That night, when everyone headed off to their rooms for the night, Phoebe absolutely refused to sleep in her bed, and after a half an hour of fruitless arguing, Dorian decided it wasn’t worth it and let her stay with him. If he thought he was the only stubborn one, he was dead wrong. Unfortunately, she was so exhausted that within seconds of lying down, she drifted off to sleep, before she could even try to persuade him to change his mind about kissing her.
And so the days passed. Phoebe became better, faster, and stronger. Hector became more and more infused into their small but close group, and within two weeks, he was as much a part of them as if he had been there from day one. He still wasn’t having any success with turning off his talent, but it didn’t dampen his spirits. If anything, he enjoyed the challenge.
Phoebe started doing surveillance around the Haven. She could reach up to fifty miles, but there was never anything to see. Nothing but a desolate wasteland devoid of any form of life. Sebastian had disappeared again. Dorian still seemed unconcerned, but it made Phoebe anxious.
They hardly even came across anyone in the Annexus anymore. Their training arena was in a remote area of the palace, and therefore they rarely met anyone whether they were coming or going. Dorian remained unnaturally stubborn, but by the end of the day, Phoebe was usually too tired to argue with him.
Days sped by and turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months, and before Phoebe knew it, the Water Season was coming to a close. The Water Tournament had been the day before, and they had gone to watch, but didn’t compete. Kali easily won the trophy. It was strange; after so many weeks of being away from her, Phoebe was amazed to find that her anger and hatred toward Kali had not lessened in the slightest. As the season drew to an end, the annual Water Celebration—a full-fledged ball with fancy clothing and dancing—became the topic of conversation among the students. Phoebe sighed; it was going to be like senior prom all over again.
***
On the day of the ball, Phoebe stood in her bathroom trying to figure out what she was supposed to look like for the event that she would much rather skip. She was failing miserably at her task. In her defense, she had less than adequate help in her current predicament.
“This is really boring,” Hector commented.
“That’s because you’re not helping,” she replied.
“And what led you to believe I was the best person to give advice on dresses and hairstyles?” he asked incredulously.
“Absolutely nothing. You just happen to be the only one available.”
“Didn’t Cynthia and Lucy already help you pick out a dress? If you haven’t got one by now, I would say it’s too late. The ball starts in two hours.”
Phoebe stuck her head out the door so he could plainly see that she was not oblivious to that fact. “Really? I had no idea,” she said sarcastically.
Cynthia and Lucy burst into the room, closely followed by Evan, Jared, and Ethan. Phoebe sighed in relief. “Where have you been?” she demanded of Lucy and Cynthia.
“Busy,” they both replied nonchalantly.
Their hair was already perfect while Phoebe’s was in shambles. All they had to do was get dressed, and they’d be ready. Phoebe inwardly groaned. Why did the Water Celebration have to be a ball? Wasn’t it enough that she had to go? And on top of that, they wanted her to dance in front of everyone. She had taken dance lessons, so she wasn’t worried so much about the technicalities; she was more worried about everyone watching. This wasn’t like the Earth Festival where all Ethan had to do was stand on the platform and look pretty for ten minutes. No, she had to put on a show.
“Well, it’s about time you got back. Hector is completely useless.”
Hector shrugged his shoulders. “What did you want me to do? Did you want your hair to look worse?”
Evan and Ethan laughed. Phoebe was well aware that her hair looked like it had just come out of a blender. Cynthia and Lucy edged into the bathroom and stared at her in disbelief.
“What did you do to it?” Cynthia asked, horrified.
“I have absolutely no idea. Just fix it; I’m begging you,” Phoebe pleaded.
Lucy grimaced. “I never imagined that hair could actually look like that. I mean, I’ve seen some of Ethan’s memories from TV shows, but I had no idea it was actually possible to do on accident.”
The two started working on Phoebe’s hair. It took over an hour, but it was eventually smoothed and pulled away from her face, hanging down her back in waves that she never could have done herself. She hadn’t even realized until then that her hair had grown by at least four inches since her arrival. It was nearing the middle of her back.
They then set to work on her face. She usually wore a light amount of makeup—earth tones, nothing flashy—but as Cynthia and Lucy pulled out container after container of some powder or another, Phoebe began to get worried. Beauty was not her area of expertise. Her roommates, on the other hand, probably could have passed for models in the Realm of Non-Magic.
The boys hung out in the sitting room the whole time Phoebe’s hair was being reformed and her face painted, and then they left to get dressed. She was secretly envious; ten minutes and they were ready while she had been standing in the bathroom for most of the day. The sun was starting to set, and soft snow flakes fell from the sky. It wasn’t the first time it had snowed, but the ground had been dry for several days.
Cynthia and Lucy slipped into their dresses. They looked stunning. Lucy’s dress was a soft cream color and floor length while her red hair hung down in soft curls. Cynthia had on gold, which brought out the shining highlights in her hair that was twisted up into elegant knots. Phoebe briefly wondered if they would let her shape-shift one of them into her so they could take her place on the dance floor. It would still look like Phoebe out there, but they moved much more seamlessly and elegantly than she could ever hope for.
Cynthia and Lucy pulled the dress out of the wardrobe that had been made for Phoebe by the dwarves. The dwarves were exceptionally skilled when it came to any and all clothing. Phoebe looked over the floor-length, midnight blue material, and her jaw dropped.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said breathlessly.
A frown wrinkled Cynthia’s otherwise perfect features. “Don’t you like this color?”
“No…I mean…yes, I like the color. I meant, you expect me to wear that?”
Lucy sighed. “I told you she was going to be difficult if we went with that cut.”
Cynthia rolled her eyes. “Come on, Phoebe, just put it on. You’re going to look great.”
Phoebe wasn’t so sure about that. Although, after all the time they’d spent on her hair, she could hardly politely say no. Still, she grimaced and complained all through putting it on, just for effect. Cynthia squealed in happiness when she had it on.
“Perfect! Absolutely gorgeous, just like I knew it would be.”
Phoebe had to admit it certainly looked nice. It was backless, and the sleeves hung off her shoulders. Light danced on the flowing fabric every time she twisted. The neckline was low, but not embarrassingly or indecently so. Still, the overall effect was foreign to her, and she felt uncomfortable. She had been to formal occasions before, but never something quite as formal and elegant as what she was about to go to, and never before had
she
been the center of attention.
Thankfully, the shoes they had chosen were flat, ballet-looking shoes. Phoebe was a little confused by the three-foot length of silk ribbon attached to each black shoe until Cynthia and Lucy sat her down and each took a shoe and wrapped the lengths of the ribbons around her ankles and calves in a complicated pattern.
“I’m surprised that after everything else, the two of you were able to rein yourselves in with a sensible pair of shoes,” Phoebe commented.
Lucy frowned as she worked. “These weren’t your original shoes, but Cynthia reminded me that this will be the first time you’ll be in close proximity with Kali for quite a while. We thought it would be prudent for you to have shoes you can run in—just in case.”
That was Lucy’s tactful way of saying “In case you feel like murdering Kali tonight, we are making sure you don’t break your ankle in the process.” Phoebe was suddenly looking forward to this ball even less. Cynthia finished her last twist and secured the ribbon before straightening up and slipping on her own shoes and quickly tying them. Lucy finished as well, and as Phoebe stood up, the fabric of her dress obscured the shoes completely. All the artful wrapping seemed to be a wasted effort. Then Lucy straightened a few stray hairs and fixed a smudge or two of makeup. Lastly, they each stood back to admire their work. At least, that’s what Phoebe figured they were doing by the pleased looks on their faces. Sapphire, Bree, Beau, Thor, and Shade all joined the quiet observance.
Someone lightly tapped on the door.
Cynthia jumped and ran to answer the door, and Lucy sat down on her bed to twist the ribbons of her own shoes. Phoebe didn’t need to ask why they were wearing shoes similar to hers. Their loyalty and friendship was more than she probably deserved. Still, her heart warmed at the small, unobtrusive sign of solidarity. These were more than her friends; they were her family. Not her family in its entirety, but if she had to be without her parents, at least she still had strong bonds to support her in her times of need and opportunities to return the favor.
Phoebe could hear the boys in the sitting room. She listened closely, but Dorian’s soft and smooth voice was absent. She also couldn’t hear his deep, even breathing or the steady beat of his heart. He wasn’t here yet. She hadn’t been allowed to see him since that morning, and she ached to hear his voice and feel his arms around her.
Lucy smiled sympathetically as she secured the last twist of her ribbon. “You’ll see him soon. I promise.” She must have noticed Phoebe straining for some sign of his presence.
Phoebe nodded slowly and followed Lucy into the sitting room. The silence that followed their entrance was louder than she had thought possible. The boys stared open-mouthed at them. Ethan only had eyes for Lucy, but Phoebe felt her face flush crimson as she realized that everyone else was staring at her. She glanced quickly at Cynthia, who was standing behind the boys, and silently pleaded for help. Cynthia rolled her eyes before smacking Jared and Evan on the back of the head.
“Quit staring like she’s a piece of meat. You see her every day; she just happens to have a dress on.”
Evan’s mouth flopped uselessly a few times before he decided against trying to speak and turned around to face the door. Jared followed suit and that left only Hector. Except his gaze wasn’t so much shock anymore, but admiration.
He caught Phoebe staring pointedly at him and cleared his throat and blinked a few times. “Well, aren’t you glad I’m not the one who dressed you?”
“No, maybe then everyone wouldn’t be acting like they had never seen me before.”
Cynthia shook her head and chuckled. “So ungrateful. Now, we’re going down, but you’re going to wait for Dorian here, okay?”
Phoebe sighed in relief. “Yes, that’s fine.”
Cynthia nodded and ushered everyone outside. Hector lingered for a minute.
“You look very nice,” he commented once the others had left.
“Thank you. You look nice as well.”
She felt anxious, and she had to fight her nervous habit of running her fingers through her hair. She didn’t even want to think about what Cynthia and Lucy would do to her if she so much as repositioned one strand.
He shifted uncomfortably. “Do you think Dorian would mind if I asked you for a dance later?”
“I can’t see why not. We’re all friends, aren’t we?”
“Friends, yes,” he muttered thoughtfully.
“Was there something else?” she asked after he had stared off into space for a long moment.
He snapped back to reality. “No, umm, I guess I’ll see you in a little bit.”
She smiled. “Okay, then.”
Hector turned and walked out of the room and left her to contemplate his strange behavior. Usually he teased her mercilessly, as she did him, and she had never seen him so uncomfortable.
Phoebe jumped not five minutes later when another soft knock sounded at the door. She didn’t even bother to look in the full-length mirror positioned right by the door as she hastened to pull it open. Dorian looked the same as always—glorious. Phoebe took a few seconds to just stare at him, and she completely forgot where they were going and what she was wearing. Until she caught the awestruck look in his eyes. Her face flushed again.
He brushed her cheek. “What are you embarrassed about? You’re beautiful.”
“I’m just not very comfortable,” she admitted.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t dress like this. I don’t mind going to the ball, but I really don’t want to be the center of attention. Can’t we just hide somewhere until it’s over?”
Dorian’s face broke into an amused smile. “I’m afraid not. You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ll be right there.”
Phoebe knew that no matter how she tried to drag it out and plead to stay, she would end up in the training arena eventually. Dorian had a powerful weapon of persuasion. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
Sapphire stepped up majestically beside her. Unlike Phoebe, her companion loved being the center of attention. Phoebe closed the door behind her, and Dorian slipped his arm around her waist as they began walking down toward the training arena, which had been rebuilt for the ball. Dorian stared at her out of the corner of his eye. She tried to ignore it by glancing over his clothes instead. She gasped as she realized he wasn’t wearing black.
His shirt was white while the vest that went over it and his pants were midnight blue, to match her dress. The color was still dark, but the difference was amazing. The blue made the silver in his eyes and the matching highlights of his hair more pronounced, and it made him seem softer, more like the Dorian she knew and less like the image he tried to portray.
“You look amazing,” Phoebe breathed as they walked.
“You sound surprised,” he scoffed. “I was under the impression you liked the way I looked.”