Radiant Oddities (Anomaly Saga #4)

9

Three hours later, Chandler and Alice walked into the grand party room.

Musicians wearing blindingly bright clothes played energetic music on the stage at the back of the room. There was a violinist, a drummer, a piano player, and, most impressively, Alice thought, a didgeridoo player.

The room was huge. Massive golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Refreshment tables lined the walls. Countless couples danced together. Some danced alone.

"I've never liked these kinds of things," Chandler said, reaching up to where his hat had been, then realizing his mistake and dropping his arms down again. Alice had made him lose the hat and comb his hair. He hadn't seemed too excited about that.

"Come on," said Alice. "Let's dance. We'll look suspicious if we don't." She led him out to the center of the room. She put her hands on his shoulders and they swayed side to side.

"So," said Alice. "What do you think?"

Chandler looked over Alice's shoulder. "Is that LaVarre over there?" he asked, and they spun around so Alice could see.

Sure enough, LaVarre strutted out onto the dance floor by himself, moving around and flailing his arms around in a way that Alice really could not call dancing. "Wow," she said. "He still has his gas mask on and everything."

"Weirdo," murmured Chandler. They danced in silence for a few minutes. The musicians changed songs.

"This is fun," Alice said. "Isn't it?"

"It's . . . nice," Chandler replied. "But I still wish I had my hat."

Alice laughed, but her smile dropped when she noticed something across the room. Something bad.

Greyhorn, looking as much like an owl as ever, danced with a dark-haired woman across the room. The woman wore a long black dress, and while she danced, she pulled a gun seemingly out of nowhere. Greyhorn saw it and jumped back, scrambling off. The woman pointed at the ceiling and the shot rang out.

Alice and Chandler just barely rolled out of the way before the chandelier above them crashed to the floor. The room descended into chaos, and Chandler drew his gun, too. The woman who had fired the shot was running away, and Chandler took off after her. Alice followed.

Chandler and Alice gave chase through the ballroom, jumping over a patron who had decided to curl up on the ground and cry instead of running away, and ducking under flailing arms. At one point, Chandler reached behind him and held out a hand, his other hand gripping his gun.

"There's a lotta room for error and little room to move," Chandler remarked. "Stay close." Alice nodded, her fingers finding his as she followed close behind. The pair zigged and zagged, their eyes never leaving the dark head of hair who waded through the chaos of the room.

"Appears she's right in her element," Chandler grumbled.

"Look, she's leaving!" Alice hissed. "We can't let her go. She could go anywhere once she leaves."

Chandler nodded, speeding between one last couple. Everyone had thankfully headed away from the woman and towards the larger entrance doors, meaning that once the pair had evaded the first major wave, it was smooth sailing from then on out.

Chandler let go of Alice to reach up and grab his hat, which wasn't there. It was strange going on a mission without it, that's for sure, and he definitely missed the way it made him feel pretty darn cool.

Meanwhile, Alice hastily took off her dress shoes and sped up. She wasn't fooling around anymore. She held one like a weapon, hoping the dull heel would be strong enough to do some damage. Neck and neck, she and Chandler reached the door the woman had left from, peering out into the hallway.

And there she was.

She was captivating, mysterious, and beautiful, like the moon among the stars. But alas, looks can be deceiving.

Something about her radiated a dark and elder presence, sly and dangerous. She stood against the wall, checking behind her periodically as she typed into a device on her wrist. Her gun was nowhere to be seen, but it was safe to assume she hadn't discarded it.

Chandler and Alice stayed low and quiet as they approached, the gun held firm.

"Do you know her?" Alice whispered.

Chandler shook his head. "Never seen her a day in my life."

Suddenly, the woman looked behind her again. Her eyes didn't widen in shock, but instead, her lips curled into a cocky smile. In her hand, the gun from earlier. On her wrist, the mysterious device no longer sat.

"If I were you," Alice spoke, waving around her discarded shoe, "I'd put the gun down."

At the same time, another voice boomed from behind. "No, Miss Sinclair," he said. "I think you two have overstayed your welcome."