Dance of Shadows Read Online Free Page A

looking lost.
    “I thought it was here,” Elly said, glancing down the hallway full of dance studios. “But the door is locked.”
    “Maybe they locked us out because we’re late,” Blaine said.
    “Here, let me try,” Vanessa said. Using all her weight, she gave the door a firm push. It swung open, and the five of them hurried inside.
    They were in a large ballet studio. Mirrors lined the walls, reflecting the warm light and making the room seem endless. The entire student body was sitting on the floor, staring at them.
    “How interesting,” a woman said in a slight German accent, scrutinizing them. She was so short that Vanessa had barely noticed her. She was middle-aged, her body plain and squat, with thick legs and dull brown hair. “Your first day and your timing is already off.”
    “We’re sorry,” TJ blurted out. “We got lost.”
    The woman squinted at them. Her face was round and maternal like a country farmwife, her gaze stern, yet somehow still kind. “Let’s just hope your dancing is a little more elegant than your entrance. We have space for you—right—up—here.” She pointed at her feet.
    Trying to avoid everyone’s eyes, Vanessa led them up to the front of the room. Her RA, Kate, sat by the barre with a few girls, smiling sympathetically. Other students’ eyes met hers as she wove between them—girls with braids coiled into buns, tortoiseshell headbands and barrettes nestled into their hair, their lean shoulders bare beneath tight tank tops; boys in black jeans, white undershirts, and cutoff sweats that allowed a glimpse of rock-hard biceps and firm abs.
    None of them bothered to move to let Vanessa and her friends pass.
    Just before she sat down, she noticed a group of older girls leaning against the mirrors in the corner of the room. They were beautiful—long and languid—as they whispered to each other. All thirteen of them had sunburns, as if they had just come back from the beach.
    “As I was saying,” the woman up front said, clearing her throat. “My name is Hilda, and I will be your assistant choreographer.”
    Vanessa squeezed in next to Steffie, who smelled faintly of vanilla. She had noticed the older girls, too, because she said, “Someone forgot the sunscreen.”
    Vanessa was about to smile when Hilda caught her eye.
    “And now I’d like to introduce your choreographer, Josef.”
    A sinewy man with the compact figure of a dancer approached the front of the room. He looked young at first, but as he grew closer and his features came into focus, Vanessa realized he was probably in his late thirties.
    Hilda moved aside and Josef smiled, baring a set of charmingly crooked teeth. He ran a hand through his hair, which was wavy and brown, streaked with gray. He wore tight black jeans and a white V-neck tee with a lick of chest hair sticking out the top. Even though he was neither tall nor particularly good-looking, his presence filled the entire studio.
    “Well, here we are.” He spoke with a slight French accent. “At the apex of the world. Welcome.”
    With his words, the room seemed to lighten. Vanessa glanced around her and saw the other students smiling.
    “Every dancer dreams of attending the New York BalletAcademy, and rightly so. We are a school of dreams. Here, you will learn how to transcend this world. You will transform yourselves into fairies, princes, swans both pale and dark, wicked queens, and demons from the underworld. You will float like a cloud and disappear into shadows. The audience will think it’s a trick of the light, but all of you will know that you
are
the light. You
are
the music. You are nothing but movement.”
    The room was so still, Vanessa could hear him let out a breath.
    “Speaking of movement, I must mention that a quarter of the freshman class doesn’t make it through the first year. This may come as a surprise, as you have worked so hard to come here that you cannot even imagine the prospect of dropping out.” He paused, his