Everyone gathered in a small circle around Marticc Altican and Layla. He held out his hand and Layla took it, with a bit of hesitation I must add.
Father and daughter waltzed through the circle, separating to clap at intervals in tune with the music. Under the lights of the chandeliers, Layla's dress glowed beautifully. It was funny how I had seen this girl dying in combat armor for weeks and now I was seeing her at her own debut; talk about tonal whiplash.
The dance went on for over a minute and ended to applause from the guests, myself and Joshua included.
"That was wonderful," Joshua whispered, his voice once more without mockery. I nodded in agreement; everything about the night felt like a blast into the past.
Balls did happen in the modern day, extravagant parties. Joshua and I have even been to the hollow spectacle that was the Met Gala. But they all lacked authenticity; all felt like business looking for work disguised as entertainment.
There were very few things like a gala done right, an art that seemed to have been lost to the world... well, to the mortal world at the very least.
The dance was over and the floor was open to the rest of the guests. As much as I enjoyed watching this ball go into full swing, I was not here for fun.
I focused deep and sent a telepathic wave through the crowd, my thoughts flowing through the sea of thoughts like a sonar, searching through every guest for the voice I had heard. It was hard work. There were over a hundred guests and I had no help; my brother was too busy waltzing somewhere in the crowd. After pushing for over a minute and getting nothing but static, I gave up in frustration.
"What are you doing, Magnus?" Catherine asked as she made her way towards me. Her eyes beamed madly and her uncertain movements were a clear tell-tale of drunkenness.
"Leave me be," I commanded. I breathed in and prepared to give my mental sonar another go when a hand clasped my wrist. I looked down to see Catherine leading me towards the middle of the floor.
"What are you doing?" I growled. The audacity. How dare this mortal put a hand on me. I had the mind to smite her that very instant.
"Ease up, block boy, it's a party and you're the only one standing alone." She giggled playfully, "It makes you look like a spy."
At the word spy, I involuntarily tensed up; after all, I was here to spy, in the truth of it. The pianist was coming to the end of his tune when we got to the middle of the room.
Catherine turned to me.
"May I have this dance, sir?" she asked, offering me her hand in mock formality. I rolled my eyes and grabbed her hand, pulling her roughly to my chest. The little wench's yelp gave me untold satisfaction.
"You are almost as annoying as my brother," I said. The sound of a fiddle rose up and an energetic dirge filled the hall. I must admit, the sound of the fiddle brought back so many memories; I have not heard one in ages.
Somewhere in the crowd, a very familiar voice bellowed, "This is my song!!" My brother was clearly enjoying himself.
We danced to the tune, turning and clapping at intervals. After a few routine swirls, we changed partners. This was an unforeseen blessing; my next partner was a lady in a diamond-encrusted mask. I nodded politely and then proceeded to force my way into her thoughts. I found nothing useful to me when the time to switch partners came again.
I was now dancing with a lion-masked man. "You're a big lad, eh!" the man joked. I had an uncomfortable hand around his nonexistent waist and he had his own on my shoulder.
"Indeed," was my polite reply; after all, I was breaking into his head uninvited. His thoughts were all perverted and filled with greed, a major CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation. I put him in the list of people that deserved smiting when this was all over.
We switched partners and a certain clown-masked individual came into my arms.
"Having fun?" I asked, my voice dry. The idiot nodded happily. "Oh brother, when was the last time you heard a fiddle?"
"We are not..."
"I'll tell you," he interrupted, "a very long time. I've had this much fun in decades." He swirled gleefully like a drunk lady.
"You should be looking for clues about this spark," I said. At that moment I wished I had told him about the dreams and the voices, about the vision with father.
"And who says I'm not?" he replied, his playful tone gone. "Do not turn, but there's a heavily bearded man in a blue bear mask."
The dance dictated a turn, and Joshua and I switched positions. I caught a glimpse of him: a middle-aged man with long, silky hair, slightly overweight, dancing with the bird-masked lady I had just discarded.
"What about him?"
"He's terrified of something called 'the Thaw,'" Joshua murmured as we circled each other. "He's a former employee of Father's. And here's a convenient detail: he links this 'Thaw' directly to our dear host."
Joshua gestured vaguely toward Altican, who was deep in conversation with his security detail near the edge of the floor.
"How does this connect to my forced marriage to Layla?" I asked impatiently.
"I don't think it has anything to do with a wedding, brother. Think," Joshua drawled pleasantly. My anger rose immediately; the fool asks me to think?
"You dare..."
"Why would a Fire Pantheon keep a secret that has Father's business in its sights and call it 'the Thaw'?"
The logic of the question pushed through my anger. Once more, Joshua was making sense. "So you think Marticc has our family in his sights?"
"That's what I'm unsure of. But the man had something else buried in his mind. He was obsessing over a countdown."
My breath caught in my throat. I coughed and immediately almost choked. "What?"
"Countdown, something about sixteen days," Joshua explained further. And that was the unfortunate moment the dance dictated we switched partners.
I tried holding on to Joshua, but he already moved on to the next while I fell into the arms of the one person I dreaded the most.
"We finally get to talk," Layla said as she took my hand.