Don’t worry, it sounds worse than it is. She’ll be fine and in her own bed tonight, but we won’t be returning to the party. But I want you to stay. Win that grand prize at midnight! Are you okay there? Are you having fun? Can you stay or do you need a reason to leave?
I look around, catching sight of Bayzon again out of the corner of my eye. Lurking but not approaching. Not talking to anyone else and sipping a drink. Remaining handsome in an antisocial, anti-hero kind of way.
He only has eyes for me.
I’m good. This is fun. I’ll stay. I’m on track to win this whole thing. Only about ten of us still have masks on. Also, the dancing just started.
You go girl. Win that prize. And I know how much you love dancing. Have fun!
Give Argylia a kiss for me.
Will do.
I tuck the tablet into my pocket. Couples step onto the dance floor. I remain on the edge and watch as the dancing begins, eager to learn how the Xylan dance and to try and join in. I chat with other nearby, costumed Xylan, who do their best to explain the moves to me. This species seems to prefer prescribed dances with formal patterns. Usually it’s male and female pairings, but not exclusively because some appear to be same sex. All the couples move together, near each other and usually hold hands, following the same steps.
I grab a flute of a bubbly alcoholic drink off a passing tray and take a few sips, trying to extinguish any last vestiges of shyness. Then I watch two dances the whole way through from beginning to end, swaying to the music, examining their footwork and movements before finally deciding I can do this too.
The drums pound through the cavern, vibrating in my chest. The melody is unlike anything I’ve heard before, haunting and driving at the same time, with an undercurrent that makes my hips want to move of their own accord.
“Would you like to learn how to dance?” a nearby male questions. “You look like you’re enjoying the music.” This Xylan is dressed all in white, like a professional chef from a fancy restaurant on Omega 9. But he isn’t wearing a mask any longer and I don’t recognize him because I don’t know that many beings at this ball. But I see that he glances back at Bayzon, who is now quietly standing on the opposite side of the dance floor from me. It’s obvious these two know each other. Interesting.
The male isn’t wearing gloves, letting me know he’s mated.
“Yes,” I answer, grateful for the opportunity to get started. “I would love to learn how to properly dance to Xylan music. It looks fun and I love to dance.”
He smiles. “Good. My name is Gorzan, but my crew calls me Cannibal. Let’s go.”
Then he takes my gloved hand and pulls me onto the floor and in moments we’re moving together fast in the midst of a lively dance. It starts swiftly and I’m laughing as I do my best to keep my footwork correct. Gorzan holds my arms tight and swings me around. But then we’re moving together, slower, next to dozens of other couples moving to the beat in neat rows. It’s wonderful.
“This is so much fun,” I gasp. “I can keep doing this all night.”
“I have a brother who also normally enjoys dancing, but tonight is not partaking,” he tells me. “It’s a sad state of affairs. I try to offer him delicious dishes of food to keep him happy but he’s still disgruntled.”
I can’t help but glance toward where Bayzon stands at the edge of the floor. He’s watching us. Watchingme. Even from here, I can feel the intensity of his gaze.
I crook an eyebrow as we move. “Are you going to ask your one question about my mask and try to discover my identity?”
“Yes, but really I’m asking this question for someone else.”
I shrug. “This is acceptable.”
And then we separate for a moment and walk around in a pattern that involves another nearby couple. In moments we are face to face again on the dance floor.
“Are you here visiting as a relative of one of the human females who is already mated to a fever brother?” he questions.
“No,” I answer truthfully. “Can I ask a question about your identity even though your mask is gone?”
“Of course.”
“Are you a chef or a miner?”
“A miner,” he laughs.
“Are you part of the fever brother crew?”
“Ah, that’s two questions. Not fair.” Then he glances toward the edge of the crowd surrounding the dance floor. “And I think I have to stop,” he says, right as the dance slows down.
“Why?”
