My gaze snapped to her, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. It wasn’t that I didn’t agree with her—I did—but to hear her say it so bluntly made my heart ache. “Can she use her magic?”
Lucy shook her head. “I used a numina flux detector—it’s a device that measures the levels of active magical energy in a person. There’s no measurable numen activity at this point.”
None of the rest of us said a word, but the mood grew dark. It seemed rude to care about the performance right now, given how Delphine must be suffering, but I couldn’t help thinking about it anyway. Even if by some chance Delphine’s magic revived in only two weeks, without rehearsal in the meantime, she wouldn’t be ready to perform.
Lucy touched Nadine’s hands. “I spoke with Miss Birdwell this morning. She knows now that I’ve been treating her siblings. She seems to believe that the attack was related to a debt she owes a moneylender. She is terrified of what will happen to her family if she can’t make the final payment in time.”
“They were threatening her,” I said quietly. “She showed me a letter. She was—” I glanced at Lucy. “—working to try to pay off the debt by the deadline. She won’t be able to do her job now. I don’t see how she’ll be able to make the payment in time.”
“Tell her it will be taken care of.” Dietrich’s voice was like a bar of raw iron. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes sparked jade fire. “She is not to worry—we’ll make sure her family is protected.”
I had no idea what he was planning, but even an army of rozzers would have retreated from the righteous fury blazing from him.
“Let me tell her,” I said. “I need to speak with her anyway.”
Lucy smiled sadly. “She doesn’t want to see anyone right now.”
“I need to. Even if she doesn’t want to see me. I have to speak with her.”
Lucy glanced at Nadine, who nodded. “I can take her. Just for a few minutes.”
Lucy looked doubtful, but she didn’t argue. “We’ll wait here, then.”
Nadine and I walked silently through the dormitory halls to Delphine’s room. Nadine knocked. “Delphine? It’s Dame Fairchild. Please let me in.”
At first, there was no answer. Then, a thin, dull voice responded. “It’s unlocked.”
She eased the door open. From behind her, I saw Delphine, lying on her back in bed, under a ragged quilt. She stared at the ceiling and didn’t look at us as we entered.
“Delphine, dear, I’m glad you’ve returned.” Nadine crossed the room and took one of Delphine’s pale, slender hands from where it lay on top of the quilt.
“Thank you.” She spoke the words to the ceiling.
“I will be back to check in on you later, but Miss Mellor is also here to see you.”
“No. I don’t want her here.” The words were a flat monotone, hard like concrete.
“She won’t stay long,” Nadine said firmly, “but she needs to talk to you, and I’m sure you’ll be civil to her and let her speak. I’ll be right outside.” She pulled up a chair next to the bed and motioned for me to sit. Then she left the room, closing the door behind her.
The room was still. I stared at the unmoving Delphine. Her face was pale, and a thin scar curved down from the corner of her bottom lip, a token from the attack that not even Lucy could entirely remove. Except for the rise and fall of her chest, she could have been a corpse.
Compassion rushed over me. Not many years ago, this had been me. I remembered those first days after my rescue—the feeling that I was dead inside even though I was breathing, the knowing that I’d lost the life I knew and the fear that nothing would ever feel right again.
“I’m sorry,” I said finally.
No response. Had I really expected one?
“I am so sorry—for the rumors, too. I told everyone it wasn’t true, that I made it all up and that it was my fault. I know that doesn’t make up for it, but it was wrong of me to do that and I will always regret it.”
Her jaw tensed, but she still didn’t speak.
“Dietrich says not to worry about the debt or your family. I don’t know what he’s planning, but I don’t think anyone will get in his way of keeping them safe.”
She nodded slightly. Good, at least something got through to her.
“I…I wanted you to know—it’s awful at first. It feels like you’ll never feel happy again. But it gets better. I promise. I know we’re not good friends—or friends at all, really, but…if you ever need someone to talk to, I would understand from personal experience.”
I held my breath, hoping she would finally respond.
She turned her head toward me, her eyes empty and cold. “Get out.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised, but her rejection stung.
“I do care, Delphine,” I whispered.
For a moment, I thought I saw her eyes filling with tears.
Then, in a blur of motion, she grabbed the hairbrush off her night stand and threw it at me. I ducked, gasping. It barely missed my head and crashed against the door.
“I said get out.” It was a feral snarl, like a wild creature.
I scrambled from the chair. There was nothing else I dared say. I pushed past Nadine, waiting in the hall, and ran back to the reception room. To Dietrich’s waiting arms. It didn’t matter if Lucy saw us. I needed him.
A few minutes later, Nadine returned. I slid away from Dietrich, and if Nadine noticed, she didn’t let on. She put her arm around my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Claire.”
I shook my head. “It’s all right. It was probably too soon to talk to her, but I had to try.”
“You did the right thing.” She addressed Lucy, “I told her I would be back to check on her later, but she’s calm now.”
“Good. In a week or so, send her around to me again—there are some things I can do to help heal her mind and emotions, if she is willing.” She tucked her arm around Dietrich’s. “I need to report to your healer. Would you show me the way to her office?”
“Of course, Auntie Lu.” He nodded to Nadine and me. “I’ll return in a few minutes.”
Lucy bid us goodbye, and then Dietrich escorted her away. When it was just Nadine and me, I sank down on the small settee.
“Is this how you felt when you brought me home? So helpless. Like I should have done something more.”
She sat beside me and pulled me into her arms. “My dear child,” she murmured. “Yes, and every day since then.”
I clung to her, my breathing harsh and deep, trying not to cry. None of us had wanted to bring up the performance in front of Lucy, but it was time now. I pulled back, drawing a slow, calming breath. “I’ll do the performance. I’ll take Delphine’s place. I can do it—I know the script, and I can shift.”
Nadine was already shaking her head. “Absolutely not. It’s out of the question. I’ve already talked to Master Fenrey, and we’ve agreed that I will do it, no matter what the Guild says. It’s what I should have insisted on to begin with.”
“But I could do it safer—if something goes wrong, I can change shape. I could get away.”
“You’re not ready yet. Not even close.”
“I can be ready.”
Her eyes grew fierce. “I won’t risk you, Claire. Not on my behalf.”
“I don’t want you to die!”
She pulled me close again. “Nor I, you.” She smoothed my hair. “The rozzers will be there. They’ll keep me safe.”
“No they won’t,” I said, my voice muffled against the high collar of her gown. “They weren’t really planning on Delphine surviving. She’s just an apprentice.” The bitterness in my voice stung even me. “You won’t be able to tell them it’s really you—not if you don’t want the Guild to know. They’re not there to protect you. All they want is to catch the Peacock.”
“And they will. And I’ll live. But I can’t let you take my place, Claire. I just can’t.”
As she held me, I realized she spoke the truth. She couldn’t let me take her place. Even thou
gh I had a better chance of surviving, even though she would be defying the Guild. Even though she’d probably die.
She couldn’t let me do it—because she loved me too much.
A hot tear burned a trail down my cheek and disappeared into the organza of her gown. I couldn’t let her do it either. I loved her too much, too.
I choked on a giggle. It came out as a sob. We were a fine pair. Like mother, like daughter?
I could always hope.
A plan formed in my mind. If she couldn’t let me take her place, I’d simply have to force her into it, for her own good. By the time Dietrich returned, I had it mostly figured out. If I could convince him to help me, it would work.
Nadine hovered and fussed, clearly not comfortable leaving me alone with Dietrich. Finally, he suggested she should check on Delphine again while he and I went to update Thea and Raymond. Nadine gave him a sharp, wary glare but finally relented. As soon as she disappeared into the girls’ wing again, he winked at me and motioned to the doorway. The hall was deserted—everyone was in training sessions.
“After you, Miss Mellor.”
As I went to brush past him through the door, he grabbed my hand, holding it down at my side. He pressed a warm kiss on my neck, behind my ear. My breath caught, but I leaned into him.
“You volunteered to do the performance, didn’t you?” he murmured.
“How did you know?”
“I know you.”
I smiled. “She refused. She is insisting on doing it herself.”
“I’m unsurprised. I know her, too.” Still holding my hand, he studied my face. “So what are we going to do?”
“You tell me—you’re so smart.”
“Are you being impudent to a director?” His eyes glimmered even though he wasn’t smiling.
After a quick glance at the hall, I grabbed his lapels, rising on my toes to pull him toward me. “Yes. And the director likes it.”
“You’re so sure?”
I brushed my lips against his. “I know him.”
His lips curved against mine. “Touché.”
He pulled away reluctantly. It was really too foolish of us to be sneaking kisses in front of an open doorway where anyone might walk by. That’s probably what made it so fun.
“So what am I planning?” I asked him again.
His eyes pierced through me. “You wouldn’t be thinking of abducting the most famous actress in the Empire, would you?”
I gave him a sly grin. “I would never dream of such a thing, Presul Wolff.”
“Of course not.” He stepped back to allow me to walk through the doorway.
We walked side by side down the hall. His amusement faded, and he grew quite serious.
“Can you do it, Minx? Really? Perform, I mean.”
I pushed down the doubts, the terror that still wanted to rise up and scream no. “Yes. I’m quite determined.”
“It will be an overwhelming amount of work, even for someone with your ability.”
“I know. And I still have devices to create again.” And learn how to use, myself. The thought was chilling.
“I will work with Dame Fairchild at rehearsals, and then with you afterwards. Every night. And we’ll ask Miss Wright and Mr. Carrew to help with the other part of your plan.”
To kidnap Nadine. “Yes, I think they’ll be willing.” Even if Raymond was angry with me, he wouldn’t turn away when we needed him.
Something was troubling Dietrich. The longer we walked, the more agitated he became. He found an empty training room and pulled me inside, shutting the door. He crushed me to himself, his kiss searing my lips. “You must not die.”
I cupped his cheek in my hand. “We’ll do what we can to prevent it.”
He kissed me again, possessing me with his mouth until we both were clinging to each other for support. “I’ll do whatever it takes for you to live, Gia. I promise.”
I had no doubt about that—I knew him.
And the knowledge filled me with dark dread, like the heaviness of air before a storm.
That night, I waited until the Guild members had completed their rehearsal and left the main stage. There wasn’t a sound as I walked down the thickly-carpeted aisle toward the dark form sitting motionless in the front row. He was hunched forward, elbows on knees, head bowed as if in prayer.
“I’m here,” I whispered. I could almost hear my heart beating in the stillness.
He lifted his head. His eyes met mine, and they were deep, hypnotic. Gone was the young man who had playfully flirted with me earlier today.
This was the brilliant, powerful director whose magic even now filled the space between us. This was magic whose limits had not begun to be tested. I wondered—did he realize how strong he truly was? I had not sensed the fullness of it, had not let myself sense it, until this moment.
But now, it overwhelmed my senses. I breathed it in, felt it flowing over my hands, my face—this knowledge of his power, the awareness that he was so much more than the carnival master could ever be.
This was the magic, the power I would have to give myself over to in order to save Nadine. The one thing I swore I’d never do again, and here it was before me.
My breath quickened. The blood beat in my ears and throat. This was madness.
He stood.
I stepped back, hoping he wouldn’t notice my fear.
He untied his cravat and unwrapped it from his neck. His fingers slid under his shirt collar and pulled out a finely wrought silver chain. It slipped over his head, and he held it to unclasp one half of the chain from the other.
My throat felt parched, burnt like ash.
He refastened the remaining chain around his neck and held out the other half to me.
The carved and gilded walls of the theater rippled like the surface of a pool.
His sister’s chain. I took it with trembling hands. There was no possible way I’d be able to fasten it around my neck—I shook too hard. I settled for looping the chain around my wrist, like a bracelet.
It seemed to smolder against my flesh.
I felt as though I should tell him thank you for giving me one of his dearest treasures, but the words wouldn’t come.
My own magic flowed into the chain, rushing and tumbling like a river unleashed from its channel. It poured out, greeting his with a thunderous roar that filled my ears and made the room spin.
Ready? His voice thrummed, not in my ears but in my mind.
My heart hammered against my chest, a prisoner begging for relief. But there would be none. No escape, no mercy.
Are you ready? he asked again.
I stared into his eyes and pulled his magic around me. Was I ready? Never.
Yes.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Let’s go on the stage,” Dietrich suggested quietly. His face was tight, his body tense.
I felt the turbulence of his emotions through our mental connection—grief, uncertainty, self-doubt. Determination. He slipped past me and strode to the side access steps leading to the stage.
What’s wrong? The question slipped from my mind tentatively, sliding along the connection to him.
I followed him onto the stage, waiting for a response. He stood in front of the massive set piece of the ship’s deck, in the center of the ghost light, where we had first kissed.
The blurred image of an alley formed in my mind. A huge gray dog baring its teeth. A gunshot.
A little girl lying on the cobblestones.
A puddle of blood pooling on the stones, seeping into the cracks between.
That was the last time I directed full shape-shifting magic. That was the last time anyone but myself wore her chain. Until tonight.
My breath hissed through my lips. This was as hard for him as it was for me. He had his back to me, his head bowed, and his shoulders hunched. I walked up behind him and slid my hand into his.
Are you ready?
He looked at me over his shoulder, his eyes wistful, his smile sad. With
out releasing my hand, he turned to me. “I have to be. We both do.”
We can do this, Dietrich. Together. You and me. I tried not to feel afraid. I wanted to be strong, for him.
He brushed my cheek with his fingers. You and me. Then, out loud, “What do you want to try?”
“To shift into?”
He nodded.
My chest tightened. “Just Nadine.” She, or the closest approximation possible, was the only person I felt safe trying to shift into. I supposed I would have to practice some other shapes—probably animals—as part of my escape plan, but tonight, Nadine was the only being I could envision becoming.
“All right then.” He took several steps back, until he stood at the edge of the ghost light’s circle, half in shadow.
My breathing grew short and shallow. My stomach knotted. Memories pressed in around me.
Don’t think about the past. Dietrich’s magic swirled around me. This is now. New.
I exhaled, shaking.
“Close your eyes.” His spoken words hummed with magic, low and commanding. Pretend you’ve never done this before. Let me guide you through it.
My eyes drifted shut. I heard my blood pounding in my ears. The room grew cold—or maybe it was only me.
Create her in your mind.
That was different. I was never allowed to form the shifting image.
Don’t think about before. Only now. Now, you are my partner, my equal.
“Give me her image,” Dietrich said. “Show me what you see when you think of Nadine Fairchild.”
I built her in my mind, starting with her smile. Her grace, her beauty, her inner strength. All the things I loved about her—the way she never gave up on finding me, the kindness in her touch as she calmed my nightmares, the gentleness in her eyes. I constructed her the way I would one of my devices, only instead of springs and gears, I made her out of all the memories I’d treasured of her.
Well done. Dietrich chuckled. “In fact, probably too well done. We’ll need to make some adjustments or she will be too close to the real Nadine for the magic to work.” Using his magic, he made the image a little shorter, her brown eyes a little lighter. “I think she should be a bit bolder, somewhat less gentle—given that she’s facing a murderer, don’t you think?”
Chains of Silver: a YA Theater Steampunk Novel (Alchemy Empire Book 1) Page 29
