To Break A Curse

Chapter 20

Oh no.

I try to turn away, but it's too late. He sees me.

"Illya, what are you doing?"

The panic instantly returns to my stomach.
"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" I try to turn it back on him.

He laughs. "No, I mean what are you doing sitting there? Come dance with us!"

"Oh!" Relief seeps through me. "I'm not a dancer. Wait— us?"

"Yeah. Fale, Mira, and a few others have been here for a while now. I almost didn't recognize Clary with her face paint. She told us you were over here, so now here I am, attempting to lure you into the festivities with my charm," he quips.

"Is that so?" I laugh. "But unfortunately I must decline, kind sir, for my dancing abilities would only embarrass you."

"Impossible! Everyone will be looking at me anyway," he says with a wink.

I scoff. "Well, in that case." Taking his extended arm, we make our way into the mass of moving bodies. It's best if I have Dirkin close by if Fale and Mira try to kill me for sneaking out.
Joining a row of dancers, he positions me so I'm standing directly across from him at arm's length. I crane my neck to peer down the line forming beside me, which appears to consist of women while Dirkin's row consists of men.

Where is Clary?

Looking back at Dirkin, the bright red paint seems to glow on his face, making his eyes appear black. They remind me of two dark embers amidst a burning fire.

He says something just then, but I can't hear him over the music and cheering.

"What? I can't hear you," I shout.

He leans down close to my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck. "Follow my lead."

A second later, the music dies down and restarts with a slow, dissonant melody.

No one moves until the sound of a single violin plays a high-pitch note, both harsh and beautiful that rings over the bustle of the square.
Distracted by the music, I jump when Dirkin's cold hand clasps around mine.

He just smiles and guides my hand up so they're seamlessly pressed against each other in the space between our shoulders. Then, he gracefully takes a step back and I do the same, hands parting before we step back together. Raising his other hand, I mirror his motion and keep my eyes on his as our fingertips touch. Swiftly, he lets down his hand and wraps the forearm of his other arm around mine so that our elbows loosely interlock, leading our steps in a slow circle until we have traded places. His intense gaze never breaks from mine as he pulls me in a step closer and our sides gently graze. Then, he steps back, and I quickly try to follow suit, but almost trip over my own feet. That's when the violin dips into a deeper pitch that progressively increases in tempo as the melody brightens. Matching our steps along with the beat, we alternate moving forward and backward until it feels like we're gliding, to the point where I'm struggling to keep up.

The corners of Dirkin's eyes crinkle as he laughs.
"Stop thinking so much, dancing's meant to be fun!"

"Easy for you to say."

"Let me show you how it's done," he shouts and he takes off with the music, suddenly twirling us around in circles with our elbows still hooked.
I shriek as we spin faster and faster, sure one of us is going to go flying off until we slow down to a stop, both laughing like children.

Around us, everyone's twirling and dancing, no longer in the orderly rows in which we started. Onlookers clap along with the beat, cheering us on as laughter fills the air.