The Dance (16 page)

She felt Bryan staring at her. Looking up, she was surprised to see that he seemed afraid.

There was no time to ask him why. Hank appeared, looking like a one-woman department store. She had clothes, coats over her arms and shoulder, and boots in both hands.

Hank and Bryan helped Melanie pull jeans over her leotard, a sweatshirt on top, and then zipped her into her coat. Hank untied and tugged off her slippers and jammed her feet into boots. She wasn't aware that Bryan had slipped her necklace off in the confusion until she reached for it again.

“My medallion! Where is it?” She felt panicked, naked.

“I have it, Melanie. You don't have to wear it now that you're finished with rehearsal,” Bryan said. “It's safe in my pocket.”

“It's mine! I'm supposed to wear it. Give it back, Bryan, no kidding.” She felt strength drain out of her body, her legs, her knees. Before she knew it, she was falling—falling—

“Catch her, Bryan,” Hank screeched. “She's fainting!”

Bryan scooped her up into his arms. She wasn't unconscious, just terribly weak. She felt him catch her, hold her close, lift her, and carry her to the car. He tucked her into the passenger seat, buckled her seat belt, left her for a few seconds.

She heard her door slam. His open, slam. He reached for her on her left. “Melanie, Mel, are you all right?”

“You should have put her back here, Bryan,” Hank scolded. “I could have held onto her.”

“She's all right. Aren't you, Mel?”

“I feel so weak, Bryan. What's wrong with me?”

“Nothing. You're just tired. I'll bet you haven't eaten all day.”

“Take me home, Bryan. I want to go home.” Melanie held to the seat, concentrating on keeping upright. “I'll be all right if you take me home.”

Bryan did as Melanie asked, skidding on icy streets twice. He pulled into her driveway, then ran around before she could try to get out of the car.

“I've got you. Just relax.” He tugged her out and scooped her into his arms again as if she weighed nothing.

She felt light, floating, as if she was a feather, a snowflake, drifting, drifting …

“Melanie!” her mother screamed. “What happened? What's wrong? Oh, my baby.” Katherine Clark pulled the door wide and pointed to where to take Melanie. “Put her in her bed. Oh, I knew this was going to happen. You've been working too hard. Not eating enough. Leona should pay more attention or she won't have a show. Put her on the bed. I've got a pot of soup on the stove. That's what she needs. Something to eat.”

As soon as Katherine was sure Melanie wasn't hurt, she ran back down to the kitchen.

“Whew,” Seth said. “We are surrounded by intense women.” His comment made them laugh—a little.

Melanie let Hank help her get her coat and boots off and tuck her into the bed. Keeping her eye on Bryan until she saw him take the medallion from his pocket, she pretended to cooperate. But when he laid it on her bedside table, she rolled over and grabbed it. Why had he taken it away from her?

She squeezed it until the metal of the panther dug into her hand. It felt warm, making her breathe easier. Her head cleared a little, and she watched Bryan look at Seth, then both look at Hank, and at her.

“Okay, now why did you cause such a scene back there, Bryan? What was it so important to say to me?” Slipping the chain over her head, she let the panther rest near her heart and pulled herself to a sitting position.

“Melanie,” Bryan said, “did my pulling that thing off your neck make you faint?”

“Of course not.” She grasped it again. It did—she knew it did. And that frightened her even more than being without it had done. “It's just—that I'm supposed to wear it all the time. Hank nearly got killed today for forgetting hers.”

“She didn't forget it,” Seth said, starting their tale. “We took it to the city.”

“What did you find out, Seth?” Hank asked, sitting beside Melanie on the bed and taking her hand.

Quickly, and with one eye on the doorway, Bryan and Seth gave the two girls all the information they'd gotten in the afternoon. The more Melanie heard, the harder she squeezed Hank's hand.

Hank looked at Melanie when they stopped talking. “Well, that's quite a story. Are you sure you didn't go to the movies instead of visiting this so-called expert?”

“You don't have to believe it,” Bryan said, staring at Melanie. “I don't think I do. But you know how gullible Seth is. He fell for it like a drowning man clutches a rope.” Bryan tried to laugh.

“That figures, Rubens.” Hank put her arm around Melanie. “You are steeped in Old Testament mythology.”

“Demons are mentioned throughout the Old Testament,” Seth admitted. “There must have been a reason for that.”

“The Old Testament is the history of a people. So it would explore their superstitions, their belief systems, all of their culture,” Bryan pointed out.

“Jesus cast out demons in the New Testament,” Seth countered.

“That was a flowery way to say he cured someone who was mentally ill.” Bryan looked at Hank, then at Melanie for support.

“Just what we needed on a cold night,” Hank said. “A deep theological discussion. Right, Mel?”

Melanie nodded. She wasn't sure what to make of the story. Looking at the medallion, she could see that it was old. She already knew that. And that book was old. Five hundred years? Surely not, but it was ancient. No argument there.

“Let me get this straight. You think Madame Leona is getting us ready to dance with seven demons? Bryan, I know you want me to drop the ballet, but if you expect me to believe this, you're really desperate.” Melanie laughed out loud. At the same time she clutched the bed, drawing the sheet up into her fist.

She did believe it! Something inside her made her sure that everything Bryan and Seth had found out was true. What—what could she do about it?

Hank joined in with Melanie's laughter. “Think your mother has enough soup for company? I just realized I'm starved.”

“She probably made enough for the whole school,” Melanie said. “Go help her, Hank. Come back up here and eat with me.”

Hank left and Seth followed her. Bryan sat beside Melanie on the bed. “Melanie, you don't have to believe this, okay? But if you keep wearing that necklace, if you stay under Leona's power, how are you going to keep snooping around, trying to find out what Leona is up to?”

“There's no proof of any of this. What if she's just a dance teacher?” Melanie didn't know why she had to keep arguing with Bryan.

“Let me have the medallion, Mel. I'll stay with you. So will Hank and Seth. We'll stay with you tonight.”

“My mother will love that.” Melanie grasped the chain.

“Tell her the truth.”

“Tell my mother that Madame Leona is—is—”

“She's evil. A witch.”

“No, Bryan, that's not possible.”

“Then take off the necklace. It has no power.”

Melanie took a tighter hold on the medallion. Now just the idea of removing it made her shiver and feel sick at her stomach. But if she didn't …

“Let's forget this, Bryan. Leave me alone till after the recital.”

“That might be too late.”

“When is—is this—this— When is it supposed to happen?”

“I don't know. I'm guessing soon. Leona had to replace Paulie quickly. She seemed to be under some pressure to get another dancer so she'd have seven.”

He placed his hand over hers. Unlocked one finger, another, then another. “I'll take it home with me. Bring it back tomorrow in time for you to have it at rehearsal. You can wear it only when you dance, only when you're with Leona Turva.”

What small bit of her own personality that remained, that was rational, knew Bryan was right. “All right. Take it. Hurry, before I change my mind.”

She felt the metal slide from around her neck. She heard Bryan's voice say, “Melanie isn't feeling well, Mrs. Clark. I think she's going to need you to stay with her some of the night.”

I've changed my mind, Brian, give it back
. She tried to scream, tried to call out, reach out. Nothing worked. Her legs melted into the bed. Her arms were rubber bands. Her voice was silent.

Darkness closed in around her—the thickest, blackest, most ominous silence she had ever known.

seventeen

And the demon Danel came to her, reassuring, helpful, and leading the way.

S
HE FELL INTO
a deep pit, tried to climb out, up and up and up, there was no way out. Even had she succeeded, on one side, at the top, Frau Voska stood, alternately waving her stick and beating it against her black skirt. On the other side, Leona Turva stared at her. “How dare you,” she said. “You have disobeyed me. You must be punished.” She laughed on and on and on, a high-pitched, shrill sound. “You are still mine. You can stay there until I want you, until it is time.”

She fought to wake up. She must wake up. If she was awake she could climb out of the pit.

“Melanie, Melanie, honey. Wake up. Please wake up.” It was her mother's voice.

“Mother?” Her head felt like it was twice its size. Her legs belonged to someone else. She had no control over them. Something heavy pinned her to the damp sheets. “Help me. Help me get up.”

She felt her mother's hands trying to pull her to a sitting position, trying to prop her up. She felt dizzy, so dizzy.

“Melanie, should I call a doctor? Maybe we should go to the emergency room at the hospital.”

“No. No. I'm all right. I'll be all right. If I can just wake up. I have to go to rehearsal.”

“I know you want to, but I don't see how you're going to dance today. I'll call Leona. She'll understand.”

“No, she won't. It's too close, too close to time.”

She struggled to pull her legs over the side, to sit up on the side of the bed. Her mother sat beside her, holding her.

With all her mental strength, she fought. All night she had fought. She was winning. She could win.

“Do you want something? Some juice, hot tea, coffee?” Her mother's voice pleaded with her to want something. To tell her something she could do.

“Have you been here all night?” Melanie asked. Her head was clearing a tiny bit, then more and more.

“Yes. You tossed and turned. You screamed and called out. I could never understand what you were saying. Oh, Melanie, I was so scared. I should have insisted you go to the hospital last night.”

“No, I don't need a doctor. Some juice. That sounds good. And I'm hungry. I—I think I can get up and shower.”

“Are you sure? I don't want you to fall.”

“I'm sure.” She wasn't strong, but her mind was clearing. Her hand flew to her chest. The medallion. Bryan had taken her medallion. Then she remembered his story. That incredible story they'd told after returning from the city.

Shower, Melanie, just shower and get dressed.

She was sitting at the kitchen table when the doorbell rang. Bryan, that was Bryan. She could have it back now. It would be easier to keep wearing it. This was too hard.

To her surprise it was Laurie Roberts. “Melanie, are you ready to go to rehearsal? Madame Leona called me. She remembered we live close. I'm supposed to give you a ride.”

For a few seconds, Melanie stared at Laurie. She was supposed to be Bryan. And Seth and Hank. He promised. He promised he'd pick her up and return the necklace.

“Melanie?” Her mother stared at her. “Are you going to rehearsal?”

“Oh. Oh, yes. Just a minute. I'll get my things.” She was stronger, getting stronger. Slowly, but with a determination she hadn't felt in a long time, she walked back upstairs. She gathered her dance clothes, packed her bag.

Jean Whitney was in the back seat of Laurie's car. “One more week, Melanie. We're almost there. One more week.”

Melanie got in and then studied the two girls with her. There was something strange about them. Both seemed to be functioning in a daze, a type of robot behavior that might seem normal to most people. But Melanie had known them before.

Had she been acting like that? “Are you wearing your medallions this morning?” she asked both of them.

“Of course.” Laurie pulled hers out to show it. “Aren't you? Madame Leona told us to wear them all the time. Remember?”

Yes, I do remember. And what did I do? The really smart detective, Melanie. I wore it.

Avoiding Leona and Frau Voska, Melanie hurried to the locker room and changed into her leotard. Slowly she tied on her toe shoes. She kept a towel around her neck the whole time in case anyone noticed it was bare.

Hank burst in. “Melanie, there you are. Did you forget we were stopping for you?”

“No, Laurie came for me. Leona sent her.” Melanie formed each word slowly. She seemed to be doing everything in slow motion. But she knew what she was doing.

“Here.” Hank slipped her the medallion with its red stone, the magic red stone.

Melanie stared at it. Hank, standing in front of her, took it from her hands and slipped it over her neck. “Just while we're here,” she whispered in Melanie's ear. “Just while we're here with Leona.”

In seconds Melanie felt an incredible amount of strength surge back into her arms, her legs, her entire body. She could dance now.

They followed that pattern the rest of the week. Right after rehearsal, Bryan and Seth picked them up. Both Melanie and Hank took off the medallions and handed them over. Melanie especially didn't trust her self-control. It had been so easy to comply with Leona's orders.

The four of them went over and over the strange ideas Mr. Cohen had put forth. But only Seth said what no one else was willing to put into words. “The only proof we'll have is if it happens.”

By Friday Melanie felt completely herself—except that she knew she had never been so nervous before a dance recital. This didn't feel like a recital, it felt like a performance, an important one. This close to New York City, an occasional scout from a ballet or an advanced school attended recitals. Madame Leona had surely sent invitations to important people she knew. After all, this was her first showing of her elite troupe.