Page 17 of Nightmare's Dance

Then we warmed up in the small backstage area, not saying much. I wanted to know more, but we were being observed and I didn’t want to make it any more obvious that I might actually be their princess than I already had. I still didn’t understand how that was possible, but maybe this Nic guy could fill me in. If I escaped. And it sounded like we really were in the dream world. Maybe I could rescue these women, too. It sounded like they’d been taken because of me. Clearly it wasn’t my fault. Even so, if I could help, I would. What kind of psycho kidnapped people because he was looking for someone specific?

Geraint’s insistence that I tell this Prince Nic guy that Baz hadn’t recognized me filtered back into my thoughts. I was missing so many pieces of the puzzle. My mind churned over the possibilities while I went through my warmup routine on autopilot.

Not coming up with any answers, I brought my focus back to the present. I might not survive tonight, but I didn’t want my death to happen because I was distracted.

The familiar burn of muscles as I stretched and warmed them up helped center me. The other women warmed up in near silence, their breathing coming in heavier gasps and the thud of feet hitting the ground as they jogged in place, or a soft grunt as they did pushups, were the only real sounds. Sweat odor mixed with the pervasive dusty smell.

Music struck up out front and the women froze, eyes going wide. The strains of a familiar song teased my ears, but instead of comforting, the sound sent tingles of disquiet through me. The music was familiar, but not quite right. It was as if an inept band played the song, but it wasn’t just that the occasional cord was wrong, or some note blown too hard. No, it was as if all of that had happened, and the music had simply shifted somehow. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I could see why the others were disturbed. I hoped it was simply the weirdness to the music that had them upset, and not some other sort of special torture.

Still, they didn’t speak, and our unseen observers lurked in the shadows, so I didn’t ask.

One of the flat gray people came back from the stage area. This one looked more feminine, with rounded curves and the suggestion of breasts.

“First act,” she barked.

The women seemed to have a set order, and I’d been told to go last, so I finished my stretches as one of the girls closer to my age went onto the stage.

I heard no clapping, no sounds from the audience, and no announcer. That, by itself, was a nightmare for a performer.

Glancing around the edge of the curtain, I saw the woman standing on a large gray ball and juggling while she rolled around. She wore a gold sequined costume that would have looked fantastic under proper stage lighting. The audience stared vacantly like a class of uncaring students with an especially boring teacher. The performer was fantastic, but no one seemed to care. Not that I hadn’t had an idea of why they might not want to get on stage before, but I was getting an idea of how bad this really was going to be.

For Geraint. I could do it for Geraint.

Time dragged, and each woman came back from their act, looking defeated. The others crowded around, assuring her she’d done well, but even to me, their words sounded hollow.

Finally, it was Paige’s turn. She shot me an indecipherable look before she headed onto the stage. By the props waiting for her, she had some sort of gymnastic bars routine.

I watched, but it was the same. She performed brilliantly, but no one made a sound. The music stayed constant through the entire show, the disturbing, not quite right song on repeat, as if it were the only notes the band knew. Maybe that was the case.

Paige finished, bowed, and left the stage.

Her apparatus vanished into a cloudy mist and silks dropped from the top of the tent. They ended in the ever-present black fog, and I suspected they weren’t actually real or attached to anything.

Wishing for a crash mat or a way to avoid this, I took a breath and steeled myself.

“Word of advice,” Paige whispered. “Despite the lame audience, dance as if your life depends on it.”

She didn’t need to elaborate, and I nodded sharply once before going onto the stage. I took a moment to scan the crowd. Geraint wasn’t among the beings I could see. Was the escape plan still on?

“I believe our new princess needs some instruction on how these shows work,” a cold, familiar voice said, and Prince Baz stepped out of the shadows, dragging my knight with him.

Geraint gave me a quick nod before Baz threw him to the ground.

“You will entertain me, or I’ll find a way to make your act more interesting.” He grinned at me.

I shuddered and headed for the dangling silks. The familiar wet, clingy material stretched only a little as I grabbed with my hands and wrapped my feet, climbing slowly. I tried for sensual, but the best I could do was functional as I made my way up. It was surprisingly difficult to come up with a move to do. My brain blanked, and I simply couldn’t process anymore.

Not sure what else to do, I hung from my arms, scissored my legs around the silks and folded over into a hip key. This gave me some room to think, hanging sideways from where the fabric wrapped around my hips. I grabbed the tails and twirled them, putting me into a spin. Trying to get into the mood, I danced through a few shapes while I hung there, increasing and decreasing the rate of my turn.

“Unacceptable,” Baz said, and the silks freaking vanished.

My heart leaped into my throat, and I yelped as I fell. Anger burned through my fear. If I splattered on the ground, I didn’t want my last emotion to be panic, and he’d done this to me before.

Sure enough, tendrils of shadow snagged my limbs before I hit the ground, jerking my body, and threatening to give me whiplash.

“Try again.” His bored tone threatened more of the same.

Unacceptable, my ass. It wasn’t an advanced move, but I’d like to see him get up there and do any of what I’d just done.

---