The Heart Of Asariel

11 || Dance

With every step Micah took, his stomach seemed to flip, sloshing great waves through his insides to stir up the murky pool of emotion sunk in there. Nerves tumbled in circles, wild and electric. Eager hope leapt up to embrace them, its grip slippery but its movements endlessly lively. Fear swum near the bottom like silt, gritty in texture, scraping beneath his skin in a scattered storm.

And, of course, through it all was the streaming thread of music. It was unaffected by the currents caused by the rest, an unceasing call that beckoned him forward. Only Corinne's grip on his arm kept him from darting straight through the doorway of the Starving Serpent and into the heart of the song.

"You can let go of me, you know," he muttered to her.

"Perhaps I feel the need to keep you on a leash." Her tone was as flat as her dark gaze. She looked from him to the others, drawing to a stop just in front of the windows. "Are we sure about this?"

"No," Lilith said with a bubbling giggle, adjusting the pink collar of her jacket. "But we've got to try, right? No better option, and at least this way is a little fun."

With that, she reached for the handle, twisted, and marched inside. The music flooded out twice as loud with the door now half-open, resonating in the pit of Micah's stomach. He shifted from one foot to the other.

Rivo caught the door. "Try to blend in," he said, tree-bark eyes fixing on each of them. "I'll give the signal when it's time."

Without waiting for agreement, he too vanished inside, soon swallowed by the moving bodies inside. Micah saw no need to wait any longer. Yanking himself free of Corinne, he raced to follow.

The crimson lights hit him immediately. He had to stagger to a halt, blinking red specks from his vision, before he could properly take in the rest of the place. A tavern, Rivo had called it during their whispered planning session just round the corner. Rounded tables and stools had all been shoved carelessly to the sides, leaving the polished granite floor empty for the crowd. A few perched on the stools or leaned against the tables, engaging in shouted conversations with mugs of frothy liquid clutched to their chests, but the rest moved, twirling amongst each other to the music's frantic beat. He spied Lilith, deep in the throng, her bun dismantled into wild blonde curls as she spun around a taller woman draped in sunset reds. She already looked as if she belonged.

He started scanning for Rivo, but the pulse of the beat and constant movement was dizzying. His gaze landed on the source of the song instead. A trio in the far corner, one beating what appeared to be a set of several drums, his companions plucking with vigour at instruments armed with strings.

Nerezza played something similar, he was sure. He hadn't heard her perform in a long time, though. He clearly needed to coax her into bringing it out again.

Corinne's presence brushed in at his side. She seemed to clash with this world of colour, cloaked in navy with shadows clinging to her pale skin. Her jaw was clenched. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Hey. Shush. It's going to be fine." He gave her a gentle nudge. "All we have to do is dance."

She shot him a cold look. "I'm not dancing."

"How else are we going to blend in?" Before he could think better of it, he seized her wrist, shifting to backstep into the crowd as he tugged at her. "I can show you how."

"I know how, I just--" She sighed, gritting her teeth. Defeat hung in her downturned expression. "Fine."

"That's the spirit." A grin curling his lips, he tightened his grip on her and wrenched her towards him. She stumbled, but he caught her, his other hand lacing with hers. Another pair drifted past them, sealing off the exit.