by P B Hughes
Gregory took Martha by the hand and followed. “If it’s a competition you want, then we’re in.”
“Gregory,” said Martha, eyes wide with panic as he pulled her toward the dance floor, “we should really learn all the steps first!”
Ari flashed Daniel a brilliant smile and linked arms with him. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s put Nera in her place, shall we?”
Daniel pulled away. “Ari,” he said, “I need to tell you something.”
She looked at him expectantly, her smile wavering.
“I—” The students took their positions “—I don’t know how to dance.”
Ari laughed. “Oh, Daniel, stop it.”
“I mean it, Ari. I never learned how. I didn’t want you to know because—”
“But you said you knew how. You told me you did.”
“I know. But I—”
“You lied to me.”
Daniel closed his eyes and placed his fist against his forehead. The music began to play. “Sure—yes, I lied. It was just a lot to take in during the moment and I…I just didn’t know what say.”
“How about the truth?” She looked like she’d been kicked in the stomach—eyes scrunched, brow creased.
“Ari,” said Daniel, “I’m sorry—really. But it was a small lie. I was just embarrassed, that’s all.”
Daniel reached out to touch her hand and Ari recoiled as if bitten by a dog.
“Caden told me small lies,” she said hotly. “He taught he something about people who tell small lies: they really lie about everything.” She snatched her purse off the table and stormed away into the crowd of students.
Daniel watched, dumbstruck as she made her way onto the dance floor. Painful jealousy filled his veins; she was heading toward Marcus. Ari tapped the cadet on the shoulder. Marcus turned, and when he saw her, he immediately pulled free from Elenora.
A quick glance at Daniel, a devious smile, a kiss on her hand.
Marcus was not just a good dancer, he was excellent. He and Ari sailed across the floor with perfect precision and poise, drawing cheers from the other dancers. Defeated and delirious with a heartache he’d never felt before, Daniel withered into his seat, alone.
Hours passed and the night wore on. Gregory and Martha came by a few times, encouraging Daniel to try to dance, but he held his seat stubbornly.
And then, when the clock neared eleven, Nera made for him. Her golden gown shimmered as she walked and her hair was brushed and shiny. Short of breath, flushed, and smiling, she looked like she was having the time of her life.
“Mind if I take a seat?” she asked.
Daniel shrugged.
She collapsed into the chair. “It’s a beautiful night, don’t you think?”
“I suppose,” Daniel replied. As far as he was concerned it was the ugliest night he’d ever seen. “Where’s Jelani?”
“He went for a walk. Crowds drain him.”
They watched the dance floor for a moment in silence; Daniel wished she would leave him to sulk in peace.
“Listen, Daniel, I feel like I owe you an apology. It’s my fault you’re here. I know you didn’t want to come.”
“It’s not your fault,” said Daniel. “If I didn’t want to come I wouldn’t be here. Jude didn’t want to, and no one forced him. The truth is, I hardly understand the concept of a ball, much less how to dance. I should have said something.”
Nera patted Daniel on his knee. “You see, that’s the problem with lying. If you had just told the truth, then we could have taught you to dance before the ball like we did with Gregory. But you told us you already knew how, so…you know.”
Daniel’s ears burned red. He had thought of that, but he had dug the hole too deep to admit his fault. “I’m sorry I lied—truly I am. I’ve created a mess. Now Ari won’t even speak to me.”
Nera placed her hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “She has trouble trusting, you know,” she said. “Ever since Caden. But she did tell me that you’re one of the few people she can depend on. So I think it shook her up a bit when you deceived her. But she’ll get over it; I think she just needs to learn that you’re not perfect.”
Daniel had shattered her trust; it all made sense now. And, to him, feeling as though he had let her down was more painful than any jealousy he had experienced during the night. His eyes wandered the dance floor, searching for Ari. He couldn’t find her. But he did find Marcus who was standing in the corner, taking a verbal beating from a red-faced Elenora. Streaks of mascara ran down her cheeks, and occasionally she would stamp her foot and shout something like, “What do you mean, you just want to be friends? And what about her, do you just want to be friends with her?”
“I wonder if they’ll invite us to the wedding,” whispered Nera.
Daniel couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. Finally, he spotted Ari sitting alone at a table across the room.
“You should tell her how you feel,” said Nera suddenly.
Daniel looked at her, feeling exposed. “Tell her what?”
Nera stood up and smoothed out her dress. “I don’t think I need to say it out loud, do you?”
Daniel stared at the floor.
“If you don’t tell her, it’s going to eat you alive and you’re going to keep acting weird.” She stepped toward the dance floor and then paused. “For what it’s worth, Daniel, I think you’re a really good guy. She’d be foolish to reject you.”
Daniel slumped down in his chair. He waited there a long time, wrestling with Nera’s words. Finally, he could take it no more. He jumped up and made his way around the dance floor to where Ari was sitting.
“Ari?” he said.
She looked at him and then quickly turned her nose in the air. “I have nothing to say to you, Daniel Hart.”
“Ari, please. Just five minutes, that’s all I need.”
Slowly, she met his gaze.
“Could we go somewhere private?” Daniel asked. “The balcony?”
Ari nodded.
Together, they made their way outside. They walked over to the edge of the sprawling balcony and stared out across the ocean, the water shimmering like silver. The air felt warm with salty mist, and a gentle breeze brushed across Daniel’s skin. It was a perfect night—the waves crashing softly and the orb-like moon high above.
Ari looked so beautiful, her hair dancing in the gentle wind, her body perfectly framed by her dress. She met his gaze and his throat constricted.
“Ari,” Daniel said. “I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” she replied.
“I’m sorry…for breaking your trust. It was wrong of me to tell you I knew how to dance when I didn’t. I was just so caught up with worry over what you would think of me if you knew the truth. I’m an orphan, Ari. I don’t know anything about how to set a table or hold a fork or which glass to use, much less how to dance or how to be a proper gentleman.”
Ari stared at him with such intensity he had to lower his eyes.
“And I know you probably want someone who knows all of those things,” he continued. “Someone in your same social class who’s grand and stately. Someone who owns a mansion and horses and can give you diamond rings.” Daniel willed himself to look at her. “And Ari, I know I probably don’t stand a chance, but I care for you. And I want to be more than just friends.”
“Daniel,” said Ari. “Daniel I…” She turned and stared out across the ocean. “I care for you. Truly I do. You’re the kindest boy I’ve ever met with a heart as pure as gold. Even though you deceived me I know it’s because you care. And you confessed and apologized, so I shouldn’t neglect the importance of that. But Daniel…”
Daniel knew what was coming. His greatest fears were being realized.
“My family. It just—it just wouldn’t work. My mother would never approve.”
Daniel gripped the railing of the balcony. “So your mother wouldn’t approve. But do you?”
Ari opened her mouth, searchi
ng for the words. “I…I care for you Daniel…Just not in that way. I’m sorry.”
Daniel left her there. He stalked back into the dance hall and flew out the front door. It wasn’t very gentlemanly to leave his date at the ball, but he didn’t care. He had to get out of there, and even though the school was several miles away, he was glad for the distance; he needed to clear his head.
On the walk home he wished he had told her of his origins—that he was the Emperor. She might feel differently once she realized he was royalty. Yes, she had just rejected the highest member of society; she should feel humiliated, not him!
But he couldn’t do it. No one could know his origins. It didn’t matter what blood pumped through him. He knew nothing of how to be royalty, and he knew he’d only look like a bigger oaf if he tried to be something he wasn’t.
They hadn’t spoken of it since, but Daniel found it more difficult than ever to be around her. He was wounded in a way that would not seem to heal—his pride; his heart. But he was glad he had an answer. There was no more questioning. She did not care for him the way he cared for her.
There’s no use pining for her, he told himself as he stared at his reflection in his dormitory mirror, now distant and glum. Besides, I’ve got far more important things to worry about.
“Jude,” he said, trying to turn to a more distracting subject, “what do you think they’re aiming at, sending us South?”
Jude did not respond. Daniel glanced over to the bed in which he lay. The covers were pulled over Jude’s head and they rose and fell with steady breathing. Daniel let out a sigh. He climbed into his own bed, slipped beneath the blankets and closed his eyes.
Chapter 5
“No—leave me alone…”
Jude’s nightmares had begun.
A chill of terror washed over Daniel, like a thousand spiders slowly creeping across his skin. He did not want to move. It was as if something oppressively evil was eying him, daring him to awaken. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t, for if he acknowledged the creatures’ existence then it would be made real.
“Go away,” said Jude.
Daniel folded his pillow over his ears, muffling the sound. Every night it was the same. Jude had this conversation with whomever or whatever was inside his dreams, and the figment would not release him until dawn’s first light.
“Home. Must come home…”
That caught Daniel’s attention. Never before had Jude mentioned going home. Now he was fully awake, focusing in on Jude’s every word.
“The power. I can feel it…I need it…”
The conversation had changed, and to Daniel’s horror he realized this was not a conversation within Jude’s own head. He was speaking to someone real.
“Yes…Come home. It’s time to come home…”
The creak of a hinge—a chilly breeze filled the room. Daniel rolled over to see Jude standing before the open window.
“Jude, what are you—”
His breath caught in his throat. There, in front of Jude, stood the haunting figure of a woman, her silver head gleaming as the moon cast its light upon her. She met Daniel’s gaze and hissed.
Daniel threw the covers off, snatched his staff from beside his bed and hurtled across the room. His eyes flashed as he rushed to the window. The woman did not tarry, but fled like a vapor in the wind.
“Jude!” Daniel shook his friend, but he did not budge.
With gritted teeth Daniel leapt out onto the roof. He looked left, then right. There at the edge of the drop was the woman, her long black robes billowing in the wind.
Daniel readied himself for combat, the end of his staff casting a blue shimmer across the rooftop. “Why have you come here?”
She glowered at Daniel with eyes of polished coal and smiled maniacally. “You already know.”
“You can’t have him! Prepare to be arrested in the name of the Guardians of the Empire.”
“You cannot protect him forever, Guardian,” she cried. “He is marked. He belongs with us!”
Daniel charged forward, staff outstretched, rage pounding in his temples. He didn’t know what mark she spoke of, but he was going to find out.
An inky black tendril rose from behind her like a scorpion’s tail.
With blinding speed, she struck at Daniel—he dodged as the tendril splintered the rooftop in an explosion of wood and shingles. Again she struck—a sharp pain shot through Daniel as she punctured his thigh. He cried out in agony, clasping his wound as blood spurt forth like a geyser.
She retracted the tendril and laughed.
“So weak,” she said, amused. “I thought you’d at least put up some resistance.”
She sent the tendril slicing through the air to deliver the killing blow to Daniel’s neck. An inch from its target, the tendril froze, interlocked with one of Jude’s green vines.
A second later Jude was at Daniel’s side, his own staff aimed at the woman. “Looking for me?”
The woman snarled and dashed up the roof, disappearing over the crest.
“Who was that?” asked Jude frantically.
“I don’t know,” Daniel heaved as he released a spray of healing mist over his wound. The bleeding stopped as his flesh wove itself back together. “But I’m going to capture her.” He jumped to his feet and clambered up the shingles, Jude at his heels.
Just before they reached the tip of the roof, the woman rose up before them, hovering, enveloped inside a dark cloud that covered all but her head and shoulders, violet light flickering like lighting within. She let out a shriek that pierced the night sky. Tar-like tendrils burst out from inside the cloud as swift as slashing whips.
The two boys rolled to either side as the tendrils crashed against the rooftop. Daniel jumped to his feet and thrust his staff forward, shooting a blast of ice. She swerved just as the ice glanced off her shoulder. The woman’s wrath was palpable—she turned on Daniel, the black squid-arms speeding toward him. He quickly froze his left arm in a shield of ice and leaned forward to meet the blows. They battered him backward to the very edge of the building. Daniel felt a jolt of panic as a crack ran up the middle of his shield. It shattered like glass, knocking him over the eave. Just before he hit the ground he stopped, a vine wrapped tightly around his ankle.
Jude! Daniel thought, his head spinning.
Above, Jude fled, dodging to the left and right as her tendrils sought him. He tossed a fistful of seeds to his feet. There was a low rumble—the roof burst into a forest of small trees, bushes, and slithering vines, spreading and growing larger and larger. The vines whipped up and around Jude’s waist, elevating him to face the specter of darkness.
“Two can play this game,” he cried, waving his hand as his army of vines and branches shot toward her.
It was his vines against her tendrils, interlocking, snapping, cracking, and whirring through the air. Jude took a hit across his shoulder, and then slashed her in rebuttal.
Daniel wriggled free from Jude’s vine and fell on his head. He stood, dizzy for a moment but quickly regained his composure. Overhead, Jude was in plain sight, but the woman spun about the air, ducking behind the roof and then out again. Daniel cursed, tucked his staff under his arm, and grabbed hold of Jude’s vine that dangled from the eaves. Hand over hand he climbed, pulling himself back onto the top of the building. The woman battled so intensely with Jude she did not see Daniel heave himself over the edge. He stood, dug in his toes and leapt forward.
A beam of ice exploded from the orb of Daniel’s staff. His aim was true—the ice caught the woman across her midriff. The dark cloud and tendrils evaporated and she fell to the roof, rolled, and dropped, ice shattering against the earth. Jude sent a vine around Daniel and sped them to the ground. Before the woman could stand, Daniel shot another bolt of ice at her, freezing her in place.
“Who are you—what do you want with us?” cried Daniel as they ran to her. He felt weak—he was nearly out of energy.
By then, there was a light in nearly every dormito
ry window. Terrified shouts came from inside the building. Several students had come outside, though they did not venture farther than the front steps.
It was only when they drew near that Daniel finally recognized the woman. It was Lady Lugat, Bartholomew Burke’s assistant.
“Release me,” she hissed, a trickle of dark blood running out her mouth and down her chin. Her silver hair was wrapped wildly about her face, and her black eyes peered up at them with hatred.
“Lady Lugat?” asked Daniel. “What are you doing here?”
Jude pointed his staff in her face. “Don’t think I won’t kill you right here and now. Tell us why you’ve come here and what power you possess!”
Suddenly, her hatred boiled away into mirth. She began to laugh, a long, eerie laugh that rang out into the night. “You know as well as I do.”
Jude went white.
“What are you talking about?” asked Daniel. “Stop speaking in riddles.”
“His patience won’t last forever,” she said, looking at Jude. “Soon you will have to choose.”
“Choose what?” Daniel cried.
She smiled up at them. Then, her eyes rolled back in her head and she let out a wail. “Nahash, vut etengard!” she cried. The ice encasing her shattered in a shockwave of dark energy, hurling them backward. For a moment, all Daniel could see was a dense fog in front of his eyes. An instant later, it vanished, and Lady Lugat was gone.
Chapter 6
Ari opened her eyes and gaped into the darkness of the dormitory, trying to orient herself. She turned over and stared up at the ceiling. Her stomach was tight with fear, though she did not understand why.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.
The sporadic noise pounded across the rooftop overhead.
Hammer blows? she thought. No, too fast—footsteps.
A creaking tremor passed through the walls of her dormitory room. She instinctively reached for her staff.
“Nera,” she said in a low voice.
Nera lay in the bed next to her with a pillow over her head and did not stir.