The woman’s feet moved across the floor with such ease and liquidity that he could

have believed she was flying. Yet when they hit the ground after certain spins or jumps, he

could hear the solid sound they made, even over the enchanting volume of the music. Those

long, slender, girlish legs were deceiving in the strength and flexibility they possessed.

She danced power. Yet there were moments of such tenderness! She would pause, and

hesitantly beseech the audience with a pleading look. It was heartbreakingly poignant—as

though she were seeking wisdom to correct the error of her ways. Then she would suddenly be fierce, and her movements would be so sudden and quick and sure that he had to hold his

breath to properly absorb her furious, vengeful sequences.

Absorb he did, and consumed he would have if it were possible.

Oddly enough, he recognized the first two of the songs she danced to. One was from

the opera Rusalka, and another was from an opera called Undina, which must be her

namesake. Trevor’s mother had loved obscure pieces of opera, and on any given day in their

household when he was growing up such songs could have been heard playing as Alice

Murrey had gone about her housework.

He was startled as the woman on stage fell quite suddenly to a lowered position, and

continued to dance from her knees. She was sometimes so still, stationary, and quiet, and then

she would be explosive—she would be everywhere at once. Every single moment of her dance

had him fully engaged, and he could not have looked away if he tried. He did not even realize

that he was craning his neck for a better view.

When she gracefully lifted her dress to slowly remove her lace panties, Trevain was

again surprised. She did it in a manner which was so relaxed that she could have been in her

own bedroom, yet so careful that no skin was yet exposed. She was fulfilling the requirement

of removing an article of clothing during the second song, he knew. However, the article she

had chosen to remove showed nothing. As she continued to dance without her panties, her

skirt swirling around her thighs was suddenly tenfold as tantalizing.

He found himself staring at the glittering red fabric as it billowed in the breeze created

by her motions. He found himself staring at her smooth tanned thighs, illuminated by the

flashing lights, and hoping for a glimpse of more of her skin. He found his lips had become

very dry, and he licked them to moisten them. Trevain thought he imagined for a moment that

the woman, Undina, cast a smug and proud look in his direction, as though she knew how

impatient he was to see more—as though she knew the effect she was having on him. She was

far too young to exhibit such confidence. Also, there was no possible way she could have

known the true extent of what her dance made him feel. It was beyond anyone’s

comprehension, including his own.

Before long—it certainly felt like an instant, the woman on stage was removing her

dress. Trevain felt his heartbeat quicken, and almost thought he should look away. She was

too young, too young for him to behold in the nude! Yet it was the nature of the establishment,

and although the girl had perhaps taken refreshing liberties with her choice of music and her

style of dance, she conformed to the basic rules of the job.

As the melody played, whimsical and feminine, Undina stood with her back toward the

audience. She glanced back at the enrapt onlookers as she slowly, achingly slowly, slipped

one scarlet strap of her dress off of her right shoulder. Her fingers were extended to emphasize

the drama of the gesture. She smiled then, one of those carefree smiles of youth, and her once stormy eyes seemed to twinkle with mischief and delight. She did the same with her other

shoulder, yet it was somehow different. The subtlest change in her expression seemed to

change the mood from light and airy to somber and sultry.

She tossed her impossibly long dark hair to the front of her body and began sliding the

crimson dress down her back. Trevain watched closely, drinking in each new inch of velvety

tanned flesh that Undina exposed. Her skin was flawless as it hugged the sinews and contours

of her back, and in the atmospheric lighting of the club, almost luminous. The contrast of her

skin against the bold burgundy hue of the fabric was striking. She arranged her dress around

her hips before slowly turning to face the audience. She crossed her arms over her chest in a

display of modesty as she moved forward, gentle steps in time with the music.

Then her arms were gone, and her face was proud and bold as she bared her breasts—

unbearably round and firm collections of flesh. As she moved back into her dance, using one

hand to hold her dress around her hips, Trevain wondered at how impressively young her

body was. He marveled at her athletic silhouette when she arched backwards with extended

arms, and he marveled at how she seemed conscious of her motions to the perfectly extended

tips of her fingers and pointed toes.

She danced not only shamelessly, but proudly when she was nude, and had cast the

dress completely aside. Her motions were not as wild and powerful, but they were careful and

precise. Her steps were so controlled and gentle that her breasts did not shake when she

moved. She moved as though her limbs were cutting through a substance far more viscous

than air—almost as if she were underwater.

She was dancing the nighttime. She had taken them through the course of a full day,

through energetic mornings, brilliant noons, mellow evenings, and now it was the quiet,

peaceful night. Or perhaps she was dancing the winter. Having already paid homage to the

midnight sun, she now saluted the midday moon.

Then it was over, as solemnly as it had begun. Undina stood completely nude, with a

hauntingly serene and satisfied expression on her face.

The crowd erupted in applause, in thundering, most appreciative applause. Undina

inclined her head in polite acknowledgement. In the midst of the loud clapping and cheering,

she looked up at the audience, and her eyes met with Trevor’s. She gazed at him, and he

gazed back at her, enraptured. Their eyes were locked for a moment in a quiet, private

intensity. As the music and applause subsided, her expression darkened once more and her

eyes lowered. She quickly gathered the garments she had disposed of, and in an instant she

had disappeared backstage.