The First Dance

Excerpt from the novel,

The night of the ball arrived on a cool, clear evening. The stars were beginning to poke their lights through the blazing sunset, and a calm breeze had settled over the island. The ocean was in turmoil, slapping the cliffside with raw power and soaking the edges of the jagged cliffs with salty spray.

Aliyah was ecstatic, of course. She skipped with no hesitation to the tall doors in her frilly purple dress that she had been so excited to wear.

But I felt quite the opposite. I had been dreading this for days.

As I stood there on the pathway, anxiety began gnawing at my gut. Even from outside of the hall, I could see lights flickering through the windows. I could hear voices rumbling through the wall.

My black dress felt awkward on my angular body, and the heels Aliyah insisted I should wear tripped me every couple steps. None of it was right… I had never even worn a dress before. Sure there were times when I wanted to, but we simply never had that kind of privilege.

The only reason I had this dress was because it had been given to me for free. But something about it felt so… wrong. It was certainly not a gift. No, it was a bribe.

And yet, here I was, still wearing it. Because these people were the only ones who could help Aliyah.

The little girl bounced up to me, twirling in her purple dress. “Let’s go!” she exclaimed impatiently. “Kat is waiting for me.”

“Kat?” I murmured absentmindedly through clenched teeth.

“Yup, she’s my best friend now,” she grabbed my hand. “So come on, let’s go!”

I clenched my jaw. Waiting around would only make it worse. How awkward it would be to walk in late…

Slowly, I forced my legs to move. I trudged to the door, forced my hand up, and pushed it open.

A wave of sound and light washed over me. There were twinkling flakes like tiny stars shimmering as they drifted lazily through the air, and the strips of floor lighting were glowing a gentle gold to match the sunset.

The ballroom was enormous. The roof stretched high over my head with a sparkling chandelier hanging down from the center, and the walls were encrusted with shimmering gold. Everything was decorated perfectly, from the red curtains draped over the tall windows, to the set of stairs all the way across the long room, which led up to a huge stage with its own ambient lighting and velvety red curtain.

People were everywhere, jammed between the long tables and the square tile space right in the middle of the room. Their voices– the obnoxious laughter, the mindless chit-chat– rattled my eardrums.

Aliyah patted my hand, said, “Good luck,” and then raced across the room.

“Ally, wait!” I whispered.

She was gone already, meeting up with Kat at the dessert table.

Movement from across the room caught my eye. The grouchy face of Harlan was peeking out from the stage curtain. He waved his arm back and forth frantically. When our eyes met, he gestured for me and disappeared behind the curtain.

I gulped hard but forced myself across the room, my feet feeling like lead. Already, I could feel several eyes from all across the room snapping towards me. People gathered in groups, whispering to each other. My skin began to feel hot.

I lowered my eyes and hurried up the steps. I ducked behind the curtain.

There was a dark little room in the back, full of stage props and a few instruments. Several people were scattered about, speaking to each other in low tones. The moment I entered, all eyes flicked up to me. The chatter grew more excited.

Harlan reached out and started straightening the wrinkles in my dress.

I slapped his hand and shouted a bit too loud, “Hey!”

He drew back with a glare, then left and approached one of the men standing in front of the curtain. The two exchanged a short conversation, and I was very aware of their glances flicking up towards me. The other man stepped through the curtains and onto the stage. The moment he disappeared, the babbling outside quieted, replaced by the sound of him speaking.

A bit of relief washed over me when I noticed Hawthorne standing stiffly a couple feet away, in the perfect position where his face glowed in the sliver of light peeking between the curtains. He was dressed in a gray suit that stretched over his broad shoulders and thick arms.

I started towards him, but at that moment, the speaker on stage shouted his name. He stepped through the curtain to a roaring applause.

A woman appeared in front of me. She glanced over my plain, black dress and frizzy hair with a scowl. “They’re about to introduce you, so fix your hair,” she demanded.

I set my jaw and didn’t touch my hair.

“You want to look decent for the first dance,” she continued, glancing around distractedly.

My heart picked up. “First dance?” I questioned.

“It’s time!” she gasped.

Before I could utter another word, she shoved me towards the curtain. The speaker announced my name.

There was a long moment when I just stood there, unable to make my feet move. Then, the woman shouted, “Go!” and gave me a harsh shove.

I stumbled through the curtains.

A blinding light pierced straight through my eyes. The sound of cheering rattled my skull. Slowly, the surging crowd came into focus. Everything moved in slow motion for a moment, and I could hear my heart ramming against my ribs.

“The Vengeful One!” the announcer shouted.

It took me a second to realize he was talking about me. And they were all cheering for me. Their Vengeful One.

I found Hawthorne on the other side of the stage. Our eyes met, and everything snapped back into focus.

“The daughter of Basheva has returned with a hunger to avenge her mother and lead us from the ghastly claws of Hespis!” the announcer was yelling so loudly my ears began to ring.

The crowd went berserk. It was like watching a pack of wild animals. They stomped their feet and screamed and smacked their hands together. There was something so… vicious in their movements. For a split second, it almost seemed like they were reaching for me… crawling onto the stage...

To my horror, the announcer turned to me, and the crowd quieted.

“So,” he started. “I hear you go by the name Zenna, is that correct?”

Hundreds of people were staring holes into my body. My hands began to shake.

“Yes,” I croaked.

“It is a lovely name, but undoubtedly more popular amongst the… less fortunate population.”

Laughter rumbled through the crowd.

“Tell me, Zenna, what do you know about your mother?”

“My mother?” I questioned. It sounded like I was hearing my own voice through water. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” the announcer repeated. “Well, I speak for us all when I say Avil was loved and respected.”

A murmur of approval swept across the crowd.

“We all miss her dearly,” he continued. “And we are eager to see her properly put to rest.”

For the first time, my eyes met the announcer’s. A chill ran up my spine. He quickly snapped his squinty eyes back to the crowd below the stage.

“But now, without further ado,” he continued. “I have one last person to introduce.”

The crowd immediately hushed in an anxious silence.

“He has finally returned to be with us tonight, and he is here to meet his daughter for the first time in eighteen years…”

What he said took a few seconds to register. I suddenly couldn’t feel the breath in my lungs. Or the ground beneath my feet.

“May I introduce our fearless, our compassionate, our leader, Basheva Shawcross!”

The curtain parted, and there he was.

He paraded onto the stage with his arms open. He bowed, taking a moment to soak in the applause. Then, finally, he turned to face me.

I recognized his face and his bright green eyes, because they were mine. His hair was black just like mine, falling down to his shoulders. He wore an elaborate black tailcoat plastered with more gems and jewels than I had ever seen in my life.

He started towards me, arms extended. Maybe it was the dumbfounded shock, but I let him embrace me. His pungent smell nearly made me gag. The crowd screamed.

I don’t know what I was expecting from this man, but his touch was cold and hollow. He leaned back, a superficial smile glinting on his face with teeth that were too white to be real.

“Isn’t that just touching?” the announcer said, though his voice sounded strangely fuzzy. He approached the two of us with his hand placed over his heart. “So tell me, Basheva, are you well rested after your ‘escape?’”

The crowd rumbled with laughter at some inside joke I didn’t understand.

Basheva turned back to the audience, leaving one arm wrapped around my shoulders. “I am indeed,” he replied. “And now that I’m here, and my daughter has returned,” he squeezed me, “It is time for us to reclaim our rightful places in Knoxen City. I promise you, our normal lives are within our grasp. And my daughter and I will make sure every one of you is well compensated for your struggles.”

“Allow me to ask the question I’m sure everyone is wondering,” the announcer replied. “What is the next step in your plan for compensation now that Miss Shawcross has returned?”

Miss Shawcross. Something about the name made my throat tighten.

Basheva guffawed. The sound was so loud and so close to my ear, I felt my skull rattle. He finally lifted his arm off my shoulders and gestured out to the crowd. “Well, my next step is to enjoy this lovely celebration and the good company before me. We must not become so wrapped up in the future that we forget to enjoy the good before us, correct?”

The crowd and the announcer belted out a hardy laugh. Once again, the joke felt beyond my understanding.

“I like the way you think,” the announcer chuckled. “So what do you say we begin?”

Basheva nodded. “A wonderful idea.”

The announcer turned back to the audience, all of whom were now leaning forward with their lips pursed. “Ladies and gentleman, it is now time for the first dance of the evening.”

Basheva extended a hand towards me expectantly.

I stared blankly for a moment, and then realization hit. Before I could pull my hand away, Basheva snatched it. He led me down the steps and through the crowd as they parted, leaving a large, empty circle in the middle of the floor. As we passed, I could hear mutters and see shifty eyes staring at me.

Basheva abruptly halted right in the center of the mob, and I nearly tripped.

He drew closer. He tucked one hand behind his back and set the other on my side. My skin crawled. There was a moment when we stood there in silence. Every fiber of my being wanted to shove him away and run. But there were people everywhere… watching. My legs refused to move.

The orchestra started.

Basheva began to sway. I followed him blindly. Back and forth, side to side.

The entire time, I was acutely aware of him staring into me, and I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. That smile never left his face.

We spun until I was dizzy.

“If I heard correctly, they call you Zenna now?” Basheva finally spoke.

His voice made me jump. At first, my mouth just flopped open wordlessly. My attention was sucked into the crowd, their faces blurred.

“Yes,” I finally managed.

Basheva hummed deep in his throat. He extended both our arms up and down a few times, then spun me beneath his elbow. I wasn’t expecting the movement, and I hoped nobody could see the way my ankle buckled.

Time seemed to stretch on, every second passing in heavy steps. Every whisper of the crowd felt magnified. Every eye pierced me, and Basheva’s fingers felt as if they were burning a hole through my skin. Every single muscle in my body was on fire, ready to run, but I could barely move on my own will.

“Avil and I planned to name you Jezebel,” Basheva extended his arm, pushing me farther away, and we circled for several beats, like animals stalking each other. He pulled me closer, then away, then closer again. I was completely lost, and his firm grip on my hand and the harsh way he shoved me told me he knew.

“Your mother would have taught you to dance had circumstances been… different.” Basheva continued. His voice turned wistful. “She was a wonderful dancer.”

Against my will, a picture of me and my mother popped into my head. She was leading me through the steps of the dance instead of Basheva. But I had no idea what my mother looked like, so it was a fake mother. She was a beautiful woman, with perfect, straight black hair and no frizz. She always had a gentle, warm smile on her face.

Basheva leaned down and dipped me over his arm.

“I am going to bow to you at the end of the dance, and you will curtsey back,” he whispered.

I shot him a confused look. I didn’t even know what a curtsey was. Before I could question, he lifted me back upright.

The music ended. Applause filled the room.

Basheva didn’t step away immediately. Instead, a huge grin split over his fake teeth, and his eyes passed over me. “You are going to make your mother so proud.”

He removed his hand from my side and finally backed off. Immediately, I felt the weight on my chest lift. I finally breathed out.

Basheva dipped his head down in what I guessed was a bow. Panicked, I did the same.

I just managed to catch the grimace passing over his face as he turned around and bowed to the crowd. They flooded the dancefloor with a wave of excited chatter, surrounding us. The music started again.

I managed to sneak through the throngs and hide at the back of the room, beside one of the long tables. There was a pitcher of water on the table. I poured myself a glass, hands shaking so violently I accidentally spilled some, and then chugged. The cool water felt amazing in my dry mouth.

I stood there for a spell, leaning against the chair for support, and watched the dancing couples. They spun in a flurry of boisterous skirts, all moving in perfect sync to the upbeat, graceful music, like they had practiced all their lives.

A familiar face caught my eye. Aliyah and Kat were sitting at one of the tables on the other side of the room. I hurried over and found a seat beside them.

“Zenna!” Aliyah gasped, shooting up out of her chair as soon as she saw me. “That was so beautiful! I didn’t know you could dance like that!”

“I can’t,” I replied through gritted teeth.

“I wonder when they’re bringing the food out,” Kat interrupted. “I’m starving.”

As if he had read her mind, the announcer stepped back onto the stage. The song ended, and the dancers slowed to a stop. Everyone’s attention turned to the stage.

“If we will all take a seat, I am happy to announce the food is ready!”

Satisfied murmurs rumbled through the crowd, and they made their way to the tables. To my disdain, a random woman in an odd hat and a huge, poofy dress flopped into the seat beside me.

“Hello!” she exclaimed and shook my hand violently. “It is so nice to finally meet you!” She continued to blab on, but my attention wavered when men dressed in all black began to fill the tables with silver dishes.

Wonderful smells reached my nose. My mouth watered.

“Before we begin, I would like to propose a toast.”

The chatting quieted, and everyone's eyes turned to Basheva, who was standing at the head of the table. He raised his glass.

“To young Hawthorne Williams, the one who brought my daughter home to me so she can fulfill her destiny. You have my immense gratitude, for none of this would have been possible without you.”

I scanned the tables, and finally, my eyes fell on Hawthorne across the room. His face remained completely blank, eyes fixed on Basheva, even as the entire room lifted their glasses and yelled his name.

“Let the feasting begin!” Basheva exclaimed.

All at once, the servers pulled off the lids

Clouds of steam billowed from the plates. In front of me was more food than I’d ever seen in my life. Meats, vegetables, fruits, and all kinds of breads. Most of the food I’d never even seen before and had no name for. And it was all waiting for my grasp.

The woman next to me laughed as she dumped a serving of white paste onto her plate. “I guess this isn’t the type of food you’re used to!”

Aliyah began to shovel loads of whatever she could reach onto her plate.

“Woah, woah,” I said, catching her by the wrist. “Aliyah, listen. You’re not used to this type of food. If you overdo it, it could make you sick.”

“Come on, Zenna,” she argued. “When are we ever going to see something like this again?” She continued to snatch up a few rolls of bread.

As I glanced around at the endless options, I found it hard to argue with her. I didn’t even know where to start.

I scooped a few spoonfuls of whatever the colorful dish on my left was, and then continued with everything around me. I tried my best not to overwhelm myself. It wasn’t easy though; my stomach was growling, and everything smelled heavenly.

But that impression only lasted a few bites into the meal.

All the food was overpowering. It was either so sweet my jaw ached or so powerful I almost had to spit it back up. Even the vegetables didn’t taste like vegetables. They were coated with different flavors and felt slimy. And yet, with so much food right in front of me, I still ate until I felt bloated.

Aliyah and I were some of the last people eating. Everyone had begun to flood the dancefloor as beautiful music filled the air.

“Come on, Aliyah!” Kat shouted next to me. The girl grabbed Aliyah by the arm and dragged her into the crowd.

“Wait, Ally!” I called, but the two girls disappeared behind a group of couples.

I pursed my lips and leaned back in my seat. I was alone once again. But it was a nice kind of alone. I could just sit here and recover. I was so overwhelmed, there were a few points where my eyes went blurry and I couldn’t bring them back into focus.

It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t seen Hawthorne since the toast dedicated to him. He was nowhere to be seen in the crowd, which was impressive considering he stood at least a few inches taller than everyone else.

As I was searching the ballroom, I noticed the couples on the dancefloor had stopped spinning. Instead, they were all staring in the same direction. There were a few gasps and murmurs.

“Disgusting!” someone shouted. “Get her away!”

My blood ran cold. I shot to my feet, knocking the chair out from under me, and raced to the commotion.

Sure enough, Aliyah was on the ground, knelt over a pool of vomit.

“Aliyah!” I shouted.

I fell to my knees beside her. Immediately, the crowd began to jeer.

A woman set her hand on my shoulder and bent down. “You’re going to soil your beautiful dress! Let our doctor Fayne take care of her.”

I shook her off in disbelief.

“I’ll go get Fayne,” Kat, who was patting Aliyah's back, said. “There’s a bathroom down the hall to the left you can take her to.”

Before I could respond, the girl rushed through the crowd.

I grabbed Aliyah's shoulders in my arms. When I stood, I saw the crowd had made a circle around us. I shoved my head down, trying to avoid the judgmental eyes. Their stares burned into my back.

We were almost at the hall, but Aliyah lurched. She keeled over. She landed on her hands and knees and curled over her stomach with her mouth open in a silent scream.

“Aliyah, come on,” I whispered. “We’re almost there.”

Another hand appeared on her shoulder. When I looked up, I was shocked to see Hawthorne. Wordlessly, he lifted Aliyah into his arms. He stood to face the crowd.

“We can take care of this,” his resonant voice boomed threateningly. “Please, return to your festivities.”

The group turned back to the dancefloor, whispering energetically, and I immediately felt the pressure of their gawking eyes disappear.

Hawthorne carried Aliyah through the set of double doors into a hallway of piercing, fluorescent lights. I scrambled after him. We turned into the bathroom.

Aliyah collapsed over the toilet and began to vomit. I stood behind her and rubbed her back, struggling to keep my own food down.

Finally, the door flew open again.

Fayne rushed into the stall, shoving me out of the way. I fell to the ground, too exhausted to pick myself up.

Fayne stuck a needle into Aliyah's arm.

Instincts took over. “Hey!” I screamed and launched myself at her.

Fayne tried to shove me away. “Get ahold of yourself! You’re going to hurt her!”

Strong hands seized my shoulders and gently pulled me back. “It’s medicine,” Hawthorne said right next to my ear.

Fayne finished injecting Aliyah with the liquid, and the girl slumped over limply.

“This will alleviate the pain long enough for me to get her back to my office and really treat her,” Fayne explained, placing the needle back into her bag. She leaned towards Aliyah. “Aliyah, you need to stand up. If you don’t, the medicine is going to wear off before I can treat you, and the pain will come back.”

Panting and shaking, Aliyah nodded. She pressed her hands against the walls and pushed. Her purple dress was now soiled. I automatically reached out to help her, but she shoved my hands away. She only managed a few steps on her own, then she tipped forward. I caught her before she could hit the floor.

Hawthorne leaned down. “I can carry her.”

He gathered Aliyah in his arms.

All of us shuffled back out into the hall. My heart began to thump as Fayne turned back towards the ballroom.

She marched right through the doors, but I stumbled to a halt. My mouth suddenly felt dry.

Hawthorne bumped into me from behind. The sight of Aliyah nearly unconscious in his arms spurred my legs on.

Without giving myself a chance to rethink, I pushed through the doors.

Everyone was still dancing, talking, and laughing like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. They didn’t even look up as we passed.

A sharp scent hit my nose, and I nearly gagged. “What is that smell?”

A grimace pulled at Hawthorne’s lips. “Alcohol,” he replied.

I furrowed my brow, scanning the crowd. Something wasn’t quite right about the numb, staggered way they moved. And there was Basheva, surrounded by a crowd of men and women as he slurped from a huge bottle. The liquid sloshed down his beard and over his shirt.

I ducked my head and kept moving.