. . . the judges, who were also on their feet. My eyes widened, my mouth going dry at the sight of Lindy standing, Lindy applauding like she wanted to transcend the limitations of flesh striking flesh and become a whole drum corps all by herself. She dropped back into her seat, talking fast, like she wanted to be absolutely sure no one else was going to get a word in before she had her say.
“Valerie, I have always, always been hard on you, and I know you’ve hated me for it. No, don’t deny it—I know what it means when a girl smiles at you with eyes like ice. Well, honey, this, tonight, was the reason why. You were transcendent. For the first time in all the times I’ve seen you dance, you moved that body of yours the way I’ve always known you could.”
Lindy was known for yelling. Sometimes she got so close to the microphone when she did it that the feedback became physically painful. Not this time. Her voice was low, earnest, and utterly without bullshit. She sounded like she meant every word.
“I pulled for you to be in the top twenty of your original season, because I knew you had the potential to be amazing. And I’ve ridden you as hard as I could, because I knew you weren’t living up to that potential. Tonight, I saw that potential become reality. It was worth waiting for. Don’t make me wait for it again.” She started to sit back in her chair before apparently remembering Anders was there. Lindy leaned forward again, focus shifting to him. “Anders, you were clean and solid. Your footwork was good, and if Valerie managed to outshine you, it was only because she finally decided to wake up and start dancing like she should have been dancing from day one. You were both great tonight.”
She glanced at me one more time, and her smile was brief but more valuable than diamonds. Lindy approved of me. Maybe the world was coming to an end after all.
Clint said something complimentary and excited. I wasn’t really listening. Half my mind was taken up with reviewing what Lindy had just said, while the other half was scanning the theater, looking for signs of danger.
The audience was liberally dotted with heads in various shades of gold: the dragons had kept their word and infiltrated the place. I couldn’t see Dominic or Alice, but I knew they were there, sticking to the shadows and ready to move. My counter-charm was cool where it was taped to my inner thigh, despite the fact that I was sweaty and overheated. That was good: it meant it was still working, and I was still sharp . . . or as sharp as it was possible for me to be when I was dizzy from the lack of oxygen and trying to keep my professional smile plastered in place.
Someone was going to get eliminated. Someone was going to get attacked. It was on me to stop it from going any further.
“Valerie, Anders, you have no idea how disappointed I was when last week’s show put the two of you in the bottom,” said Adrian gravely. He leaned forward, looking between us. “But after seeing this, I have to say you deserved to be there. The fact that you could have been dancing like this, and chose not to, is disgraceful. You should be ashamed of yourselves, and you should be aware that if you make it through this week’s eliminations, I’m going to expect much, much more from you. I always thought the two of you were brilliant dancers. Now I know that you are artists, and I will not allow you to return to your previous ways. Do we have an understanding?”
“Yes, Adrian,” said Anders and I dutifully.
Adrian suddenly grinned. “Then I can forgive you. You were both brilliant tonight. Be proud of yourselves. America is going to remember why they loved you in the first place.”
Brenna hugged us both before going into her spiel about voting and keeping us on the air. I mugged and grinned for the cameras, but I wasn’t really listening. Somewhere in this theater there was someone who wanted me hurt, and I had no way of knowing who it was.
Anders took my hand when we were dismissed, and we ran offstage together. I was starting to think that things were going to be okay between us when we passed the dividing line between “public” and “backstage,” and he dropped my hand like it had burnt him.
“You made me look like an idiot out there,” he spat, whipping around to hit me with the full force of his glare. “All that praise? Was for you finally getting your head out of your ass. Thanks a fucking lot, Valerie.”
“What did you want me to do?” I demanded. “I couldn’t phone it in. Not with elimination on the line. What the hell do you want from me? First you wanted me to dance like my life depended on it, and now you’re mad because I did! Make up your mind.”
“Elimination is only on the line because you couldn’t bring your A-game before you screwed everything up!” Anders shook his head. “I hope you get eliminated anyway. I want a new partner.”
He turned and stalked away, leaving me to stare after him.
There was a soft knocking to my left. I turned. Pax and Lyra were behind me, matching looks of concern and confusion on their faces. I sighed.
“Anders isn’t happy with being in the bottom,” I said.
“You think?” asked Lyra. “We watched you on the monitors. You were amazing.”