Dance of Shadows (33 page)

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 breath, 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.”

Vanessa held it out while Steffie carefully dipped her hand into the flame. It immediately ignited, her entire palm bursting into a brilliant red blaze.

“Are you okay?” Vanessa said, jumping back, but Steffie only nodded.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she said. “It just feels hot,” she added, gazing at her fingers. “Like bathwater that could be a few degrees cooler.”

In the light of the flames, the book flickered to life. Ink leeched onto the page, forming lines, dots, patterns; letters swirling into each other; sketches materializing out of nowhere.

“It’s beautiful,” Steffie murmured in awe.

Vanessa studied the curling ink, watching as the words spread across the parchment. But something was wrong. She tilted her head, trying to read them, but she couldn’t.

“It’s all in Russian!” she said.

Steffie waved her hand slightly, casting shadows over the page, as if that would make a difference. But it was useless. “I didn’t know Justin spoke Russian,” Steffie said.

Neither did Vanessa. “Great,” she said. “Do you know anyone else who can read this?”

But Steffie didn’t respond. “Never mind that,” she said, gazing up around her. “Look at the walls.”

Vanessa followed her gaze. As the light from the burning rosin flickered off the walls, words began to form, in a cramped scrawl that Vanessa knew so well it could have been her own. Almost reflexively, Vanessa grabbed Steffie’s arm and guided her burning hand upward, illuminating the ceiling, the walls, the doors. Words spilled out over them, jumbling together in corners, curling around the doorknobs.

“What is it?” Steffie whispered.

Vanessa shivered, feeling the warmth of the fire tickling her skin, as if it were her sister’s breath, whispering in her ear. “Margaret’s secret diary.”

They didn’t know where to start reading, but to Vanessa’s surprise, Margaret had anticipated that.

“There,” Vanessa said, pointing Steffie’s arm to a line above Steffie’s bed. The text was cut off by a poster, which Vanessa quickly pulled off the wall.

There is no beginning. Or if there is, I don’t know about it. Do I believe in black magic? In alternate worlds? In demons? I never used to, but now I can’t help but think that I’m wrong, that I’m trapped here, that I’ll never escape. I thought I knew what dance was, but I knew nothing
.

I know more now. All because of Josef. The necro-dancer who commands me
.

Josef is only the most recent. There were others before him; I read about them in books. Secret books. And if he fails, there will be others who come after him. And if I fail, he fails. I have bruises from him. They line the insides of my arms, my thighs, my hips, my ribs. At first it was from his rod, the one he uses to keep the beat. If I fell out of step, he would straighten me with it, and if I stepped out of line, he would push me back with it, and if I complained, he would silence me with it
.

It wasn’t my fault. I should have left earlier, but now I can’t. Josef knows where we live. He knows he can have her if he wants her. She is a better dancer than I am. If I fail, Josef will get her to do it instead. I can’t let that happen
.

I’ve heard whispers about the Lyric Elite. Who are they? Why have they kept silent? Can they help? How do I find them?

It feels like Josef’s here with me all the time. Like he’s inside me, speaking to me, telling me what to think, where to step, when to breathe, and when to stop. He’s working with someone else, too, like a dark shadow behind him, everywhere he goes. I don’t know who. Today Josef brought me into his office. It was dark and smelled like burning wax. The rosin. He didn’t know I knew what it was for. He didn’t know that I snuck into his office and watched him
.

He said, I heard the other students are worried about you. They say you’re not well. That you wander the halls
at night, whispering things about our meeting together
.

That you shout in your sleep and wake the other students. Is this true?

I don’t know, I said
.

He slammed his hand on the table
.

You’re lying, he said. You’re going to destroy everything we’ve worked for
.

I can’t help it. I feel so weak. I want to go home. I need to rest
.

That is impossible
.

Why?

I made a promise
.

To me?

To the Guest. I promised your hand in marriage
.

Marriage? But I’m too young
.