Page 1 of A Dance With Fire
1
Illegal Fae
10 years later...
Sometimes, Shula couldn’t stand the stench of smoke.
The way it wrapped around her lungs and threatened to suffocate them. It reminded her of another time, another life when she’d been someone,somethingelse. Yet it was smoke she inhaled deep into her lungs, and a smile she plastered onto her face as she peered behind the thick velvet curtains that separated her from the crowd.
“It’s a crush.”
Shula let the curtain flitter closed, blocking the assault of smells and memories. “Of course it is,” she responded to her friend, Fantasia, rather arrogantly. This was her sixth and final show of the night and the busiest so far. “Everyone wants to catch a glimpse of the infamous fire dancer.”
Shula had made sure of it; in the ten years since she’d joined Piriguini’s Traveling Circus, five of those years she’d juggled while dancing for coins or scraps of food. Then she moved up to doing simple parlor trickswhile dancing, until she ascended rank and became one of the most popular attractions in their pilgrimage.
It was rarernotto sell out an entire show. At least, that had been the case. Lately, tensions were high across the empire of Illyk, but that was nothing new. It was normal to see the emperor’s soldiers about everywhere they turned, and the men in steel armor never failed to create problems for the circus when they passed through the kingdom of Tuath.
The sight of them no longer made her as nervous as they once had, no matter that they’d gotten more aggressive and determined throughout the years. She’d lived with the circus so long, Shula no longer knew what it was to fear for her life. It was dangerous to deem herself safe when she really wasn’t.
She never would be.
Because Shula Azzarh was Fae in a world where it was illegal to be.
“Break a leg.” Fantasia squeezed Shula’s arm, bringing her back to her current reality. Her name had just been announced, which meant it was show time.
“Break yours first.” Shula slipped past the curtain before she could hear Fantasia curse out her reply. And once she stepped out before the crowd, her entire world shifted. Silence blanketed over the entire crowd because it was what her presence commanded.
Shula was under no illusions; she knew what she looked like, knew how beautiful she was no matter how hard she tried to diminish it so others would never know what she truly was. It was hard to hide the beauty of a Fae, and her low riding harem pants, sparkling top that cut off midriff, sheer veil that obscured half her face, and golden circlets around her wrists and bare ankles, did nothing to hide her allure.
For a moment, the only sound that echoed through the large tent were the soft jangles of the circlets sliding up and down her arms. Then there was a silence so profound that no one even dared to breathe. It was part of the magic of her act. She entranced like a snake charmer, and everyone sat at the edges of their seats to watch what she’d do next.
And she didn’t disappoint.
Fire erupted from her fingertips and soared high through the tent. Sharp bursts of heat flowed all around her, and then she began to move. Body undulating like the waves as she danced across the ground, stomach and arms rolling. This moment was magical. It coursed through her veins, a current of power that was desperate to be unleashed. With every breath she took and every snap of her wrists, fire encircled her body. It slithered like a snake, long lines of golden and red streaks lighting up the darkness.
The gasps were lost to her and so was the applause. In that moment, there was nothing but her confidence in the dance, in the way her body became one with the fire. She was flame itself, flickering movements and passion. Blazing heat and brightness. She captivated hearts just as easily as she could destroy them beneath the inferno of her sensuality.
Fire fell from her fingertips, drawing figures wherever she traced them. She knew the brightness illuminated her. She knew it made the dark of her skin glow like burning embers. It lit up her eyes. They were so enthralled with her and she with them.
She moved in tune to the rhythm of the drums resonating around her. She swiveled her hips, rolled her entire body to look like the flickering of flames. She was the Fire Dancer, her black hair billowing down to her waist. The bangles decorating her wrists slid up and down the length of her arm. Her feet stepped quickly, carefully, and each step was a quick succession on the ground that burned, leaving the markings of her footprints onto it.
As the tempo picked up, so did Shula’s body. She moved around, throwing fire balls through the air to form floating and flying figures. The beat of the drum became a savage thing inside her, through her bloodstream. She lost herself in the music, felt it rush through her, whispering in her ear, caressing her bare and exposed skin. The warmth of the flames grounded her. It lit something in her. Perhaps it was the magic of her very own blood that demanded release.
And as the final notes rang, she threw her hands above her and all the wisps of fire that danced freely joined together above, reforming and reshaping into a massive image behind her.
The finale would surely capture them all.
Her hands shot up at the same time the wildfire imploded upwards. It fragmented in streaks until they formed the blazing image of a dragon. The bursting sound of applause echoed through the tent just as sparks rained around her body.
Chest heaving, she dipped into an elegant curtsy and, in a swirl of silky skirts, walked away.
“I swear, they only come to see your big finish,” Fantasia greeted Shula on the other side of the curtain, her small button nose scrunched in amusement.
“It is a pretty great finish.” Shula wrapped her arms around her friend’s shoulders. “You know they come here to see you too, Fanny.” She knew she had to reassure her because Fanny was as delicate as she looked. As Shula’s exact opposite, she was small and rail thin and completely flexible. Her blonde hair was cropped near her scalp and her cutting, white cheek bones were covered in sticky glitter. Silk ribbons adorned her spandex clad body, red silk tied around her wrists that flowed down at her sides and looked like rivers of blood.
Shula hated how her mind thought of that. Of blood and fire and iron. There was little else that haunted her nightmares and she hated that the memories made an appearance while she was awake, too.
Shaking off her morbid past, she forced the smile to stay on her mouth. She hadn’t crumbled all those years ago, hadn’t given into what had happened then, and she wouldn’t do it now, either. She’d been a child then, alone and afraid, with nothing in her pockets but stolen pearls and the bloody night shift on her back. She was different now. The infamous Fire Dancer of Piriguini’s Circus. She’d made a name for herself and had been safely hidden from the emperor’s soldiers for years.
