“I’ll meet you there,” Vanessa muttered back. “I’m going to the dining hall first.”
Steffie gave her an inquisitive look.
“The waffle machines,” Vanessa said cryptically. A handful of fire extinguishers were stacked beneath the waffle makers. “If we burn down your room, they’ll definitely be onto us.”
“Good idea,” Steffie said. Vanessa could see the outline of the book through her bag.
“See you then,” Vanessa said.
“See you.”
While the rest of the dancers walked through the double doors, their laughter fading into the November dusk, Vanessa snuck down the empty hall. But when she turned the corner, she bumped, headfirst, into someone.
“Watch where you’re going,” she said, when she felt a hand close around hers.
Justin pulled her toward him, pressing her against his chest. He squinted at the amber residue on her fingers, his dark eyes flickering as he understood. His nose flared slightly at the bitter scent of grease and smoke. Vanessa tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he was strong. That much she remembered from dancing with him.
With a swift movement, he pried the block of rosin from her hand.
“I thought I heard someone in there,” Justin said. Like Vanessa and Steffie, he too was dressed entirely in black. “I’ll admit, I’m relieved. I thought it was someone … else.”
“Let me go,” Vanessa said defiantly, glancing up at him over her shoulder.
“No,” Justin whispered in her ear, his hair tickling her neck. “It’s time to let you in on what’s going on.”
“I’m not going anywhere—” Vanessa began to shout, but Justin clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling her voice. Her eyes darted around the building, hoping someone would see her, but the hallways were empty and the studio doors were shut. She tried to will her body to stop shaking. How could she have been so stupid?
Justin tightened his grip on her mouth until she could taste the salt on his skin. “I’m sorry I can’t be more gentle. But you’re giving me no choice. I don’t care if you don’t trust me or don’t want to believe me. This time, you’re going to hear me out.”
He pulled her down the hall and into a coat closet, shutting the door behind them. Once there, he removed his hand from her mouth.
“What are you doing?” Vanessa cried. “What do you want from me?”
A lone lightbulb hung in the middle of the room. Justin turned it on and stood in front of the door, blocking her way.
“Let me out!” she cried. “Let me out or I’ll scream!”
But Justin ignored her protests. “Josef isn’t training you to dance The Firebird. He’s training you in a ritualistic dance. A dance of the occult.”
Vanessa went quiet. “What?”
“The Firebird is just a foil. La Danse du Feu that you rehearse every afternoon? That’s not an extra scene. It’s a ritual dance that opens up a portal to another world. That’s why it was never performed in the original productions, or any production since. Because it’s more than just a finale. It’s a final dance.”
Vanessa let out a nervous laugh. “A portal?”
Justin’s expression was steady, grave. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. I’ve been following Josef for a long time.” He held up the rosin he had pried from Vanessa’s fist. “Earlier this year I did exactly what you did. I hid in his office and watched him use this bizarre rosin to read an ancient book about ritualistic dance. Since then, I’ve been going back as much as I can. The books in his library are written in some sort of ancient invisible ink. The only way they can be read is through the light of a rosin torch. I don’t know what the ink is or where it came from—no one does, and no one has been able to re-create it for centuries. Possibly it involves an extradimensional element.”
Vanessa pressed her hand to her head, trying to understand everything Justin was telling her. Ancient books about occult dancing, mystic invisible ink protecting their secrets. Thirteen dancers, Justin had read into the recorder. Plus one more. The conjunction of the planets. The thirteenth of December. After Zep’s role ended halfway through La Danse du Feu, there were thirteen ballerinas plus one more.
Vanessa.
It was true that Josef had been making them practice the strange dance far more frequently than the other scenes from The Firebird. She thought back to her encounter with Helen at the entrance to Central Park. The right steps with the right dancer can wreak havoc, Helen had warned. Could Justin be telling her the truth?
Vanessa opened her eyes, still skeptical. “So this book says that the dance opens up a portal to another world? That’s why Josef is making us perform the supposedly missing dance from The Firebird?”
Justin relaxed, seemingly relieved that she was still listening. “Yes.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Why?”
“According to myth, if the dance is done correctly, with the right dancer, a spirit will pass through the portal.”
“What do you mean? Like—like a ghost? Of someone who died?” Was that why the white figures had come to life when Vanessa danced? Why the figure who looked so strikingly similar to Margaret had approached her? Had Vanessa summoned it?
“No,” Justin said. “Not a ghost. An evil spirit.” He hesitated, lowering his head, his eyes dark. “A demon.”
Vanessa went rigid. Could Justin really believe what he was telling her? “No,” she said. “Demons aren’t real. That’s just—they’re not.”
“But ghosts are?” Justin said. “You don’t have to believe me. Just look at the facts. There are a whole slew of choreographers who have dabbled with the occult over the years. Josef isn’t the first person to attempt this, only the most recent. It’s been tried, for the most part unsuccessfully, countless times throughout history. Josef is closer than anyone has come in a long time.”
“Unsuccessfully? So isn’t that just a dance, then? If nothing happens?”
“Not quite,” Justin said. “I think you’ve gotten a taste of what it feels like at first.”
Vanessa shook her head. “What do you mean?”
“When the right dancers achieve a sublime execution of the right dance, it thins the walls between worlds. It blurs reality. The walls start to spin. The ground tips until it’s no longer level. Light bends in odd ways, and colors seem to dull. Time slows until this world isn’t real anymore.”
He paused, watching Vanessa’s face. She thought of all those times when she had gotten the dance nearly perfect, remembered how her body felt when it moved in tandem with nature.
“I think you know what I’m talking about,” Justin repeated softly.
Vanessa swallowed, unable to meet his eye. The closet suddenly felt incredibly intimate.
“When that happens with all of the dancers, an opening is formed between this world and the next. The ring of thirteen dancers acts as the perimeter of the portal. And the final dancer—the principal ballerina—becomes the demon’s host. When it’s called forth, it pulses through her limbs, inhabiting her body as she dances and devouring her soul. That’s how it comes to this world.”
Vanessa couldn’t speak. Only one word rang in her head. Margaret.
She had been the principal ballerina, the Firebird, the same role as Vanessa. Did that mean that Margaret was the fourteenth dancer? Had she tried to summon a demon? Had her soul been devoured? Is that why she disappeared?
As if reading her thoughts, Justin stepped closer. “But legend has it that a demon has only been called forth four times in history, all centuries ago. None of those times were by Josef.”
“How do you know?”
“According to lore, those four times, when the demons were released on the world, complete chaos ensued: massacres, plagues, widespread death and suffering. Reports of villages becoming possessed, of men losing their minds and destroying entire towns. None of that is happening now, is it?”
Vanessa shuddered at the cold edge in Justin’s voice. “If it’s so destr
uctive, then why does Josef want to do it?”
“Because if it’s done with the right dancer, the demon can be controlled. Can you imagine harnessing that kind of power? Instead of destroying things, you could … command people. Lead armies. All that crazy business.”
“I don’t understand,” she said hesitantly. “What happens to the dancers if it’s unsuccessful? If the demon doesn’t pass through?”
“They become … stuck,” Justin said. “In between worlds. Not here, not there.”
The luminous white figures danced through Vanessa’s mind, and suddenly she realized that she already knew the answer. The white figures on the wall, the burned spots, the ashes in the center of the room, directly on top of where the principal ballerina was supposed to finish. She remembered what Helen had said: someone was trying to put her in the walls. Then she remembered the figure that looked like Margaret, her blood-curdling scream as she burst into flame. That was what had happened to her.
“So she’s still alive?” Vanessa said. “Margaret?”
Justin bowed his head. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Vanessa asked. “So where is she? What happened to her?”
“I don’t know,” Justin repeated. “All I know is that it wasn’t successful.” He looked suddenly somber. “None of Josef’s attempts were.”
Vanessa studied him. “Chloë,” she suddenly realized. “This summer. The senior girls. The sunburns.”
“Those burns weren’t from the sun,” Justin said. “And the date you heard me reading? That was just one out of a list of many others. They mark the dates when the portal is ripest for opening. The last one was in August, when Josef called a preseason rehearsal.”
“So you’re saying all those girls were there when it happened to Chloë?” Vanessa said. “And they’re all choosing to take part in it again?”
“I’m not sure it’s their choice. Josef might be forcing them into it. There are dark magics that can control minds.”
“But how? Why? Chloë was their friend. Why wouldn’t they tell someone? It doesn’t make any sense.” Vanessa eyed him suspiciously. “How are you so sure it hasn’t worked any of those times? Maybe the dance worked with Chloë and my sister, and they’re still alive somewhere.”
“They might be alive,” Justin said. “But their dances didn’t succeed. Think about it. If Josef had already called forth a demon, then why would he be training you to perform another Danse du Feu?”
“Me,” Vanessa repeated. She could almost feel the way her limbs grew taut, as if everything inside were bending and buckling. The way the ribbons seemed to tighten around her ankles. The way her chest heaved with heat, with passion, as if everything inside were coming to a boil. Could that have been … ?
“Yes,” Justin said. “You. Josef chose you because you’re the strongest dancer he—or anyone else—has seen in a long time. You aren’t delicate like most ballerinas. He knows you have the strength to finish the dance, to call forth the demon, to let it inhabit you. That’s why he’s been training you so intensely. Why he gets so upset when you can’t finish.”
All Vanessa wanted to do was run, as far away from the school as possible. “But why?” she asked again. “Why does Josef want it so badly?”
“Because when demons are brought to this world, they serve the one who called them. There are only two people who fill that title. The first is the demon’s master, the choreographer. When the demon is brought forth, it will be forced to pledge its allegiance to Josef. It will do whatever he asks, in exchange for its eventual freedom.”
“And who is the second person?” Vanessa asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.
“The dancer. She is the most powerful thing in the room.”
“You pulled me in here to tell me that I’m doomed? That my sister is stuck in some in-between world, and Josef is training me to call forth a demon?” Vanessa pressed her hands to her temples, her head throbbing. “Even if you are telling the truth, you aren’t trying to help me. You’re trying to use me, just like everyone else.”
“I’m not—” Justin started to say, but Vanessa cut him off.
“Why should I believe you or even listen to you after all of the things you’ve done to me?”
“It’s true I was trying to mess you up in rehearsal the other day. I guess I hoped I could make Josef change his mind about you … I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Vanessa said.
A single bead of sweat slid down Justin’s temple. “I didn’t know if I could trust you. Your sister had been involved in La Danse du Feu before she disappeared, and then you show up and Josef is immediately enamored with you. You land the lead role as a freshman—a freshman—just like your sister. What if you were somehow … in on it?
“Josef is more powerful than you realize. If I’m right, then he’s somehow been able to coerce a dozen dancers over the past two decades to help him call forth the demon. Every year or two he’ll trick a lead ballerina into helping him, and when that fails and she disappears, he waits a while so as not to draw attention to himself, and then tries again. That includes your sister.” He paused for emphasis. “And Anna Franko and the other girls? He somehow makes them do it, even though they watched their friend Chloë go up in flames. It’s like their brains are fogged. Josef has ways of making people do things against their will.”
Vanessa’s heart raced at the mention of her sister. Had Margaret gone along with it and met the same fate as Chloë? What about Elly?
“That’s why I followed you,” Justin continued. “That’s why I kept such a close watch on you.”
It all made a sort of twisted sense, but something about the tone of Justin’s voice made Vanessa want to scream. “I’m not a child,” she said. “You think it’s okay to follow people around the streets of New York at night? To show up at odd hours at their door and deliver cryptic messages? Do you have any idea how that made me feel? I thought I was losing my mind.”
Her words took Justin by surprise, and he shrank back. “I—I’m sorry,” he said. “I was only trying to help.”
“What about the rumors you were spreading about Zep? The things you told Anna? You gave her a bouquet of flowers and told her to leave school. Were you trying to help then too?”
“Those flowers weren’t for her,” he said defensively. “They were for Chloë. I told her what I’d learned. And yes, what I told her that night was meant to help. Just like the things I told you about Zep.”
“What do you know about Zep?” she said. “Why is he so dangerous?”
Justin hesitated. “Are you still seeing him?”
“Yes,” Vanessa said, relieved that she could finally say it with certainty.
“And you think he’s trustworthy?”
Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I do trust Zep. He’s never done anything to make me think I shouldn’t. But you—you sneak around like a coward; you spread lies that you have no way of proving, and you think you’re some sort of hero? For all I know, you could be the one responsible for my sister’s disappearance. Maybe that’s why you left school three years ago. You wanted to lie low until the scandal went away, until you could come back to NYBA without any suspicion.”
Justin snorted. “You’re not listening. Me, responsible for the disappearance of your sister?” He stepped toward her, leaving the door unguarded. “No. That was Josef.”
She didn’t dare look back. She dashed past him, out of the closet and into the empty hallway. The cold air harsh against her lungs, Vanessa ran across the courtyard toward the dormitory, bounding up the stairs and bursting through Steffie’s door without knocking for the second time that afternoon.
“Oh,” Steffie said, clutching her chest. “Vanessa. It’s you.”
Vanessa locked the door behind her and collapsed on the bed.
“What took you so long?” Steffie said. “And where’s the fire extinguisher?”
Once she had caught her breat
h, Vanessa told her everything. How Justin had trapped her. The ritual dance. The portal. The sacrificial host, the principal ballerina. The demon. And Josef, its master. Steffie listened quietly.
“I—I don’t know what to believe,” Vanessa stammered. “It makes sense, but then it doesn’t. I mean, it’s insane, right?”
Steffie hesitated, her lips pursed as if she didn’t think it was insane at all. “Maybe we should see for ourselves,” she said finally, and picked up the book from Josef’s library. She opened it to the first page and set it on the bed. The paper was thick and yellowed, with no trace of any writing. The only visible marks were the oily smudges of fingerprints on the edge of the page.
“Rosin?” she said, holding out her hand.
Vanessa went stiff. She didn’t have the rosin anymore. “Justin took it.”
“What?” Steffie said. “Without it, we can’t read anything. And we can’t go back to Josef’s office.”
Vanessa stared at the blank pages of the book, trying to figure out a solution, when suddenly she stood up. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and ran to her room, picking up the piece of rosin Elly had left beneath her door, with the note still wrapped around it. Vanessa unfolded it.
Just heard the craziest convo between J and H. Come by my room as soon as you get back, and I’ll show you what this does. Don’t tell anyone. Hurry.
Vanessa gasped, finally understanding Elly’s message.
“Elly knew,” Vanessa said upon entering Steffie’s room. She held up the note. “Remember this? After Elly screamed during that rehearsal, she was sent to Josef’s office. And while she was there, she must have seen the exact same thing we just saw.”
“Plus something strange between Josef and Hilda,” Steffie added, rereading the note. And placing it carefully on her desk, she took the block from Vanessa’s hand and dragged it across her hand until her palm was coated in a thick layer of rosin. “Now we’ll know too.” Steffie pointed to the votive dancing on her nightstand. “Candle, please.”
Dance of Shadows (Dance of Shadows - Trilogy) Page 24