Fire Dancer by Catherine Jones Payne

Author:Catherine Jones Payne [Payne, Catherine Jones]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: YA Fantasy, magic, fire, friendship, dance
ISBN: 9781946693136
Publisher: Fathom Ink Press
Published: 2019-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Aislinn seemed more settled and at peace when the noise of cheers rang out from the festival grounds. The three of us sat upright, our eyes wide, all traces of serenity disappearing from our faces.

Had the judges reached their verdict already?

As one, we stood and bolted out of the tent, sprinting at top speed toward the stage.

I reached the grassy field first and stopped. Deirdre was onstage, looking around like she was annoyed by something. Shayla was jogging up the steps toward Deirdre.

I continued toward the crowd at a brisk—but somewhat more ladylike—pace. My heart stuttered, taking in Deirdre, Shayla, the crowd. They must have announced.

And Shayla had won. I’d worked harder than I’d ever worked, performed at the peak of my ability, and still lost. Even with the use of magecraft. Disappointment threaded its fingers through my head, threatening to cave in my skull.

Then Deirdre’s eyes locked with mine, and she smiled.

I didn’t dare smile back. Not yet. Not until—

“There she is!” Deirdre called. “Kyla Brannon, come on up.”

Shayla reached the top of the steps and then turned around and stared at me. Distaste lurked there, in her face, but it passed, and she mustered a winning smile.

What the blazes is going on?

I couldn’t think of any reason Deirdre would call us both up. Deirdre was exacting, but not cruel. She wouldn’t parade one of the losing girls before the crowd. Then an explanation hit me: maybe Shayla and I would have to perform side by side before the judges finalized their verdict. Plastering a smile on my face, I sashayed up toward Deirdre and Shayla, trying to exude just the right amount of confidence.

I climbed the stairs and narrowed my eyes at Deirdre. “What?” I mouthed.

She motioned me over with her head, and I hurried to stand at her side. Deirdre turned to look over the crowd. “I am pleased to announce,” she said, “that the council and I have come to a rather . . . unorthodox decision.”

My stomach churned. Oh no.

“For the first time in a hundred years, two poised, talented young women have demonstrated such keen ability that we have found ourselves unable to decide between them. Please welcome our next Phoenixes—Kyla Brannon and Shayla Sullivan!”

The whole world seemed to stop. I understood the words Deirdre had said, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around them.

I was the Phoenix.

I. Was. The. Phoenix.

But so was Shayla.

Deirdre nudged me in the ribs, “Say a few words,” she whispered.

“What do you mean?” I hissed. This was all happening so fast. What was I supposed to say?

“Just about how happy you are,” muttered Deirdre. “You know.”

I didn’t.

The applause was dying down, so I took a deep breath and searched out the familiar faces in the crowd. Especially Breanna’s. And Papa’s.

I found him about halfway back, next to Breanna, beaming at me.

I’d made him proud.

I couldn’t wait to tell Nolan. But he was on a journey to a bigger market in the next county for some specialized tools for the smithy.

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