seduce him. I looked down, realizing the state of my white nightgown against my brown skin.
The material was sheer. I’d just come from bathing and hadn’t bothered to put on any undergarments.
Even with my shawl, I was suddenly aware of how much he must be able to see.
Especially up close. Especially like this.
One of his hands found my hips and gripped hard enough to bruise, as if it were the only thing keeping him from taking more. And it struck me, truly struck me, how much Airen might want me. It took every shred of will to lift my chin while his fingers slid lower, to the hollow of my throat.
“I dressed for bed,” I whispered. “I didn’t intend to dance; I didn’t intend to come at all. But I made a promise, and you are the only one giving me answers.” I held his gaze, feeling defiance rise. “Or pretending to.”
His thumb pressed harder, and I felt the growl that vibrated through his body.
Ignoring it, I went on. “I received some bad news today. Sacred Mother is coming to the palace. Tomorrow. She intends to find my replacement.”
His expression did not change. “And would that be so bad?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “It’s been my entire life. Without the dance, who am I?”
His hands left me, and he stepped out of the room into the pale blue light. “That, you’ll have to answer for yourself. It’s a sorry thing to build an entire life around the idea of one thing. I’d call it an obsession.”
“It’s what I was raised to do,” I protested, following him. “Trained to do my entire life. I don’t know another life without dancing.”
“Perhaps because you’re only focused on yourself and your accomplishments. Have you paused, for one moment, to look around?”
That surge of anger came again. “You’re like the others. They all think me selfish. Crazy. They think something is wrong with me. Some of them believe I killed those women.”
“And did you?” His voice dropped low. “Did you fall into a fit, hear that it was time to retire, time to be replaced, and slay those who might oppose you? Remove you? Did you commit the sin, and are now finding a way to absolve yourself of the guilt by seeking another murderer?”
“No!” I shouted. “No. It wasn’t me. I was here, in the dark that night. With you.”
“Were you? I wasn’t with you that night for more than a few moments before you ran away. I can account for your time here, with me, but not up there.”
“What are you trying to do to me? Confuse me? To make me distrust my own thoughts?”