A Duck In Her Pond » The Christmas Ballerina

The Christmas Ballerina 16

Blond Duck — Wed, 16 Mar 2011 09:00:12 +0000

Giddy with joy, they half-danced, half-leaped across the frozen bridge. In front of them, the Ice Dancers swayed and jumped, every tiny step melding snowflakes together. As the music around them swelled, they formed two lines, urging the Prince and Arabella between them.

“Go to the door,” they whispered, their arms curling as Arabella and the Prince rushed past. “Inside, you’ll be safe. You’ll be free.”

“Can you trust them?” Arabella murmured, smiling at the frozen ballerinas as they twirled by.

“Yes.” The Prince bowed to the ladies, kissing the leader’s hand. She fluttered her lashes, tucking her chin into her shoulder. “I would trust them with my life.”

Arabella took a deep breath. “As would I.” Gritting her teeth, she ripped the locket from her neck, hitting her knees as searing pain surged through her. The golden chain slid through her blue fingers, instantly freezing into the bridge below and turning the ice black. The Ice Dancers gasped and backed away, jumping onto snowflakes floating nearby.

“Arabella!” The Prince bent down, scooping her up. In the center of her chest rested a dark heart-shaped hollow, slowly filling with renegade white flakes. Frozen tears crackling in the crinkles of his eyes, the Prince bid a hasty farewell to the forlorn dancers, kicking open the wooden door peeking behind a drift of snow. Ducking inside, he sucked in the warm air, shaking off a coating of frost clinging to his face and hair.

“Your Majesty!” A scullery maid gasped, dropping her broom. “You’re home! You’re free! The enchantress—does your father know?”

“No,” the Prince replied, hurrying over to the fire with Arabella. He bent down, carefully laying her on a plush woven rug. “Get my father–and a doctor! Hurry! Hurry!”

Even inside, the maid’s running steps sounded like the snow flurries he had just left.

“What are you doing?” Alaric’s mother hissed from the side of the stage, struggling against Max and Gabriel, who had a hold of each thin arm. “What are you doing? Put the necklace back on. Put the necklace back on! If you don’t…”

Ignoring her, Justin stood, turning to the audience. “She was the only one who could fix me. She was the only one that could heal me.” Lowering himself to one knee, he raised Arabella’s sleeping head. “And I must repay her kindness with a kiss.” Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips to hers.

This time, Max’s hand slapped over Alaric’s mother’s mouth, silencing her scream.

As the King wept joyfully with his son, the doctor bent over Arabella. But before he could even touch her, the dark void vanished, replaced by smooth skin. Her eyes flew open and she gasped.

“It’s him,” she whispered.

And then she was gone.

Justin lifted his head, sucking in his breath. Arabella’s green eyes peered up at him, wide and blinking.

“You’re awake,” he whispered.

She grinned. “You promised me a dance.”

His face cracking with joy, Justin helped Arabella up as the audience applauded. Facing the thousands of people, Arabella sank into a deep plie. And then she danced.

Backstage, Max and Gabriel stared in bewilderment at their empty hands. Alaric’s mother had disappeared, her frustrated cries still ringing in her ears. The stage manager marched towards them, dragging a blushing Alaric and Jocelyn with her.

“Guess what these two were doing?”

Gabriel sighed. “Don’t make me nauseous. I’m going to dinner at the performance.”

“We weren’t doing anything,” Alaric snarled.

“So what do you call when you kissed me and then”–

“Fine, it was something,” he replied quickly, flushing scarlett. Glancing around, he raised an eyebrow. “Where’s my mom?”

“And what’s she doing onstage?” Jocelyn gasped, her knees buckling.

Max and Gabriel glanced at each other, then at the stage manager.

No one had an answer.

Leaping back, the three men stared at the empty table.

“I didn’t touch her.” The doctor held up his white hands, trembling. “I didn’t touch her.”

“She went home.” The Prince wiped his red eyes, overcome. He clasped his father’s shoulder, childhood memories flooding him. “She went home to dance. As Clara.”

The King’s eyes mistened. “Your mother danced the role of Clara. That’s how I met her. That’s why we put on the play every year until the enchantress…”

The Prince shuddered. “Thank goodness she’s gone.” Frowning as a cold premonition trickled down his spine, he whirled around.

Pressed against the frosted glass, an Ice Dancer peered into the castle. Catching the Prince’s eye, she crooked a ivory finger at him.

Ignoring his father’s cry, he hurried out into the blizzard raging outside.

“I knew it would work!” Justin whooped the second the curtain slammed down, throwing his arms around Max as all the dancers hurried to the stage, faces gleaming with perspiration. “It worked! Did you see, it worked?”

“No time to brag, you’ve got to bow,” Gabriel hissed, beaming and sweeping his cape to the side as the curtain rose again, nearly toppling over a tiny ballerina. Bending to the thundering applause, Max rolled his eyes as Gabriel preened, throwing a sweaty large arm around Alaric. Gritting his teeth, Alaric waited until the curtain kissed the stage before shoving off the director. “You know, I ought to be furious!” he snapped. “Not only did I not get to be the Nutcracker as I was promised, but I had to be the Rat King. The Rat King! Does this look like the face of a Rat King to you?” he demanded, thrusting his chin into Gabriel’s vision.

“It’s a very lovely face,” Gabriel stuttered, tucking his cape around him. “But Max”–

“Yes, you’re an idiot,” Alaric interjected, whirling around. “When I find my mother, she’s going to make sure you never”–

“Where is your mother?” Jocelyn demanded, folding her arms and sulking. “She owes me. She promised me Arabella’s part.” She glared at Arabella, pulling out of Leonette’s arms. “You weren’t supposed to wake up until after the two-week season was over. That’s why Alaric’s mom made me sneak in the locker room and put that garish locket”– She froze, her lips sealing shut.

“My mom stole my locket?” Alaric made a face. “Gross.”

“You did this to Arabella?” Justin stepped forward, fury storming across his face. Jocelyn ducked behind Max, who stepped to the side. “I swear, when Mom hears about this, you’re so screwed.”

“Speaking of screwed, I want to know if I get my part back,” Alaric sneered, glaring at Gabriel. “If not, I might have to sue. No one is going to come see the play without me in it!”

The stage manager snorted, holding up her phone. “Actually, we just sold out of our two week run.”

“How?” Gabriel gasped, staggering against Max. Max grunted, wincing as he tried to hold up the large studio director.

“Bloggers are going nuts over this thing! Plus, the Tribune and Chronicle posted the reviews that will run tomorrow on their Web site–and they’re so positive!” The stage manager beamed, scanning her phone. “Justin and Arabella are stars! I’ve got dozens of interview requests for them in my in-box!”

“That’s not fair!” Alaric screamed, stamping his foot as Gabriel and Max high-fived and Justin kissed Arabella. “That’s not fair! I’m going to sue! I’m going to go to the press. When my mother finds out…”

“Where is your mother?” Justin growled, wrapping an arm around Arabella. “When I find her…”

Arabella raised her green eyes, holding up her hand. “I know where she is,” she murmured, her voice scratchy from un-use. “I know what happened to her.”

“I just hope it’s terrible,” Leonette sneered, glaring at Alaric and Jocelyn. “I hope she rots in hell…”

Arabella shook her head. “I think she’s already there.”

With an Ice Dancer on each arm, the Prince let the swirling snowflakes lead him across the bridge, shivering as he slid down the final feet. Sucking in his breath, all he could do was stare.

Glaring, the Enchantress slammed her hand against the glass globe. The golden locket swung around her neck, highlighted by the white gown that swirled around her. Overhead, the music stopped, and the flurries inside the glass globe swirled, a frenzy of white. Screaming with frustration, the older woman resumed her dance, her furious screams silenced by the rising notes.

And with the Ice Dancers giggling, Alaric practically skipped the whole way home.

Rushing into the locker room, Arabella hurried to her bed, where a surprised nurse glanced up and gasped. Reaching into the covers, Arabella yanked out the snow globe.

The tiny little couple was no longer inside.

Instead, a lone ballerina stood, her arms curved overhead, her legs shadowed in a long white tulle gown. Arabella shuddered, handing the globe to Alaric. He stared at it, his face pale.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” the nurse said, glancing nervously around. “I’ve been wanting to play it…”

“Don’t!” everyone screamed in unison as she reached for it.

“Don’t touch it,” Leonette gasped, pulling the woman’s hand back. “It’s…broke. Very bad luck. Very very bad luck.”

“For me at least,” Alaric mummured, his eyes fixed on the still figure inside.

“And me,” Jocelyn grumbled.

Shuffling off into the shadows, the cursed pair disappeared into the hall. Arabella looked at her friend and her love and smiled.

“You know, I could really go for some hot chocolate.”

“Me too,” Justin smiled.

“Me three.”

And with her friend on one arm and Justin on the other, Arabella skipped down the hall.

Because after a long night of dancing, there was no better cure then hot chocolate.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! We have a new recipe tomorrow from the Blond Duck’s childhood and more whimsical fun! Stay tuned!

The Christmas Ballerina 15

Blond Duck — Wed, 09 Mar 2011 09:00:26 +0000

For previous editions, go here.

The Prince staggered back, then resumed the same steps they had been taking for weeks. Around and around the same stage, the same turns and the same plies as the same song played. But this time, his eyes glittered with hope. “What do you mean, all the world’s a stage?”

“Well, as long as we keep dancing, the music keeps playing and your world doesn’t freeze, right?”

“Right.” The prince sighed, his fingertips blue as he lifted her arm in a turn. “But the snow is getting thicker–thicker than I’ve ever seen it. We must not be dancing fast enough.” His eyes narrowed on the locket around Arabella’s throat, frozen to her skin. “If I ever find that enchantress, I’ll….” He trailed off, his eyebrow cocked. “I don’t understand. Why are you smiling?”

“Because we have to dance, but she never said where we have to dance.” The skin around Arabella’s eyes crinkled, creasing the dusting of snow on her cheeks. “And if we dance our way through the forest, surely we can find your old home, the castle.”

“My castle?” The Prince stared past her, his gaze lost in the white world around them.

“Every Prince has a castle, even a prince of ice.” Arabella dropped down, her feet screaming with every step. “And if we find that castle, we can find someone to help us.”

His blue eyes bore into hers. Then he jerked his head down, tightening his grip around hers.

Without a word, they leaped off the stage.

“Justin!” Leonette hissed after him, glancing at the nurse nervously. Lost in a book, the nurse turned a page, oblivious to the screaming monitors and dangling wires around Arabella’s now empty bed. “Justin, what do I say?”

“Say anything.” He kicked open the door, hurrying into the hallway. Behind him, he could hear Leonette’s cheerful voice inquiring, “So tell me, who does your make up?”

Justin grit his teeth and tightened his grip on Arabella. Ignoring the chaos of parents, teachers and students in the hallway, he bolted towards the exit doors.

“Excuse me!” A angry voice rang out after him. “Excuse me! Young man! Young man, stop! Stop this instant!”

Breaking out into a run, Justin slammed his foot into the door, racing through with Arabella’s head carefully nestled against his shoulder with one hand. The other hand tightened around her legs, clutching her to him as his own legs flew over the pavement. Every step thudded into the concrete as he thundered across the parking lot, gasping for breath. Skidding around clucking mothers with flocks of tiny ballerinas, he jerked open the side door and rushed inside.

“Young man!” He slid past a overworked stage manager, ignoring the shouts ringing behind him. “Young man! Stop, stop!”

“Come on, Arabella,” he whispered. Weaving and winding past wires and ropes, he slid into the darkness of backstage. Ducking down, he cradeled Arabella in his arms, pressing his lips shut even as his lungs screamed for air. Feet thundered past him, the same shrill woman’s voice screaming. “Get him! Get him! He has the girl!”

It wasn’t until the scent of his sister’s perfume faded that he gulped down air, his heaving chest raising and lowering Arabella’s golden curls. Pulling out his cell phone, he scooted back into the safety of the shadows. “Max?” he whispered. “Max, I think Arabella can dance after all.”

Running on shredded legs, blood oozing through her toe shoes, Arabella wildly leaped and twirled across the forest. Shivering in the Prince’s arms, she piroutted over miles of frozen tundra, jumping over logs and waltzing over frozen rivers and ponds.

“There must be a castle.” Her teeth chattered, betraying her own doubts. “Do you remember anything?”

The Prince shook his head, his blue lips cracking in a grimace. “Nothing at all. Nothing looks familiar.” Skidding to a stop, he stomped the icy ground. “We can’t do this. We’ve got to go back to the stage. You’re freezing. The snow is getting worse.” He cocked his head and groaned. “And the music–I can’t hear the music.”

“But there’s got to be a way.” Arabella pressed a hand to her chest, wincing. Every breath felt like a sword sliding down her throat, the cold air burning her lungs. “There’s got to be a way.” She brushed the snow off her bun, her hair cracking. “I’ve got to find a way home. The performance…”

She closed her eyes, too frozen to weep. His hand wrapped around hers, his cold fingers blazing against her own icy skin.

“Perhaps we can help.”

“What do you think?” Justin gripped Arabella to him, smoothing her curls away from her pale forehead. The cell phone pressed to his ear was silent.

“Gabriel might go for it.” Max hesitated, his voice billowing through the tiny speaker. “But Justin, are you sure she’ll wake up? You’re talking about essentially adding a new act 15 minutes before the curtain comes up.”

“Not a new act, an introduction. A preview of sorts.” Justin shifted, his grip tightening around Arabella. “Think of it as a preview. You can sell it to Gabriel as art. He loves art.”

“Alaric is going to have a fit. And his mother…” Max trailed off.

“I know. She saw me take Arabella. She’s been following me.” Before Max could protest, Justin added quickly, “Max, please trust me. I really think this will work. And she deserves this. You know she does. I love my sister, but she sucks compared to Arabella.”

The phone was silent for a moment. Justin glanced down, gazing at Arabella’s rose lips, curled into a smile. “Even sleeping, she’s beautiful,” he whispered, forgetting the plastic phone digging into his shoulder.

A sigh filled his ear. “Ok, we’ll try it. But there’s just one thing I’ll need you to do…”

“Anything.” Justin held his breath.

“I just hope to God you’re not modest,” Max warned. “Because if we’re going to do this, it’s going to be done right. And we’ve got seconds, not minutes. Stay where you are. Don’t move.”

With the now silent cell phone still digging into his side, Justin cradled Arabella and waited in the darkness as chaos swirled around them backstage.

Whirling around, Arabella stepped back. “Who said that?” The Prince tightened his grip on her, pulling her behind him.

“We did.” Leaning forward, Arabella squinted as several faint lithe forms of white swirled in front of them. Swaying and twirling, they danced in the wind, leaping from snowfalke to snowflake.

“The Ice Dancers!” The Prince gripped her arm, his voice full of wonder. “I remember now! My nurse told me a fairy tale about them once…I remember!” His laugh rang out. “They’re like ballerina snowflakes. There are no storms, my nurse told me, just performances by the Ice Dancers. The more crazed the snow, the more exciting the performance!”

“That’s wonderful,” Arabella replied, shivering. “But, no offense, what can you help us with?”

“That’s the great thing!” the Prince cried even as the answer appeared before her eyes. “The Ice Dancers can dance on snow and wind, sleet and air. And when they want, they can dance across ice and frost, cold and chill…”

“To create a bridge home,” Arabella finished, gasping. Before her, thousands of tiny pirouetting toes had created an icy bridge that rose into the sky. Holding out her hands, she smiled. “Shall we?”
Grinning, the Ice Prince spun her up, leaping onto their new icy stage.

Decked out in the Nutcracker’s costume, Justin bent down and picked up Arabella. Max picked up Justin’s costume, shuddering.

“My head is going to be on a pike somewhere when Alaric’s mother finds out about this. Gabriel’s having enough trouble keeping him calm about wearing your costume. He keeps wanting to kill the costume manager.”

“What’d you tell him?” Justin shifted Arabella in her arms, her head nestling against his shoulder.

“We told him that she lost his costume and he’d have to wear yours and we were having you wear one of the soldiers.” Max shuddered for a second time. “If this doesn’t work, heads will roll.”

“Just keep his mother away from me.” Justin took a deep breath as the stage manager shouted his name. “Here goes.”

“Good luck.” Folding his arms, the director watched as Justin climbed out of the shadows, sliding onto the stage. He bent down, laying Arabella on the stage. As the curtain slowly rose, he dropped to one knee and kissed Arabella on the lips.

And then he ripped the locket from her throat. From behind the stage, a scream tore through the air.

The audience sat frozen, unsure whether to applaud or run.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! A new recipe tomorrow and a new Butterfly Dress with a giveaway for all my fashion friends Friday!

The Christmas Ballerina 14

Blond Duck — Wed, 02 Mar 2011 09:00:20 +0000

For previous editions, go here.

Her thoughts spun as desperately as her frozen toe shoes over the frosty stage. “Wait, I’ve got it!”

She could barely see his blue lips moving through the haze of sleet. “What?”

“When we stop dancing, the world freezes, right?”

“Unfortunately.” His voice was heavy with heartache.

“But how do you travel about your kingdom?”

“My kingdom?” Puzzled, his blue eyes pierced through her gaze as she whipped around and around.

“Yes, your kingdom. If you’re a prince, you’ve got a kingdom.” Arabella’s feet were cramping, her shins aching.

“I…I don’t know my kingdom.” His voice was hollow. “I’ve never been off this stage. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been here. Dancing and dancing.”

Arabella shut her eyes, snowflakes sprinkling her cheeks. “But what about your parents, your friends…You had to grow up somewhere, to do something. Otherwise, how would you know about the Nutcracker? How would you know about the other creatures in your world?”

It was clear these thoughts had never entered the Prince’s mind. His mouth hung open, his breath bursts of tiny clouds.

“How did you get here?” Arabella pressed. “Who put you on the stage?”

“An enchantress made of ice, with hair of frost and skin of snow,” the Prince mumbled, his gaze distant. “She came to me, tricked me somehow…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Ever since, all I can do is dance. The second I stop and the music slows, my whole world freezes in time, melting into nothing–not a thought, not even a memory.” Suddenly his hand clamped down on hers. Stopping her mid turn, he pulled her toward him. As her vision steadied, her legs automatically plieing, he reached forward. His fingers wrapped around the golden heart dangling from her neck.

“This. She wore this. Only hers was silver, not gold.” His fingers tightened around the heart. “The question is, how did you get it?”

Arabella just stared, her voice frozen deep within her.

“Odious–I mean, Miss Odette?” Leonette poked her head into the teacher’s office. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Behind her, Justin smothered a snort.

“Sure. Come in, you two.” Miss Odette stretched out her long legs, lean from years spinning across studio floors. “What’s going on? Are we going to have a rat revolution?” She laughed, her eyes crinkling.

Justin and Leonette glanced at each other. “Listen, this is going to sound kind of weird, but we met Alaric’s mother.”

“Ah.” Miss Odette’s smile faded. “You’ve heard the rumors, then.”

“Rumors?” Leonette bit her lip. “What rumors?”

“About her dabbling in black magic.” Miss Odette nodded at Leonette’s gasp. “If Max and Gabriel hadn’t been so insistent, I would have never asked her to come back and work with you during rehearsal. Even when we danced together, we were never friends.” She grimaced. “If Alaric wasn’t talented, he’d never get the roles he does. But between his skill and his face…” She sighed. “And unfortunately where he goes, she goes.” She glanced up at Leonette. “What’d she do, try to sprinkle some ashes on your or something? She did that to my roommate once. She couldn’t sleep for a week.”

“She didn’t do anything to us.” Leonette twisted her hands together. “But when we were with Arabella, Justin noticed she was wearing a necklace.”

“A golden locket,” Justin interjected. “One that Alaric made a big fuss about giving her, but she apparently never got.”

“So then when we try to take it off of her, Alaric’s mother shows up with Jocelyn and freaks out. She told us if we want Arabella to wake up, we can’t take it off of her until after the Nutcracker. When Jocelyn dances her part.” Leonette gnashed her teeth together.

“But that’s a bunch of hocus pocus, right?” Justin leaned forward, his knuckles cracking as he leaned on Miss Odette’s desk. “I mean, Arabella’s going to be fine. She’s Clara. She has to be fine.” His voice dropped to a whisper as his head drooped. “She has to be fine, right?”

Miss Odette stared at them, moisture pooling in her eyes. She leaned forward and pressed a number on her cell phone.

“Hello?” A man’s voice filled the room.

“Max, I’ve got a question. Have you heard anything about Alaric’s mother being up to her own tricks?” Miss Odette glanced at the two students.

“Not only have I heard it, but Gabriel and I saw it.” Max’s voice cracked. “I don’t think our Clara is sleeping because she stayed out too late, if you know what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Miss Odette sighed. “What’s your plan?”

“Well, Gabriel’s too in love with Alaric to let me boot him.” Max huffed into the phone. “And this close to rehearsal, as director, I don’t have an option. Unless Arabella wakes up in a week, Jocelyn will dance her part. You’ll have to arrange your dancers however you see fit.” He paused a moment. “I’m sorry, Odette. I know that compared to Arabella, Jocelyn is…”

“I know.” Miss Odette leaned forward, pressing the button. Max’s voice disapearred, a dial tone filling the silent room. She leaned back and looked at Leonette and Justin.

“That’s it?” Justin exploded. “You’re just going to let Arabella sleep through the entire season? Through Christmas?”

“What can we do?” Miss Odette asked gently. “The last time this happened…” She clamped her lips together.

“Last time?” Leonette leaned forward, grabbing her teacher’s arm. “What do you mean last time?”

Miss Odette shook her head. “Let’s just say that when Alaric’s mother was dancing, this happened a lot in her career. And anyone who tried to do anything about it, well, they had a habit of vanishing.” She stood, smoothing her leotard. “I’m sorry.”

Stunned, all they could do was watch her leave.

The prince tugged at her necklace. Arabella cried out, wincing. “Ouch!”

“It’s as I feared.” He dropped the thin chain, his hand returning to hers to resume the dance. “She’s got you trapped, as well.”

“And that means…” Arabella’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“That we’ll dance forever.” The Prince’s eyes were grim. “Together.”

For most of the students at the Academy, the next week flew by. For Justin and Leonette, it crawled. Every day was longer than the other, every rehearsal excruciating. There was no joy, no laughter. Leonette watched Jocelyn dance with Alaric, a smirk on her face. Max was glum, Gabriel spent most of the time sobbing into his cloak when not staring at Alaric.

And Alaric’s mother watched everything, a small smile on her face. No one dared to question her. No one dared to talk to her.

Every day, Justin and Leonette went to visit Arabella. Scared of moving her, a cot had been set up with a 24-hour nurse in the corner of the locker room, a gruesome reminder of what could have been.

Opening night, Justin stared down at her. Shifting the cloak of his Rat King costume, he leaned down and took her hand.

“It should be her out there.” Leonette shifted her Rat Tiara. “Not your sister. No offense.”

“None taken.” Justin entwined her fingers with his, his eyes on the locket. Suddenly, he looked at Leonette. “Distract the nurse for me.”

“What?’ Leonette blinked her eyes, heavy with stage make up, at him. “Why?”

“Because she will dance. She’s got to dance.” Scooping Arabella up in his arms, Justin pulled off the electronic monitors and wires wrapped around Arabella’s arms. “All she needs is magic.”

Lost in a whirlwind of snow, Arabella gasped.

“Did I step on your toes?” The Prince stepped back, alarmed.

“I know what to do!” Her voice was a whisper whipping around them. “I know how to trick the enchantress and free ourselves!”

“How?” The Prince grabbed her hand eagerly. “Tell me.”

Arabella grinned. “All the world’s a stage, right?”

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! We have a new recipe tomorrow and a announcement Friday with our Butterfly Dress installment! Stay tuned!

The Christmas Ballerina 12

Blond Duck — Wed, 23 Feb 2011 09:00:44 +0000

For previous editions, go here.

The snow swirling around them, the Ice Prince stared out into the distance.

“How?” Arabella repeated, wincing as she cracked her aching feet.

“That’s the problem.” The Ice Prince sighed, snow sprinkling from his hair onto his boot. “We must find another.”

“Another what?”

He glanced up at her. “You.”

“What do you mean?” Her shoulders trembled, her skin blue now that she wasn’t spinning.

The Ice Prince winced. “The music–don’t you hear? It’s stopped.” The snow was so thick, she could barely see his face. His voice was muffled, the roaring of the wind rising around them.

“So?”

The Prince held up his hand. Pressing a hand to her chest, Arabella stumbled back, her body quavering. Only the dull outline of his fingers remained. “There is a reason I’m the Ice Prince,” he replied bitterly, reaching towards her with what remained of her fingers. She stood frozen, disgusted but unwilling to hurt him by jerking away.

“When the music stops, my world freezes.” His voice was thick, his lips blue. “And the music stops when we stop dancing.”

Arabella’s eyes pricked with tears. “But if we can’t stop dancing, how do we find another dancer?”

The Ice Prince took her hand in his. Immediately, as if pulled by a string, her toe snapped up, her other leg pointing out and returning to her knee in a whirling piroutte. Her arms curved over her snow-speckled bun, trembling from exertion. The frigid air slapped her in the face as she turned, cold knives slashing at her skin.

“All I know how to do is dance.” The Prince’s whisper whirled around her, carried by the flurries accompanying her twirls. “And I want to help you, because you deserve to be Clara.” The sob shook her harder than the icy air. “I just don’t know how.”

***

Justin spun the locket in his fingers, gnawing on his lip. “She wasn’t wearing this in practice.”

“She wasn’t wearing it when I saw her either,” Leonette replied, wrinkling her nose. “If she’d tried, I would have talked her out of it. It’s totally tacky.”

Justin slid the locket off of Arabella’s throat, gently pulling it over her head.

“Don’t do that!”

The sudden outburst made them both fall back, Justin grabbing Arabella’s head before it could crash into the floor. “Who are you?” he demanded, cradling Arabella’s sleeping face in his arms.

A tall thin woman emerged from the shadows, her face pinched in horror. “Put. the. locket. back.”

“Who are you?” Justin repeated, dropping his shoulder over Arabella protectively.

Leonette peered at the woman. “You were at practice, weren’t you? The “secret source” Odious said would teach us how to be a better dancer.”

“Put the locket back.” The woman’s eyes burned into Arabella’s sleeping form.

“Why should I?”

“You must,” she hissed. “For her sake. If you don’t…” She broke off, stepping back.

“If I don’t, what?” Justin challenged.

“Just do it, Justin!” Jocelyn panted, running up behind the woman. She tried to smile. “I gave it to her ok? It’s from Alaric. They’re dating now.”

“No they’re not.” Leonette smirked. “She doesn’t like him.”

“He’s my son,” the woman hissed, her eyes narrowing. “She’d be a fool not to like him.”

“I still need to know why I shouldn’t flush this thing,” Justin replied, waving the locket in his fingers.

“Do you ever want her to wake up?” The woman crossed her arms.

“Of course.”

“Than return the locket.” At his hesitant gaze, she snapped, “Do it!”

“When will she wake up?” Leonette gazed down at her friend.

“She will…soon.” The woman smiled. “After some things are done.”

Justin snarled. “You did this to her. For your son.”

“Wouldn’t you?” The woman simpered. “Don’t worry, she’s being taken care of.” Stepping back into the shadows, she faded into the darkness. “If you want her to wake up, do what I say…”

“Hey, wait a minute!” Leonette leaped to her feet, chasing after them. But even Jocelyn was gone, the locker room door swinging behind them. “How did they know about the necklace? How did they get here so fast?”

Toying with the locket, Justin grimaced. “The question is, how is a locket going to save Arabella?”

Their eyes met, the word tumbling from their lips at the same moment. “Odious.”

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! A delicious recipe and review tomorrow!