Dancing Days:
The Helicon Muses, Book One
by V. J. Chambers
If Hogwarts was more like Woodstock, and Voldemort was your childhood sweetheart turned abusive boyfriend...
As long as Nora Sparrow can remember, Owen has protected her. He’s been there through years of miserable foster homes and snobby mean girls, always whispering to her that she doesn’t belong here. Telling her that this is the mundane world, and someday, he’ll get them back to Helicon, the world of the muses. The world where they belong.
But Nora’s fifteen years old, and she isn’t sure she quite believes it anymore. When he begs her to try another ritual to open the dimensions, she agrees mostly to humor him. Owen’s rituals never work.
But this one does, and Nora is flung into the whimsical, bohemian land of Helicon, where she’s expected to do nothing more than create and inspire. With the help of her new muse friends, Nora sets out to discover who is creating holes in the fabric of Helicon and draining away the muses’ energy.
Everything would be perfect, if only Owen’s protectiveness wasn’t starting to seem so...obsessive.
DANCING DAYS
© copyright 2012 by V. J. Chambers
https://vjchambers.com
Punk Rawk Books
Please do not copy or post this book in its entirety or in parts anywhere. You may, however, share the entire book with a friend by forwarding the entire file to them. (And I won't get mad.)
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I am indebted to my fabulous beta reader N. R. Wick for helping me get this manuscript into shape. Thank you so much, Nikki.
Dancing Days:
The Helicon Muses, Book One
by V. J. Chambers
Welcome to Helicon.
Welcome Home.
Prologue
The dismissal bell cut clear and cold into the air, so loud that anyone standing outside Tressa Middle School could hear it echoing from within. And seconds later, the thud of hundreds of feet rent the air. A crowd of young adolescents shoved open the doors of the school. It was a warm spring day, but the buzz of the newly freed students drowned out the sound of the birds chirping.
Nora Sparrow, twelve years old, trailed behind a group of four girls, who were tittering over a magazine full of pictures of teen idols. The girls passed the magazine back and forth amongst themselves as they walked, each cooing over pictures of actor Matt Tint, who one girl proclaimed was, “Delicious enough to eat.”
None of the girls noticed Nora walking behind them as they cleared the doors of the school and bounded down the steps into the warm air. No one noticed Nora. No one ever had. This was the tenth school she’d attended and the eleventh foster family she’d lived with. Adults often asked her if she was making friends. Nora wasn’t, but she wanted to.
It was harder than ever anymore. It seemed like, with every passing day, it got more important for Nora to be wearing the right kinds of clothes or styling her hair the right way for people to notice her. For Nora, who’d just gone through a growth spurt and had a collection of pants that were too tight at the waist and too short for her legs, trendy clothes were not an option. She’d tried asking her foster mother about getting her hair styled but had been ignored, so her red hair had been cut (by her foster father) in a short bob.
There was one thing that Nora thought she could do to make friends. Owen always told her not to do it, but she wasn’t sure if she believed those stories Owen was always telling her. She wasn’t a little kid anymore. She didn’t need Owen’s bedtime stories. She knew he meant for them to make her feel better, but following his rules was only making her miserable. So she was trying to get up the courage to talk to these girls.
The girls all paused at the end of the steps, hovering over the magazine, their mouths wide.
“I love his smile,” sighed one girl. Nora knew that her name was Angela.
Taking a deep breath, Nora tapped Angela on the shoulder.
Angela turned. She gave Nora a look of disdain. “What?”
“You’re looking at pictures of Matt Tint, right?” Nora asked.
One of the other girls, who was named Ashleigh, rolled her eyes. “Did anyone ask you to come talk to us?”
“We’re having a private conversation,” said the third girl, who was called Caitlyn.
Nora shrugged. “Well, okay, but I draw Matt Tint. I thought you guys might want to see.” Nora pulled out a sketch pad. She’d been working on various drawings of the teen hunk for days, trying to get them perfect. She thought this one was her best. She hoped it would impress the girls.
“Whoa.” Angela snatched the sketch book from Nora. “That’s really good.”
Caitlyn and Ashleigh crowded closer to peek. They looked at Nora with different eyes, as if they’d never really seen her before. Their eyes flitted from the sketch pad to Nora’s face, and the expressions on their faces were ones of wonder.
“How’d you do that?” asked Caitlyn. “It looks just like him.”
Ashleigh shook her head. “No way, it looks better than him. The guy in this picture is too delicious to eat.”
The three girls giggled, and Nora joined in, smiling. She couldn’t believe it. Not only had they noticed her, they were impressed by her.
“You’re Nora, right?” said Caitlyn.
Nora nodded.
“We’re going back to my house to play dance games on my Wii,” Caitlyn said. “Do you want to come?”
Nora couldn’t suppress a huge grin. “I love to dance,” she said.
Overhead, the sky was abruptly changing. Dark clouds were rolling in, obscuring the blue sky. The air was growing colder. Nora looked up, shivering a little, but the other girls were too engrossed with the picture she’d drawn to pay it any mind.
Ashleigh called out to another group of girls on the steps. “You should see this picture that Nora drew! It’s amazing.”
The other group of girls drew close, passing the picture around amongst them, each giving Nora rapturous looks when they saw it. They whispered and sighed, and Nora could hear the awe in their voices. It made her feel buoyant and alive, more happy than she thought she’d ever felt. Ever.
Thunder rumbled overhead. Nora looked up at the sky apprehensively. “Do you think it’s going to rain?”
“You should show this to Mrs. Garn,” said Angela. Mrs. Garn was the art teacher. “She would be really impressed.”
By now, other students were noticing that a small crowd had gathered at the bottom of the steps, and they were stopping to see what the fuss was about. In turn, they all examined Nora’s picture. More exclamations were made at its greatness. Everyone was extremely impressed. They congratulated and flattered her. Nora found herself in the center of a group of middle schoolers, laughingly deflecting their praise. It felt so good.
The sky grew darker.
Across the street, the sound of another bell sounded, and the older students who attended Tressa High School began to exit the larger building. Nora bit her lip. That meant Owen was getting out of school. And if he saw her and realized what she’d done, he might not be happy.
Noticing all the kids crowded up outside the middle school, several of the high school students wandered over, demanding to know what was going on. Nora’s picture was passed to them as well. There was more generalized amazement, everyone admiring the picture.
Nora was starting to feel nervous. Was her picture really that good? If it was, that meant that all those things that Owen said about muses were real. And if it was all real, then the danger was real too.
The sky was purplish black overhead. Nora stared at it in fear, noticing the strange purple sparks that leapt from dark cloud to dark cloud. She didn’t think this was a normal storm. Thunder crashed, shaking
the air, but no one seemed to care. They were all too interested in Nora’s drawing. Nora watched the sparks of purple in the clouds join together, forming a large lightning bolt that danced in the sky above, growing thicker and longer with each passing moment. She gulped.
“Nora!” screamed a voice.
Owen. He was here.
She took her gaze away from the clouds for a moment to look for him. He was pushing through the crowd that had gathered around her, his dark hair in his eyes. “What did you do?” There was panic in his voice.
“I drew a picture,” she squeaked.
A bang of thunder.
Owen glanced upward and then tackled Nora, knocking her to the ground and covering her body with his own.
Nora could barely see the huge purple lightning bolt descend from the cloud and strike Owen’s body. He lit up from the hair on his head to the tips of his fingers. He shuddered above her, crying out in pain.
Nora squeezed her eyes shut. No. She whimpered. She should never have shown them the picture. Owen said if she ever showed anyone anything creative she’d done, she’d be in danger. The Influence killed muses if they were in the mundane world, he’d told her. And now it was killing Owen.
But the bolt ceased, and Owen, gritting his teeth, got to his feet and helped Nora up. Above them, the clouds were already clearing. He turned on the crowd of people, who were all standing shocked around them. They backed up a few paces, seeing his fierce expression. “Who’s got the picture?”
No one moved.
“The picture,” Owen growled. “Someone’s got it. Give it to me.”
And Angela stepped forward, holding up the sketchbook.
Owen snatched it from her and took Nora by the arm. He dragged her away from the other students. “I told you never to do that, didn’t I?” he said. “Didn’t I tell you never to do that?”
“I’m sorry.” Nora hung her head. She hadn’t really believed him.
“You’re lucky I was there, and I could take the Influence’s energy,” said Owen. “Otherwise, you’d be dead.”
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