Page 35 of Red Demon
“Alright everyone, most of you are likely familiar with the traditional waltz or free-form line dances. The Aetel waltz will fall somewhere in between. Leads, let’s begin by offering your right hand to your partner.”
Fabric rustled through the garden as we complied, and I studied Luzan’s modeled form and posture before I extended my hand. Lila mirrored the gesture, her hand warm and delicate in mine.
“Now, place your other hand on your partner’s back, about shoulder height. The top of the frame should remain poised, a bit more rigid than free form.” She modeled a range of movement, a bow, a turn, her upper spine and neck remaining straight. “Remember, this dance is all about connection and flow. Followers, move with your partner, feel their rhythm. Leaders—feel back.”
A brown-haired young woman leaned in to whisper to her partner, a broad-shouldered Chaeten man with a short-cropped cut in red and violet. He chuckled, glancing at me with an eyebrow raised. I grinned at them both until they looked back to Luzan.
Luzan clapped her hands once, the sharp sound cutting through the nervous chatter. Music drifted through the garden from panels lining the house.
“Alright, let’s begin. Basic waltz step: leads, one step forward with your left foot, close with their right. Followers, the reverse.”
The first few steps felt awkward, my feet stumbling into the rhythm while Lila nailed it every time. But Lila was patient with me, her movements fluid and light until I got it down. The music swelled, a gentle melody with a touch of Chaeten modernism underneath. I must have heard this song before a very long time ago—a part of my life reconnected through that music.
Luzan’s words echoed in my head: connection and flow. I forgot perfection and tried to feel it out. Luzan walked around, straightening Asher’s back, re-angling Mira’s arm. The pair shared a smile that eased like the dawn on both of their faces. When she got to me, she watched for several steps before nodding with a raised eyebrow.
Luzan’s cleared throat announced a change. “Now, for the improvisation! We will do the first three steps of the traditional waltz and finish with a five-beat improv.” She clapped out a beat and moved, ducking and spinning. “Lead your partners in any direction you choose; express yourselves! Remember, as long as you make it back to the start position on time, the move is correct.”
I winced. A playful smile tugged at the corner of Lila’s lips.
“Want me to lead the first time?” she whispered.
“Sure.”
With a gentle tug, Lila pulled me in a quick circle, then leaned back, her hand still clasped in mine. After a few iterations, I countered with a spin of my own, mirroring the playful glint in her eyes. Laughter bubbled up inside me, the tension of the unfamiliar dance fading away. This was … fun.
Across the garden, Asher and Mira fumbled, then Ash dipped to recover with a flourish. Their laughter echoed amid the music as they entered the next traditional steps with easy synchronicity. Mira seemed to anticipate each turn and spin, their bodies moving as one. A pang of joy tugged at my chest until that distraction almost had me stepping on some poor tulips. Lila glided away; I met her for the next measure.
My heart soared under the gentle spring sun, breathing in the floral wind. I spun Lila with playful abandon.
That’s when I saw a familiar Chaeten-sa enter the garden. Mahakal, his raven fluttering from the roof to land on his shoulder.
His presence hit like a physical blow. I could feel the sickening weight of guilt. I let go of Lila and closed my hand in a fist. Six years Mahakal had been gone—no word, no confirmation of the Red Demon’s death, no closure for the gaping hole in my soul. And here I was, twirling under the sun while she still breathed, a carefree interloper in my own stolen life.
I couldn’t dance another step. I whispered an apology to Lila and walked toward Major Mahakal without looking back.
Mahakal cocked his head as he stared, arms crossed, his flame red hair catching fire in the sunlight. He appeared as young-looking as when I’d first encountered him, but something was different. His eyes, once that feline yellow-green like the Red Demon, were gone. Okay, not gone, just void black, iris and all, like the bird who bobbed her head beside him. His fresh-modded eyes matched the dark, iridescent Chaeten leather he wore to the neck, where the actual raven perched above the winged lapel on his arm. I guess he thought his raven motif wasn’t subtle enough before deciding to extend it into his skull.
Beside him stood a man I recognized at once as Governor Solonstrong. Although this was the first time I’d met him, his chestnut brown face resembled Mira’s, as did his pine-colored eyes. He leaned into Mahakal’s tall shoulder to whisper as I crossed the garden, his attention fixed on his daughter, his eyes squinting into a laughing smile. Mahakal’s lips barely curled as he flicked his gaze to me.
I offered a polite salute to them both. “Good afternoon Major Mahakal, Governor Solonstrong.”
“Do I know you?” Major Mahakal said, one eyebrow raised. “You’re certainly handsome enough to remember.”
I exhaled, wondering if his memory actually sucked or if he didn’t want to go into the details in front of the governor. “Jesse Eirini. We ate together at Ryu’s Tavern when you were last in town.”
His face flushed. “Ah.” He turned away from the governor with an apologetic smile, then gestured down the garden path. A gentle wind combed the fresh grass, caressing away my sweat.
He dismissed his bird to the air, then led me under a willow at the far edge of the garden, as far as possible from the dancers. Vibrant blooms gave way to manicured hedges. The willow branches cast long shadows across his golden-brown face and black eyes.
“Did you kill her yet?” I asked.
“The Red Demon?” A flicker of frustration marred his features as he shook his head. “She’s been a shadow flitting through the outskirts of the empire for almost a century. The weeks-old intel you gave me that day was helpful in other ways, but she remains at large.”
“Fuck.” I no longer cared if I was being polite. “So where is she now, Major? Still in the Bend?”
“A wisp of smoke. No recent sightings.” He sighed, and the ice in his weird black eyes melted. “However, your information did lead me to dig deeper into the Crofton mine collapse.”
I remembered the ground rumbling under my feet, the dusty air. Mal. “What did you find?”
