CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
※ GALA ※
The dance floor was filled with people of all ages, laughing, chatting, and twirling to the music. Pausing on the edge of the floor, Gala took in the sight, her head spinning a little. Her foot tapped to the rhythmic notes, and she wanted to laugh too—at least until she felt mildly disoriented.
The sensation was just different enough that Gala realized she was experiencing something strange. Suddenly it hit her: the ale. This was what people referred to as being drunk.
Frowning, Gala considered the situation. According to what she’d read, drunk people did stupid things and did not act like themselves. She didn’t like the idea of that happening to her.
Closing her eyes, she focused on her body, consciously examining the effects of the drink. Instantly, she felt a reaction similar to the one that had been interfering with her Life Capture immersion earlier; it was as if some part of her body was working to dispose of all traces of alcohol. A few seconds later, she was completely clear-headed.
“May I ask you to dance?” a familiar male voice said, and Gala opened her eyes, surprised to find a man standing no more than two feet away from her.
It was the young man she’d seen at the ale merchant’s stall.
He beamed a bright smile at her, and Gala realized that he probably hadn’t seen the incident with the child. Otherwise, he might act cautiously around her, as some people now appeared to be doing.
Happy to be treated like a regular person, Gala gave him a smile in return. “Sure,” she said. “But you’ll have to teach me how to do it.”
“It will be my honor,” he said, offering her his hand. She took it cautiously. His palm was warm and a little damp, and Gala quickly decided that she didn’t enjoy his touch. Nonetheless, she saw no harm in dancing with him at a distance, as she saw other couples doing.
Walking onto the dance floor, Gala listened closer to the patterns in the music that was playing. She loved the structured aspect of the fast beat, the clever mathematical precision of the sounds. They pleased her ears tremendously.
Watching the other women out of the corner of her eye, Gala did her best to mimic their movements, trying to follow the rhythm of the tune.
“You’re a natural,” the young man said, and there was a note of admiration in his voice. “I don’t think you need any instruction from me.” He was moving his body to the music, but it didn’t seem like he was hearing the same melody as Gala because his version of dancing was much clumsier, almost awkward.
The melody changed, became quicker, and Gala could feel the corresponding increase in her heart rate. “Who wrote this beautiful music?” she asked, marveling that she could be so moved by simple sound.
The young man grinned at her. “It was Master Blaise, of course,” he said. “He’s a prolific composer. You haven’t heard his music before?”
Gala shook her head, her heart beating even faster at the mention of Blaise. She wanted him here with her, instead of this man whom she didn’t like very much. The fact that Blaise could make her feel things without even being there was amazing. Now that she knew he’d composed this melody, she was surprised she hadn’t realized it herself. Writing music likely required the same mathematically inclined mind that would be good at sorcery. Of course, there had to be more to such genius than that, and she doubted that every sorcerer was capable of creating such beauty. In a way, she and this music were alike, both being Blaise’s creations.
While she was pondering this matter, the man she was dancing with stepped closer to her. “What is your name?” he asked, leaning toward her. She could smell ale on his breath and a hint of something that reminded her of Esther’s stew.
“I am Gala,” she told him, moving away just a little.
He gave her a wide smile. “Very nice to meet you, Gala. I am Colin.”
Gala kept following the dancers’ movements, getting better and better with every step. In the meantime, her dancing partner kept fumbling and missing steps. It didn’t matter to her, though; she still found dancing to be a lot of fun. “You’re amazing at this,” Colin exclaimed when she executed a particularly complex move without missing a beat, and she grinned, pleased at the praise.
The song ended.
“Can I have the next dance?” Colin asked.
Gala nodded her head in agreement. The song that was starting next was even nicer than the first, slower and more melodious. However, before she could start moving to the music, her dancing partner stepped closer to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the other dancers doing the same, the men coming up to the women and putting their hands on the women’s sides and shoulders.
Gala frowned, taking a small step back. She didn’t want Colin that close to her. Something about this felt extremely wrong. There was only one person whose hands she wanted on her body, and he was back in Turingrad. “I changed my mind,” she told Colin politely, backing away further.
“Oh, come on, it’s just a dance,” he said, smiling and reaching for her. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she could feel the moist heat emanating from his skin. It made her stomach turn.
“Get your hand off me,” Gala ordered, tugging futilely at her wrist. He was physically stronger than her, and she was starting to feel anxious at the dark excitement visible in his eyes.
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that . . .” He was still smiling, but the expression didn’t seem the least bit friendly anymore.
“Let go,” she said a bit louder, and saw some people look their way. Her heart was pounding like it was about to jump out of her chest, and she felt like her skin was crawling from his touch.
“Don’t be such a grouch,” he muttered, pulling her closer. “It’s just a dance—”
At his refusal to let go, the volatile brew of emotions inside Gala seemed to explode, her vision blurring for a second. It was as though something inside her lashed out at Colin, and she could see him stumbling back with a look of shock on his face. A vile smell began to permeate the room, and Colin’s face twisted with something resembling shame and fear.
Her wrist finally free, Gala felt an overwhelming urge to not be there. And as Colin took a confused step toward her, she found herself standing just outside the dance floor, behind Maya and Esther.
“We should go,” she said, still feeling sick from the encounter—and shaking from the knowledge that she’d inadvertently done sorcery again, teleporting herself in full sight of all the dancers.
Esther turned toward her, looking startled. “Where did you come from? You were just there, dancing with that lad—”
“I want to leave,” Gala told her, rubbing her wrist where she could still feel the disgusting sensation of Colin’s touch. “I didn’t want to get close to him, but he grabbed me—”
“He grabbed you?” Maya gasped. “Why, that bastard . . . You should’ve kicked him in the nuts!”
“It looks like she did something to him,” Esther said, staring at the dance floor with a worried frown.
Casting a quick glance in that direction, Gala saw Colin walking off with a strange gait. “Let’s go,” she said, tugging at Esther’s sleeve. “I want to leave. He might be coming this way.” She felt unsettled and disturbed, and she wanted to get away from this place as quickly as possible.
“Of course,” Maya said, throwing a glare at the young man. “Let’s go home, so you can get some rest.”
Gala nodded, wanting nothing more than to experience the sleeping activity again. From what she’d felt before, it was not unlike some of the experiences she’d gone through in the Spell Realm.