Page 69

Chapter 63

Lotte

The smell of smoke reached Lotte first.

They pushed their way through the crowd on the viewing deck as piercing screams from the dance floor eclipsed the music and the hubbub of the hall.

Lotte got to the front a second before Nora did.

A girl with pinned-up curls in a sea-glass-colored dress was twirling frantically in the middle of the dance floor. Her partner had collapsed on the floor, tired legs giving out below him. But she was still dancing, and there was frenzy to her pace, cries ripping from her throat.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen”—the announcer’s too-bright voice bounced around the room—“it looks like our friend in couple forty-three has stopped dancing, which means that he and his lovely partner are out, out, out. But maybe she hasn’t got the message…” A laugh rippled through the gallery, briefly covering the girl’s screams.

Something was wrong. The girl was sobbing, and her arms were flailing. And the burning smell was getting stronger. Smoke was rising from her heels, Lotte realized.

And then the dancer’s feet burst into flames.

The crowd that had been pressing forward turned to panic.

But Lotte stayed rooted, her breath suddenly coming short and fast.

She had almost forgotten that there was one final trial left.

And here it was, only two days after they had all failed in the maze.

Lotte could feel the Huldrekall’s eyes on the back of her neck, watching what she would do. The eyes of the Holtzfalls, sure that she wasn’t worthy of them. The eyes of the Sisters of the Blessed Briar, sure that she wasn’t worthy of anything.

And they were right.

She had not been good enough to keep her temper.

She had not been good enough to stand her ground.

To be loyal to a family she didn’t fit into.

And now she stood immobilized as, without hesitation, Nora moved.