“So what are we going to do to keep Nadine safe?”
She tightened the last bolt and picked up her bag. “We are not doing anything. I will talk to Dame Fairchild about it later at our mentoring session.”
She went to brush past me, but I caught her arm and jerked her against me. “If you say anything to Nadine without me, I swear I will tell Master Fenrey everything.”
She shook off my hold. “She’s my mentor.”
“She’s my—” I swallowed hard. “—savior.” I cleared my throat. “So I’m not about to stand by and let her be killed. I don’t care how much you and I despise each other, we’re in this together now. Or else, I go straight to Master Fenrey with your little sub rosa adventures.”
She looked so furious, I almost reached for my pepper-spray gun again. She marched to the door, put her hand on the frame. “Fine,” she spat, not looking at me. “Dame Fairchild’s suite. Seven in the morning.”
Chapter Seven
The jangling bell on our mechanical alarm clock woke me three hours later. Even opening my eyes was torture. I could have gleefully thrown the whole mess of gears and cogs through the window, but it would cost me an entire year’s worth of pocket money to replace. Instead, I groped for the brass lever to silence the alarm. On the other side of our night table, Thea rolled over in her bed and groaned.
Six o’clock in the rusted morning. The newly-dawned light barely filtered through our west-facing window. I struggled to sit up, my muscles already stiff and sore from my night’s adventures. I would have given anything for a hot shower, but there wasn’t time. I had to be at Nadine’s apartments in an hour.
“When did you get back?” Thea mumbled, sliding back her cotton sheet with one foot.
“About three.” My voice was rough as the rubble in the utility tunnels.
“Sorry I was asleep. I just couldn’t stay awake anymore.”
I staggered out of bed and limped over to our washstand. With a turn of the brass faucet handle, I filled the basin with cold water to wash my face. We didn’t have hot water in our rooms, just in the shower rooms down the hall.
“It’s fine,” I said, splashing the water on my face. My skin felt tight and the scrapes and scratches stung a little. I’d have to come up with a believable explanation for how I’d been injured.
“Did you have any trouble?”
“No.” I felt badly for lying to her. I wanted to tell her about the Peacock’s threat, but it seemed wrong to say anything before we talked to Nadine.
After cleaning our teeth and washing up, we helped each other dress—stockings, petticoats, corset, striped skirt, crisp white blouse, button-up boots. I pulled my hair back and pinned it into a simple bun. I was just too tired to do anything more.
I explained away my scrapes by telling Thea I’d stumbled in the darkness of the cavern under the theater. She was still too sleepy to question it.
I wished we could wear our carpal cryptoaethergraph transceivers, but such devices were strictly not allowed during training hours. I wouldn’t have a chance to talk with her again until the afternoon because our schedules were too different. Hopefully, she would forgive my little fibs once I could explain what had really happened last night.
When we were dressed, we hurried from the apprentice wing toward the dining hall. I made some hasty excuse about skipping breakfast to check on a project due later in the day and gave Thea an airy kiss on her cheek.
Then I hustled through the maze of corridors to the other side of the theater where the company members and Theater Guild staff lived. Many of them were heading to breakfast as well. As I passed, I felt them staring at my scraped face.
I hated feeling like a curiosity.
Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen, children of all ages! Presenting Professor Cornelius’ Carnival of Curiosities…
A sick twinge twisted inside me. I shook my head, a bit impatient with myself. After three years, it was still never far from my mind. The images, the memories, the feelings—they weren’t as strong as they had been at first. But always there, like a devilish shadow.
“Thrunge plates, Miss Mellor?” The silkily dark voice hummed close to my ear.
I half shrieked. Jumped and nearly slid on the polished marble floor.
Dietrich Wolff grabbed my elbow to steady me. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” His elvish green eyes glimmered with repressed laughter. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be laughing if he knew why I was so easy to startle.
I put a safer distance between us. “Not at all. I was just thinking about something.”
His presul magic hovered around me. Another reminder of past horrors.
I didn’t really want him in the same category as those memories. He was so delicious to look at and so brilliant and interesting. But I couldn’t escape who he was and what his magic could do.
“What were you thinking about so intently?” He lifted one dark brow. “The mischief you and Miss Wright were up to last night?”
I trotted out a teasing grin, in spite of my discomfort. “A lady’s secrets are her own, Presul Wolff.”
“Not when the lady in question drags me into the middle of her schemes.” He leaned toward me, his smile just a reflection in his eyes. His voice was quiet, with only a hint of amusement. “Do you have any idea how awkward it was for me, Miss Mellor? Here I was, retired to my apartments for the evening, in my dressing gown, looking forward to reading a new novel and a glass of wine. Only to be accosted by a frantic-looking Miss Wright and a very talkative Mrs. McCrone. And a box of what looked to me like rusty door hinges. I must have been badly mistaken about that because Miss Wright insisted these were the thrunge plates I was desperately needing. And of course, such an upstanding apprentice would never tell a falsehood.”
I tossed my head, remembering too late that it’s not such an effective gesture when one’s hair is mashed into a plain bun. “Actually, involving you wasn’t my idea.”
“Are you pinning the blame on your friend?”
I lifted my chin. “No. That would be most uncivil. I’m simply stating the facts.”
“So you said ‘thrunge plates’ and she said ‘Presul Wolff.’”
“Precisely.”
“I see.”
He paused while another group of Guild members passed us and nodded politely to them. I took the opportunity to slide away from him again. Then curtseyed unsteadily at the group.
One of them, a costume designer, turned back to us, sliding her hand down her waist to settle on her hip. She gave him the sort of calculating smile a cat would give a canary—if cats could smile. “Aren’t you coming to breakfast, Presul Wolff?”
He barely glanced at her. “In a moment. Miss Mellor is going to clean a box of thrunge plates for me later today, and we’re just working out what time she will arrive at my office.” His eyes remained locked on mine. “Isn’t that right, Miss Mellor?”
Wretched fellow. I gave him a sticky-sweet smile. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure I have time today, Presul. I have several projects due.”
“Ah, but if I remember correctly, you are the sort of person who completes projects days and weeks ahead of time. I’m sure you can squeeze in an hour to get those thrunge plates cleaned for me. Since it was so urgent for me to have them last evening. Say…half past four?”
The costume designer looked bored. The others watched us with amused expressions. I couldn’t defy a presul, especially not in front of witnesses. “Of course. I would be happy to, Presul Wolff.” I gave him an exaggeratedly respectful curtsey.
“Excellent. I’m also looking forward to your enlightening me on the various uses of thrunge plates. I’ve begun a new study of them, and you seem to be quite the expert.” Before I could reply, he gave me a quick wink, a courteous nod, then joined the group of Guild members waiting for him.
Brilliant. Just brilliant. I hurried on to Nadine’s suite of rooms. That settled it—no more spying for me. Much too complicated. Irritating.
I swallowed
a yawn.
And much too exhausting.
After we talked with Nadine, Delphine could do whatever she damn well pleased. I’d threaten to expose her if she kept harassing me, and then I’d get on with my own life.
And if the rozzers raided the Coggled Noggin and arrested her for illegal acting, even better.
As long as Nadine was safe from the Peacock, nothing else really mattered.
By the time I reached Nadine’s apartments, Delphine was already knocking on the door.
“You were supposed to wait for me.” I jogged the last few steps to stand beside her, giving her my meanest glare.
“And you were supposed to be here right at seven.”
“Which I am.”
“Then there isn’t any problem, is there?”
The door opened, and Nadine peeked out, wearing a green silk dressing gown. Her walnut brown hair hung over her shoulder in a heavy braid, and her dark eyes glowed with gentle beauty. Her welcoming expression turned puzzled as she looked at the two of us. “Good morning, ladies. What a surprise to see you both…here…together.”
I had to smother a giggle. Delphine curtseyed to her and nudged me into a belated curtsey as well.
“May we speak with you, Dame Fairchild?” Delphine said. “It’s important.”
“Of course.” She stepped back and welcomed us into her small parlor. It was done in elegant shades of soft blue and gold. Like a real lady’s room in a big house. She motioned to a pair of arm chairs and took a seat on the sofa opposite them. “Claire,” she said to me, “what happened to your face?”
I don’t think she even realized she’d used my given name. But a warm happiness flooded me at her concern. Delphine shot me a look so hateful, a knot of tension tightened in my head. “I fell against a brick wall last night. But I’m fine.” I’d been telling everyone else I slipped in the shower, but there was no using hiding from Nadine the fact that we had been out the night before.
“We should have you see the healer.”
“Delphine should come with me, then, since she was injured too.” Making Nadine notice Delphine’s injuries wouldn’t make Delphine like me any better, but I hoped she’d quit murdering me with her eyes.
Nadine took a quick glance at Delphine, and her mouth dropped open. “Good heavens! What were you two doing last night?”
“It was a street thief,” Delphine said.
“Crowded street, an accident,” I said.
We exchanged rueful glances. Should have made sure our stories matched before we began.
Nadine frowned at us.
“A street thief ran through a crowd, and we were thrown up against a brick wall in the confusion,” I improvised. Nadine’s expression sharpened. Motherly instinct or was I just that bad of a liar? I hurried on. “At any rate, we’ll both be fine, but we needed to talk to you about something extremely urgent.”
She still looked skeptical. “Shall I pour some tea?”
I shook my head, and Delphine murmured a “no thank you.”
“Nonsense. My tea clock has it all prepared, and I have a few muffins as well. I suspect neither of you has eaten breakfast yet.”
I couldn’t deny that. Nadine crossed the room to a small table where the tea clock was sitting. Part alarm clock, part tea brewer, the clock triggered a match to light a gas ring under the water kettle. When the water was hot enough, steam pressure forced the pot to tilt and pour water into a waiting teapot containing tea leaves. A plate slid across the gas ring to extinguish the flames. Ingenious device—as long as one didn’t forget to place the teapot in the proper position.
Once we each had a muffin and a cup of tea, Nadine settled onto the sofa again, her silky dressing gown swooshing against the damask upholstery. “Now, tell me what is going on. And don’t bother making up stories about street thieves and brick walls.”
Delphine launched into the story. I decided it was wiser to let her talk. She didn’t explain where we had been, but just that we’d been out.
When Nadine learned about the Peacock, the color fled from her face. Without replying, she gripped her teacup tightly and took a slow sip. Then she placed the cup back on the saucer and set it on the low table between us. She stared down at the cup for several moments, then raised her eyes to us.
“What makes you believe what you heard, Miss Birdwell? Who was it you overheard?” Her voice was steady and her expression calm. This was the quiet strength and courage that had come to my rescue. It was why I would do anything for this woman. Anything at all.
Delphine’s eyes didn’t waver from Nadine’s face. “She is an employee of the friend you introduced me to a few years ago. I don’t know how she is connected to the Peacock or if she even knows his real identity. But she correctly predicted the second and third murders.”
A message seemed to pass between them. A shared secret. Nadine nodded slightly. At once, I understood. My chest grew hot and my throat tightened. Nadine knew about Delphine’s job at the Coggled Noggin. In fact, it appeared that she may have helped Delphine get the job.
I felt like I’d been punched. I had taunted Delphine with threats of telling Nadine. How she must have been laughing at me inside.
But how could Nadine do this? Why would she help the diva-bitch? I was the one she had a special connection to. Delphine was just the girl she was assigned to mentor.
“Did she say when the Peacock was planning to attack?” Only the slightest tremor in her voice revealed Nadine’s fear.
“No. She seemed nervous to even speak. She knew I am an apprentice here, and she knew I was listening. I believe she wanted me to hear her, but if she knows any further information, she was too afraid to reveal it.”
My anger deflated slightly. I was a selfish cog. If Nadine hadn’t helped Delphine, we never would have learned of the Peacock’s plan. In the end, it could turn out that her own kindness may have saved her life. I had no right to be angry. Nadine didn’t belong to me.
Even though I wished she did.
Nadine stood. “Thank you, both of you, for bringing this news to me. I cannot express how deeply I am in your debt.”
“What do we do now?” Delphine placed her untouched muffin and cup of tea on the table.
“For now, both of you need to go to your training sessions. I will speak to Cy—Master Fenrey and see what must be done.”
“You won’t tell him you heard the news from us, will you?” Delphine asked.
“No, of course not. Leave everything to me. I will tell you when I know more.”
She walked us to the door and bid Delphine farewell. But she kept me back a moment.
“Claire, dear child,” she murmured.
My eyes stung with sudden tears. I was special to her. Even if she could rarely show it.
“I don’t know how it happened that you were with Delphine last night—”
“I—”
She brushed my cheek with the back of her fingers, a warm glow in her eyes. “No, don’t explain. I know the two of you bear each other no love. But there are things about Delphine that should command your pity and sympathy. Don’t judge her too harshly. And please, for my sake if not for hers, don’t reveal what you’ve discovered about her.”
The anger flooded back. I jerked away. “For you, I’ll hold my tongue. But I can’t believe you would defend her. Or help her. You seem blind to the fact that she’s a horrible, wretched bitch.”
A sad smile touched her mouth. “You are so passionate, so clever. But you see only from one perspective. Sometimes it’s not a matter of being blind to something, but of seeing much more than just the obvious.”
That made no sense. It angered me. And then I was angry about being angry at someone I loved so much.
All because of Delphine. At that moment, I hated her more than I’d ever hated her before.
I took a deep breath and put on a respectful, serious expression. “I’ll think about that. And I promise not to say anything.”
She smiled. “That’s my
girl. Now go on. I don’t want you to be late.”
I made my escape. Joy at her approval warred with a sense that she had betrayed me somehow. And beneath all that was the real worry I was trying to ignore—how could any of us keep her safe from the Peacock?
Chapter Eight
The rest of the day inched along without any further word from Nadine. I did my best to stay awake during my classes, but by the time I reached my last class, my mind was fuzzy and my eyes felt scratchy.
At least the class was an easy one—an in depth study of Sir Francis Bacon, with special focus on his tragedy plays. We would be soon studying his most renowned tragedy, Hamlet, but for the past several class sessions, we had been studying the controversy surrounding our empire’s most famous playwright. Some people claimed Sir Francis could not have possibly written all the plays he was credited with—including the one our apprentice company was rehearsing, As You Like It. There were lots of conspiracy theories. The most absurd one was that an obscure glover’s son, William Shakespeare, was the true author of these great classics. There were all sorts of supposed “evidence” for it, but most of us considered it a terribly silly idea.
However, our assignment was to conduct a debate about it. We wouldn’t know which side we were arguing until the day of the debate, so we had to be ready to argue convincingly either way. I had already volunteered to be the spokeswoman for our team—I excelled at debate, regardless of whether I actually believed our given position or not. Our team had arguments for both sides ready to go, so we had little to do during class.
Raymond Carrew slid into the wooden desk next to mine. He was on my team for the debate, so we pushed our desks together and spread out our debate notes to make it look like we were working. He shoved his round-framed spectacles higher on his nose, and tucked a stray lock of light red hair behind his ear.
I sneaked a glance at him as he bent over his notes. I would never admit it, but I liked looking at him nearly as well as I enjoyed ogling Presul Wolff. He was slim and broad shouldered, with a self-confidence I didn’t think he was even aware of. His lips were graceful and full and usually set in a secretive, sensual half-smile. His hair was golden red, swept off his face in lustrous waves. His eyes, behind his spectacles, always reminded me of mist at twilight. They didn’t probe into my soul like the presul’s did, but I suspected they saw much more than he let on.
Chains of Silver: a YA Theater Steampunk Novel (Alchemy Empire Book 1) Page 7
