The Dance (12 page)

“Oh, Melanie, that is
you
. It's perfect, isn't it Nicol?”

“It sure is.” Nicol pushed Melanie's arm so that she twirled around.

Melanie wore a black dress with a softly pleated chiffon skirt. The skirt swirled around her legs sensuously. It was a very simple design, the bodice sleeveless and scooped deep like a tank top.

“Here.” Anne took a black, green, and gold sash the sales lady handed her and wrapped it around Melanie's waist. “Just that much color. Green for the holiday and your eyes.”

“Tights with lace on the bottom are a must.” Janell held up a pair. “And these little slippers with gold trim.

Nicol started holding up dangling earrings to Melanie's ears. She finally settled on a pair that were like a cascade of lacy gold coins. “And at least five gold bracelets.”

Five gold rings
. The line from the song flashed through Melanie's mind.
I'd like to give you one gold ring
. Bryan's words bombarded Melanie's mind while the expensive clothes heightened her senses. Nicol's exotic perfume stayed in her nostrils as she fussed over Melanie.

“There, imagine the tights, and it's a perfect outfit for the holidays. You'll be the star of all your parties.”

Melanie dared look at herself in the mirror that reflected back three Melanies with shimmering light brown hair. The heavy medallion, looking a bit out of place, rested between her breasts on the black background. The red stone glowed.

“I—I may not be going to any parties, and I can't afford the outfit anyway.” Melanie was honest on both counts.

“Of course you'll be going to dozens of parties,” said Anne. “I thought you had a steady guy.”

Melanie tried to laugh. “Well, I do, but I don't think we'll go to any party where I could wear this.”

“So—” Nicol shrugged. “Find somebody rich to go out with. Maybe we know someone.”

“With your looks, Melanie, you can have any guy you want. Don't go steady with someone who can't treat you like you're special.” Janell teased the earrings with one finger and they tinkled slightly in Melanie's ear.

“Listen, we know some terrific guys,” Anne added. “We'll introduce you. They'll make your guy seem like he belongs in junior high.”

Nicol looked deep into Melanie's eyes, holding her captive for a moment. “Listen to us. You don't need that guy.”

Melanie took a deep breath and touched the red stone in her necklace. She felt suddenly warm, powerful, and sure of herself. Nicol was right. She didn't need to go steady with Bryan.

Nicol laughed, bringing Melanie out of her thoughts. “We'll take all this.” She indicated Melanie's outfit and handed the sales woman the tights with the lace on the cuffs.

“But, Nicol, I can't—”

“You're not buying it, we are. It's your Christmas present. We were wondering what to get you.”

Not wanting to, Melanie had glanced at the price tag on the dress when she put it on. It was a hundred and eighty-six dollars! Add all the accessories and shoes and the bill was going to add up to way over three or four hundred dollars.

“This is too—”

“We don't want to hear any more about it. It's done.” Nicol tossed several hundred-dollar bills on the counter, piling up the things she'd chosen to add to the ticket.

In a daze, Melanie took off the dress, put her own clothes back on, and said no more. But she didn't feel right about accepting such an expensive gift from Nicol, or all three of them if they split the cost.

She didn't want to make a fuss. She didn't know how to get out of being the recipient of their generosity. So she gave up, and smiled. “How can I just say thanks? It's a beautiful dress.”

“You can dance like you did the other day.” Nicol handed Melanie a bag to carry. “You'll make all of us look good. I can't believe how well you've fit in with the troupe. I couldn't resist telling Leona she should have picked you over Pauline McMasters in the first place.” Nicol smiled, and her blue-gray eyes sparkled.

“Thanks, Nicol.” Melanie shook her head. She was having trouble focusing. But she managed one question. “Why didn't Paulie work out? Do you know?”

“Oh, she was super spoiled. And she hated working hard. Leona said she had an attitude problem right from the first. It takes a certain personality for ensemble work. You know that. You're the type we needed.”

Melanie wasn't sure just how to take that. She had never been a trouble maker, until now, she thought, but she did have some backbone. Nicol meant what she'd said as a compliment, she thought, scolding herself.

She realized she was looking desperately for a reason to dislike Nicol, to resent what she'd said about Paulie. But it was probably a leftover from Hank's introduction. Hank didn't like Nicol, and her feelings had rubbed off on Melanie. But look how great Nicol was treating her. All three members of the troupe were acting as if Melanie was their best friend.

“Now, where shall we eat dinner?” Nicol interrupted Melanie's thoughts.

Dinner? Melanie wasn't going to get home in time to call Bryan. But then—she'd forgotten. It didn't matter. She was going to cool their relationship, maybe even give him up. She didn't need him anymore. She had new friends.

twelve

M
ELANIE FELL INTO
bed, exhausted from the shopping trip to New York, but she couldn't get to sleep right away. She was cold—her mother kept the heat turned way down to save money—and on top of that, she was annoyed that her mother had made her go over every detail of the day's trip before she would let her go to bed. She marveled over the new clothing Nicol had bought Melanie, handling every piece, making Melanie put it on again.

Sometimes Melanie fantasized about having a mother who had a life of her own, or a family with a bunch of brothers like Hank did. She was sure Hank's mother didn't have to know how Hank spent every single minute of her day. She wouldn't have time to listen.

The trip had been fun, but Melanie was left feeling puzzled, something she could never talk to her mother about. Anne, Janell, and Nicol had been so nice to her, too nice. She didn't trust them, but her feelings were all intuitive. She couldn't put her finger on anything wrong with them. Just like she couldn't find anything concrete wrong with Leona. They just didn't seem—well, real.

Melanie had never been around really rich girls; maybe this was how they all acted. A bit artificial, spoiled, able to buy anything they wanted, and able to give expensive gifts to anyone they wanted to impress. Had they been trying to impress her? She didn't know, and there was certainly no reason to cater to her.

It wasn't like Melanie to look for trouble where none existed. Maybe that was the source of the uncomfortable feeling when she was around the three girls that Hank called the witches. She wanted to find something suspicious, and she couldn't. Because there wasn't anything. They were good dancers. They spent their money, wherever they got it, rather frivolously, but there was certainly nothing wrong with that.

If you had tons of money, who's to say how you'd spend it?

She lay in bed, smiling, thinking how foolish she was going to feel when this investigation came to naught. Of its own volition, her hand felt for the medallion still around her neck. She clutched it, pressing the metal into her palm. The stone felt warm, comforting.

Finally she felt secure, cozy, and the thoughts and emotions that tumbled in her head settled to a soft muddle. She'd spend some time looking at the whole situation in the morning when she wasn't so tired.

She slept, but as soon as she entered a deep state, tapping into her subconscious, she began to dream.

It is some strange time between day and night. The sky is brilliant green. She must be in Iowa or Kansas because this means tornado weather.

She and Bryan leave her house together. He is wearing his wrestling sweats, but she
—
she is wearing a long white lace dress. The material is crisp and swishes as she moves. The skirt circles when she spins around. Over the dress a fur-trimmed white cloak falls in heavy straight lines from her shoulders to the ground. The cloak has an attached hood, but she's not wearing it. A slight breeze ruffles her long brown hair and lifts the cloak slightly.

She carries a sword in front of her, the blade high in the air.

“If you don't return that sword to the Arbuthnot, Madame Voska will be angry,” Bryan tells her.

“I don't care. She doesn't scare me.”

Suddenly Frau Voska steps in front of them. Her hands ride on her hips and she is frowning. “That is from the shop. It is only used for special events. Return it this instant.”

“Bryan needs it,” Melanie says. “He can't be the Cavalier of Swords without this blade.”

She gives the sword to Bryan. He points it at Voska and she disappears.

“You are good at banishing demons, Bryan,” she says. “You must stay by my side and always carry the sword.”

As they approach the high school, Pauline McMasters comes out. Melanie thinks this is funny since, first, Paulie is dead, and second, it's winter break. No one should be at school.

“I see you still carry the sword, Bryan. He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword.”

“But how else can I be a Cavalier of Swords?” Bryan asks. “And thanks for those great tarot cards, Paulie. Would you like to dance?” Bryan bows, sticks his sword into the ground, then reaches out his hand to Pauline.

“No, thanks. Melanie will take my place.” She fades away.

“I will dance.” Melanie laughs. “Can you spin, Bryan? Can you turn like this?” Melanie pulls another sword from inside her cloak and forces the point into the ground. “I like this sword better.”

Bryan groans. “Oh, no, Voska will kill me. She doesn't want us to handle the swords.”

Ignoring him, Melanie steps onto the slender, snake-curved bronze dagger. At first she turns slowly, then she spins around and around and around, balancing perfectly on the hilt.

Seth appears, dressed like a mortician with a black top hat and sneakers. He carries a tray holding steaming cups of spiced tea. Bryan takes a cup and both watch Melanie. “She's great, Bryan,” Seth says. “I think you'd better keep her.”

Melanie jumps off the sword and helps herself to tea. “Paulie can't have any tea, but I'm thirsty.”

Bryan pulls both swords from the ground. “Watch this, Melanie.” He starts to lift them into the air.

“Oh, let me. I can do it.” Melanie takes them from him. Laughing, she stands with both swords extended at shoulder level. She starts to spin like a toy top, both blades whispering as they rip the air.

Faster and faster she turns, faster and faster. The air twists itself into a vortex cutting into the earth. Melanie tosses the swords to Bryan. They watch as slowly, but with a loud rumble, a whirling core of earth rises slowly from the ground, balancing Melanie on its center.

“That's awesome, Mel, but get down now.”

Melanie leaps off the fifteen-foot wide churning column.

“I think that's a tornado, Melanie.” Seth watches. “You've created a tornado all by yourself.”

The whirling stones and dirt rise higher into a dark green and dreary sky, disappearing into a cloud. The whirlwind leaves a gaping hole in the earth. From the hole, dozens of great, black birds, much like ravens, fly toward Bryan. He swings with his swords but misses.

One of the ravens leaves the flock and lights beside Melanie. At it starts to spin, it becomes Nicol, dressed in veils, one for each color of the troupe's medallions. With each turn, Nicol lifts and releases a veil. When the wisp of chiffon floats into the sky, it becomes another bird and flies away. With five veils gone, Nicol is dressed all in black, holding Melanie's red veil. She grasps Melanie's hands, causing her to spin with her.

“You are one of us now, Melanie. Dance, dance, spin, spin.” The two girls are quickly pulled into the spinning core of earth just above them.

Each bird becomes a member of the troupe, flying in circles around the two dancers, singing in high, shrill voices.

Melanie tires and becomes dizzy. She wants to get out of the dance. She pulls away from Nicol.

“Oh, you can't go now, Melanie. You are one of us now. You must keep dancing.”

Suddenly frantic, Melanie looks for Bryan to help her. “Bryan!” she calls and looks down.

Just as he reaches up for her, Frau Voska appears. She strikes the ground with the huge baton she carries, opening a wide, bottomless crevasse.

Bryan slips and slides on snow around the edges of the wide hole. “Melanie, I can't—I can't reach you. And I'm falling—falling—falling—”

Melanie watches, horrified. She reaches out to Bryan. “Bryan, let me help you, help you. Take my hand.”

“I can't reach you, Melanie.” Deeper and deeper, he slides into the hole, all the while reaching up to her.

“Bryan, Bryan,” she screams. “Take my hand!”

Bryan slides into darkness and Melanie realizes she is all alone. But Madame Leona has been watching. Now Leona starts to laugh. Her voice echoes through the dark green sky and the billowing clouds, filling Melanie with incredible fear.

thirteen

S
HE WOKE UP
shaking. It was a dream, just a dream. But why—where had it all come from? She tried to remember.

The gargoyle necklace bumped against her chest as she rolled over. For some reason, she'd left it on last night. Had the necklace … no, that was silly. She had dreamed about swords because of those cards Paulie left. Because of Bryan being fascinated by all those swords on the wall of the antique store.