“Better than by standing out for having an ill-fitting outfit,” she said. “Shayla chose her sabotage well. The Phoenix needs to be confident and elegant.”
She had a point.
If Shayla had thought to undermine me or throw off my focus by hiding my outfit, she would learn that Kyla Brannon could not be intimidated.
I stretched upward and then dipped down to touch the floor. When I straightened back up again, I felt strong. Like a tree with boughs that waved in the breeze but didn’t break—even in the most violent of storms.
I could do this.
Mama shuffled out of her room, her eyes bleary. She took us in with a frown, her eyebrows knit together. “What’s going on?”
Breanna flipped her hair. “Shayla stole Kyla’s costume to try to mess up her audition. We’re turning it around.”
Mama eyed us skeptically. “If you say so.”
Breanna laughed, grabbed my hands, and spun me around in a circle. “Let’s keep you hidden until it’s your turn to dance. I want to see the look on Shayla’s face when you take the stage.”
Breanna poked her head into our tent. “Aislinn’s dancing,” she said. “You’re up next.”
“How did Shayla do?” I asked, reaching up to pat my hair to make sure it was still in place.
Breanna jumped forward and batted my hand away from my updo. “Don’t touch anything. You look perfect.”
My stomach churned. “You didn’t answer my question.”
She shrugged. “Shayla did fine, I guess.”
I narrowed my eyes at her forced nonchalance. “She was flawless, wasn’t she?”
“No dance is flawless.”
Which meant Shayla’s was close. “No need for you to think about Shayla’s performance,” she said. “If you think she did too well, you’ll think you can’t beat her. And you can. And if you think she made mistakes, that will break your concentration, too, because then you’ll be worried about making mistakes. Just focus on your own dance. You look like the Phoenix. You’ll dance like the Phoenix too.”
I took a deep breath and cleared my mind. Breanna was right. How Shayla had danced was irrelevant. I couldn’t change that.
I could only focus on giving the council and Deirdre a spectacular show. The likes of which they’d never seen before.
“Let’s go,” said Breanna. She ushered me out of the tent, and we weaved through the encampment and toward the festival grounds. Though we passed a few Fintan in the camp—who cast us curious looks—most of the community had gone to watch the auditions.
We reached the festival grounds, and my heart beat in time to the music. I saw the stage in the distance. Aislinn was still dancing.
Liam sat on the end of the row, his eyes fixed on Aislinn, and I suppressed a smile.
The crowd that had gathered in front of the stage spurred my heart faster. It was a small number of people, no more than eight hundred—we had ten times this on a busy night at the festival—but I’d never danced for an audience in the daylight before. During the show, I couldn’t see the audience, and I could pretend they weren’t there.
Though I wasn’t usually nervous about performing in front of people, I knew that this would feel different, with the pressure so high. Especially since I could see each and every face.
Papa would be in the audience, I was sure. Even Mama had come to watch. My whole world was here, except for Nolan.
And Nolan’s family, I decided. They were part of my world too.
Focus, I scolded myself.
We arrived at the back of the crowd just as Aislinn executed the last maneuver, throwing her wand in the air and whipping into a somersault. Her landing was shaky, and as she reached up to snatch the wand, it slipped between her fingers and landed with a thud on the ground.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and Aislinn’s cheeks flared red as she bent over, grasped the baton, and raised it aloft to strike the final pose two beats too late.
Liam’s shoulders slumped. He knew as well as I did that there was no recovery from that kind of mistake. Not in this audition.
I felt sick to my stomach for Aislinn. As much as I wanted to win, I hadn’t wanted anyone to feel devastated about their performance.
Except Shayla.
But especially not Aislinn. She was my competition, but we were good friends. And she rarely had a bad word to say about anyone.
The crowd applauded politely as Aislinn walked offstage. She kept her head high and her shoulders straight, but I knew she’d burst into tears as soon as she made it backstage.
I heard Deirdre’s voice from the table in front of the stage. I couldn’t see her, but I knew she was sitting there to judge the audition, along with four members of the council.
“Kyla Brannon,” she called.
Breanna squeezed my arm. “You’ll do great,” she whispered. “I’ll follow you up and grab the props.”
I nodded and glided forward, putting Aislinn’s disastrous error out of my head. If I dwelled too long on it, I risked making the same mistake.
The crowd murmured when they realized I was moving toward the stage from the grass instead of entering from behind the curtain. The murmurs grew in volume when they took in my outfit.
Shayla was sitting in the second row, I supposed since she’d already finished her audition. Her mouth dropped open, and she shot me a look of disgust. I reveled in that look, used it to fuel my determination. Her sabotage would not get the better of me. Not today.
I climbed the stairs, reached center stage, and stood straight and tall, facing the judges. Breanna disappeared behind the curtain.
Deirdre raised her eyebrows at me, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Looking festive today, are we?” she said.
“It’s a festive day,” I said airily.
Breanna darted back out onstage, handed me the fans, and clapped me on the shoulder. Then she jogged down the steps and stood off to the side, watching.
I would make her proud today.
Deirdre chuckled and nodded at me. I struck the first pose.
As the first flowing notes of Scarlet Moon washed over me, I focused on nothing but the sound of the music and the feel of the fans in my hand. I’d practiced this routine until my toes bled and my feet felt numb. It didn’t matter that I could see the crowd. Or that everything hinged on this performance.
Nothing mattered except the rhythm of the music and the beat of my heart.
I took the first steps, steady and sure. And then I merged with the music and danced as an extension of the notes flowing from the violins.
From one beat to the next, I danced, unaware that anything in the world existed except for this moment, this tiny sliver of reality.
I was movement. I was art. I was fire.
The first part of the dance came to a close, and I swept off the stage to hand off the fan and grab the baton. Then the violins began singing again, and I burst through the curtain and soared into a tour jeté.
Again, I lost myself in the flowing movement, the cascade of notes that washed over me.
I came back to myself as I prepared for the final move of the dance. The audition had gone well. Better than I could have imagined. But to vault myself beyond Shayla, I had to execute my magecraft perfectly. At just the right moment. With just the right amount of power.
I swallowed. It was almost time for the somersault.
I threw the wand high in the air and jumped, tucking myself into a clean somersault and landing on my feet. When I caught and raised the two-headed wand, I flicked my wrist and felt the sparks surge upward out of the wand as if they were an extension of my own body. They burst into the air with a crackle, the embers drifting around me like phoenixflies.
I struck the final pose, wand held high, hip cocked to the side. A wide smile flooded my face. The crowd was silent for a moment, and then the cheers began, and one by one, they stood to their feet. Deirdre stood last of all, but she smiled as she clapped for me.
If they gave it to Shayla
after this, there was nothing I could have possibly done to win it.
My eyes searched out Breanna’s, and I swore she was crying as she clapped. But she had the biggest smile I’d ever seen. You trained me so well, Breanna. Tears threatened to well in my eyes, my emotion rising to match my sister’s. I blinked them back. It wouldn’t do to cry. Not after such a triumphant moment. Not in front of so many people.
I met Papa’s gaze, too, and he beamed at me, his eyes misty. Even Mama seemed impressed.
I bowed and then turned and walked backstage, the curtain swishing as I pushed through it. Ciara was waiting on the other side of the curtain, and I slapped her outstretched palm. “You’re up next?” I asked.
She nodded, her lips pulled into a grim line.
“You’ll do great!” I called. Then I pulled up short. Aislinn sat slumped at the back of the tent, alongside the props. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
“Hey,” I said softly.
She wiped her cheeks with her wrist. “How’d it go?” Her voice cracked.
“Quite well,” I said. “Thank you. Are you okay?”
She shook her head fiercely. “I messed up. At the most important moment in the dance.” Her lips trembled.
I walked over and eased myself down to the floor beside her. “I’m sorry. I guess there isn’t anything I can say to make it better, is there?”
She shook her head and leaned up against my shoulder. “It won’t be so bad,” she said, her voice tight. “I can dance in the troupe another year or two and then retire and find a husband. It was always going to go to you or Shayla anyway.”
“You don’t sound like it’s alright,” I said.
She hiccuped. “I’m trying to think of anything that will help me not feel so miserable.”
“Oh, Aislinn.” I kissed the top of her head. “You’re a lovely dancer. It was just one mistake at a bad time. We all make them. It could have been any of us.”
She sniffled. “Thank you.”
I sat up a little straighter. “Let’s go. We’ll make some chamomile tea. How does that sound?”
She laughed and wiped at her eyes again. “You’re just trying to cheer me up.”
“I mean, sure. But tea sounds pretty good. I think my nerves might actually be on fire.”
“Tea does sound good.” Her voice was still weak. But I hoped the tea would take at least a little edge off her misery.
“Come on,” I said. “We’ll find Breanna and go to her tent. She always makes the best tea.”
“What about deliberations?” she asked. “You’ll want to be here when they announce.”
Outside the tent, Deirdre yelled, “Ciara Murray!”
I glanced up, and Ciara fairly floated through the curtain.
I waved my hand. “There are still a couple dancers left, and you know they’ll take a while to deliberate. We’ve got at least an hour.”
She sniffed again. “Okay.”
We sneaked out the back, and her eyes trailed down to my long skirt. “What are you wearing? Is that Breanna’s costume?”
I grimaced. “My troupe outfit went mysteriously missing this morning. Don’t want to name my suspects, but—”
“It was Shayla,” she said dryly.
The musicians struck up the first notes of Scarlet Moon again.
“That’s my guess.” I chuckled. Even Aislinn, the sweetest of all of us, had no patience for Shayla.
We rounded the tent, and I spotted Breanna at the edge of the crowd.
Aislinn toyed with the ends of her dirty-blonde hair as we walked up to Breanna. “Let’s go.” I nodded toward camp. “Aislinn could use some chamomile tea.”
Breanna turned sympathetic eyes on Aislinn. “Of course, my dear,” she said, pulling her into a hug. “I’m very sorry about that stumble.”
I thought Aislinn might be about to cry again, so I started walking backward toward the encampment. “Come on!” I said. “Need to get the water boiling quick so we can be back in time for the announcement.”
The three of us began the short walk back to Breanna’s tent, and Breanna sidled up beside me. “What did you do?” she whispered in my ear.
My brows furrowed. “What—” Oh. The magecraft.
“Would you believe me if I said lots of practice?” I murmured.
Her expression could only be described as nonplussed.
“We’ll talk about it later,” I said quietly. “I didn’t break any rules.”
That seemed to satisfy her, and a moment later she nudged Aislinn and whispered, just loud enough for the three of us to hear, that even if she didn’t win Phoenix, the next show we were learning had three solos that troupe dancers could audition for.
Aislinn brightened a little at the news. She and Breanna fell into conversation as we made our way through the encampment, and I allowed my voice to fall silent.
My mind was whirring. Nothing I could do would impact the outcome now. I could only wait and hope that what I’d done had been enough.
I was powerless. And I wasn’t sure if that relieved me or just ramped up my agitation.
My eyes drifted to Aislinn. At least I had the comfort that I’d done well. My heart ached for her.
It seemed wrong that there was room for only one of us to advance. That this competition was the pinnacle of our whole lives. That after this, one of us would have reached the peak, and the rest would go home disappointed, unable to hope for an opportunity for anything more prestigious in the future.
I wanted success. I craved it in my blood. But I didn’t want my success to mean Aislinn’s failure.
And I hated that it had to be that way.
Chapter Nineteen
Aislinn seemed more settled and at peace when the noise of cheers rang out from the festival grounds. The three of us sat upright, our eyes wide, all traces of serenity disappearing from our faces.
Had the judges reached their verdict already?
As one, we stood and bolted out of the tent, sprinting at top speed toward the stage.
I reached the grassy field first and stopped. Deirdre was onstage, looking around like she was annoyed by something. Shayla was jogging up the steps toward Deirdre.
I continued toward the crowd at a brisk—but somewhat more ladylike—pace. My heart stuttered, taking in Deirdre, Shayla, the crowd. They must have announced.
And Shayla had won. I’d worked harder than I’d ever worked, performed at the peak of my ability, and still lost. Even with the use of magecraft. Disappointment threaded its fingers through my head, threatening to cave in my skull.
Then Deirdre’s eyes locked with mine, and she smiled.
I didn’t dare smile back. Not yet. Not until—
“There she is!” Deirdre called. “Kyla Brannon, come on up.”
Shayla reached the top of the steps and then turned around and stared at me. Distaste lurked there, in her face, but it passed, and she mustered a winning smile.
What the blazes is going on?
I couldn’t think of any reason Deirdre would call us both up. Deirdre was exacting, but not cruel. She wouldn’t parade one of the losing girls before the crowd. Then an explanation hit me: maybe Shayla and I would have to perform side by side before the judges finalized their verdict. Plastering a smile on my face, I sashayed up toward Deirdre and Shayla, trying to exude just the right amount of confidence.
I climbed the stairs and narrowed my eyes at Deirdre. “What?” I mouthed.
She motioned me over with her head, and I hurried to stand at her side. Deirdre turned to look over the crowd. “I am pleased to announce,” she said, “that the council and I have come to a rather . . . unorthodox decision.”
My stomach churned. Oh no.
“For the first time in a hundred years, two poised, talented young women have demonstrated such keen ability that we have found ourselves unable to decide between them. Please welcome our next Phoenixes—Kyla Brannon and Shayla Sullivan!”
The whole world seemed to stop. I understood the
words Deirdre had said, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around them.
I was the Phoenix.
I. Was. The. Phoenix.
But so was Shayla.
Deirdre nudged me in the ribs, “Say a few words,” she whispered.
“What do you mean?” I hissed. This was all happening so fast. What was I supposed to say?
“Just about how happy you are,” muttered Deirdre. “You know.”
I didn’t.
The applause was dying down, so I took a deep breath and searched out the familiar faces in the crowd. Especially Breanna’s. And Papa’s.
I found him about halfway back, next to Breanna, beaming at me.
I’d made him proud.
I couldn’t wait to tell Nolan. But he was on a journey to a bigger market in the next county for some specialized tools for the smithy. We’d agreed to meet by the creek tomorrow after practice. I’d give him the news then.
I kept the smile firmly fixed on my face as I stepped forward. Took in a deep breath. The crowd quieted.
“Thank you so much,” I said, and realized I was warbling. My voice was off-balance. But I forged ahead. No time to calm my emotions. “This is a great honor, and I cherish the opportunity to follow in my sister’s footsteps and dance as the Phoenix.” My breath caught in my chest at the words. “I’ve worked hard for this.”
My eyes found Aislinn. “I know a lot of other girls in the troupe worked hard too. My only regret is that they cannot all be honored with this role. But . . .” I glanced to the side and offered Shayla a smile. “What a delightful surprise that my cousin and I have both been granted this honor. Fintan fire!”
“Fintan fire!” the crowd chanted.
From her spot next to Papa, Breanna nodded her approval. I couldn’t wait to discuss this turn of events with her. This day had been so unexpected. Dizzying.
I stepped back, and Shayla moved forward. Her words were similar to mine, without any hint of disappointment or disgust. We’d both worked hard to mask how we felt about each other. Not that it was any secret to anyone who knew us.
Shayla launched into her conclusion. “Thank you to Deirdre, for the wonderful dance training over the years. And to all of you, for all you do in making the festival happen. Fintan fire!”
Fire Dancer Page 11
