“Yes, good idea.” Those are probably enough changes. There are already so many ways I can never be like her—her wisdom, her compassion, her patience.
He squeezed my hands. You are closer than you think.
“How does she compare to Delphine’s image of her?”
“Interesting question. Delphine began with physical appearance and worked inward to create an image of her soul. You started with her soul and let that shape her body.”
“Is it better to do it that way?”
His laughter rumbled in my mind. You just want to know if I think you’re better than Delphine.
I huffed. Well, am I?
I’m hardly an unbiased judge, cariad.
I grinned. “Thank you.”
My attention returned to the now-completed Nadine image. My amusement faded. I knew what came next. I drew a slow breath.
It’s going to be all right.
I appreciate his attempt to reassure me, but it did little to calm my nerves. Let’s get this over with.
He dropped my hands and stood back. His magic began to pulse and pound.
The rhythm of a heart.
The unrelenting swoosh of blood coursing beneath skin.
The hush of breath. In. And out.
Draw her toward you.
My magic pulled Nadine’s image to me. She grew larger, the life beat of Dietrich’s magic grew louder.
They surrounded me.
The rhythm became more insistent, forceful, until my own heartbeat stuttered, unable to hold its own against the power pressing in.
I struggled to breathe on my own.
Don’t fight it. Relax. Let it take you.
I can’t. I’m scared.
Just try. For me. I’m right here. Shift for me.
Shift for me.
The words exploded in my mind. I heard the calliope, smelled the professor’s sweat, rancid cigar, and cheap cologne.
I tried to pull back, to stop the magic transforming me. But it was too late. Nadine’s image flamed to life in my heart. It radiated out from there, burning me away.
I don’t want to do this. I want to stop. I tried again to separate my magic from his. But I couldn’t.
My bones lengthened, my skin stretched and tore. And all I could see were the other women I’d become—for him. He couldn’t have Nadine, too. Not her. Even if it killed me, he would not have her.
Power burst from me, stopping the transformation. My body seized with pain. I screamed without sound. I glanced at my form. It wasn’t all Nadine, but it wasn’t all me either.
Minx, darling, you’re doing fine. Calm down. He sounded worried.
I lurched toward the source of the magic, a wild growl bursting from me.
All right. We’ll stop. I felt his magic tugging away from mine. He should have been able to separate from me.
But he couldn’t.
Everything became tangled, hazy. I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t her.
It was his fault.
I threw myself at him, a swirling frenzy of motion and rage. My fist swung.
He caught it before I connected, his hand hard like a manacle around my wrist.
An image of an iron bar formed in my mind. I felt the burn of power, and I swung my other arm.
It had been become the iron bar.
It cracked against his skull. He let me go, staggering back, blood pouring down the side of his face.
Minx, no!
But his voice was the carnival master’s. Terror flamed through me. I attacked again, this time, my hand became the bull whip he had always threatened me with. It snapped around him, cutting a curling gash across his shoulder. He screamed, dropping to his knees as the gash seeped red through the fabric of his shirt. The whip flashed again and again, until red welts criss crossed his arms and neck and face.
He scrambled to stand. Grabbed the whip and wrapped it around his fist, pulling me closer.
Our tangled magic struggled together, like two rats caught in the same trap.
I felt the fiery power again, and the whip disappeared.
I leaped on him. He twisted under me, throwing me off. I flew at him again, my fists transforming into spiked clubs.
He blocked my punches, barely escaping the metal spikes. His foot slammed into my stomach.
I tumbled to the floor, unable to pull air into my lungs.
Miss Wright! His voice thundered through our mental connection, urgent and fierce. Mainstage, now. Or she will kill me.
His magic surged, but not toward me. In the distance, there was an answering pulse of power. Somewhere deep inside, I felt relief. But then his eyes turned to me, and they were an inferno of emerald fire.
I pulled myself to my feet, and we circled each other, wary. I hurtled toward him, and we fell together. We wrestled, and I latched onto his back. I wrapped my arm around his neck, and my arm turned into a leather strap. I pulled on it with my other hand, and it tightened against his throat.
He clawed at it with one hand, choking and gagging. Minx, don’t do this. Please! His supporting arm crumpled. It was enough to throw me off balance. He pried my fingers from the strap and threw me over his head.
I landed on my back. Before I could transform again, he flipped me to my stomach and shoved his knee down on my spine. He yanked my arms behind my back, immobilizing me.
My arms turned into snakes. They curled and hissed, striking at him. He gripped them both behind their heads with one hand. He was coughing, his breath hoarse and rattling in his throat.
He wrestled with one of the snakes. A silver chain clattered to the floor next to me. It slid across the wood, stopping only inches from the edge of the stage. I couldn’t hear his thoughts anymore.
Pain spiked along the ridge from my neck to my shoulder. I screamed. My left arm went numb. The snakes turned into arms again. Another sharp burst on the other side, and my body went limp.
He forced my arms behind my back again and held them. I couldn’t move.
The Quiet Place swept me up into its nothingness. I left my patchwork body and floated overhead. All was hushed, and I couldn’t feel the pain and fear anymore. The magic connection faded away, and the girl’s body became totally her own once again.
He sensed my absence and released the girl’s arms. He dropped to the floor beside her, laying on his side and smoothing her hair. I felt his touch as if I were lying under several wool blankets. Blood and tears mingled on his face, and he coughed and shuddered.
He was crying. “So sorry, Gia. I’m so terribly sorry.”
The backstage door of the theater crashed open.
“Dietrich! Oh my god, Raymond. Look at them!” It was the voice of the blond girl—the one with the mean punch. She ran to the two lying on the stage and knelt beside them.
The ginger-haired boy followed her, his eyes wide and his face pale.
The man on the floor looked up at them. “I’m fine,” he gasped. “Help her.”
The blond girl fumbled in her bag for something. She withdrew a small jar. It looked familiar to me. She unscrewed the lid and held it under the girl’s nose.
The odor slammed into me. Oh, right—smelling salts.
The Quiet World released me. I felt myself sucked back into the girl’s body. I spiraled back into the pain and fear.
And shame.
I groaned. My mind cleared. My eyes opened.
Dietrich was lying on the floor staring at me.
I moved my arms off my back. He flinched.
Understanding of what I’d just done flooded my heart. He was bleeding because of me. I’d nearly killed him. I’d always been frightened of him, but now he should be scared of me.
I’d become the monster.
I let out a wail and buried my head in my arms.
“What the bloody hell happened?” Raymond’s voice sounded like he’d knelt next to Thea.
“They were trying to shapeshift Minx,” Thea said. I heard her screw the lid back on the jar of smelling salts. “You bot
h need a healer.”
“Shapeshift?”
I could feel Raymond’s shock. And maybe a thread of anger. It was yet another thing I’d kept secret from him.
“She’s a vicimorph. With vicicorpus magic.”
Raymond swore. “That doesn’t explain why he’s bleeding all over the stage.”
“I don’t know what happened,” Dietrich rasped. “Our magic locked somehow. She lost control, and I couldn’t break the connection. Couldn’t escape farther than the edge of the ghost light either.”
“It was bloody stupid of you both to try it,” Thea said. “Especially alone. You knew how unstable she is!”
Her words pierced me. She was right—I was unstable. I was a danger. My magic and my crazy, corrupted soul had almost killed a man I cared about.
In that moment, I wanted to die.
“I thought I could handle it.” Dietrich’s tone was heavy. I knew him well enough by now to know he probably was blaming himself for everything.
Ridiculous, of course. The fault was entirely mine. I never should have suggested trying to shift.
I heard fabric ripping.
“Here,” Thea said, “let’s get your head to stop bleeding at least. How are we going to get you to a healer without anyone knowing what happened?”
“Never mind that. Minx, are you all right?”
Dietrich’s hand rested heavily on my shoulder.
My body jerked, and I rolled to my side, my back to him. “I’m uninjured.”
“Look at me.” His voice was regaining its steady command.
“I can’t.” My throat clogged with shame and tears.
“Gia.” He said it with such tenderness. But all I could see in my mind was his bloodied face, flinching from me. There was no way I could look at him now.
I curled into a ball, shaking. “Go. Get healed. This was a horrible idea. I…I can’t even tell you how sorry I am. Just go.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Raymond said gently. “We’ll get everything cleaned up here. You take Presul Wolff to Mistress Davies. Go out the loading dock doors, and hire a public carriage.”
“I’m not leaving her,” Dietrich insisted.
“Don’t be a cog-head. Raymond is right,” Thea said. “Minx, are you sure you don’t need to see the healer too?”
“I’m sure. Please, leave.”
I heard Thea heave a sigh. “Come on, Dietrich. I don’t like the looks of that gash.”
I groaned.
Dietrich grunted, and I heard him get to his feet.
“Whoa!” Thea’s voice sounded alarmed. “Steady. Here, put your arm around my shoulder and let me help you.”
The sound of their footsteps faded. I wanted to sob, but suddenly all I felt was tired and numb. Raymond helped me stand. He put his arms around me and held me while I trembled. It was good of him to do so after all I had put him through.
When I stopped shaking, he stepped back. His touch had been gentle, but his face was hard and unsmiling. “Vicicorpus magic. I suppose that makes sense.”
I cringed at the coldness in his tone. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve realized in the past few weeks that I have no idea who you really are. You take on whatever form you think will get you what you want from people. It’s all a big act to you because you won’t trust anyone with the real you.”
“That’s not true.” Only it kind of was. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” I rasped.
His eyes had turned to gray shards of ice. “I was infatuated with an illusion. A person can’t be hurt by something that doesn’t exist.”
His words were laced with his fabulamancy. They sliced through me, potent and poisonous.
“I’m not an illusion. I do exist. This is who I am, Raymond. Not all of it is pretty. Or the way it should be. But it is me. I didn’t share everything with you, but I haven’t lied to you.”
He didn’t respond. “Can you make it to your room?”
My shoulders slumped. He wasn’t going to relent. He wasn’t going to forgive.
I’d lost him.
I drew a shaky breath, fighting back tears. “I need to help you clean up.”
“No. Go to bed. I’ll take care of things here.”
I didn’t have any more energy to argue. Barely able to look at him, I slipped away and hurried to my room.
I struggled out of my dress and corset. I splashed cold water on my face. My body aching, I crawled under the blankets and pulled them over my head. The room was quiet and empty without Thea.
I stared into the dark, replaying the disaster in my mind. None of it made any sense. I didn’t understand what had gone wrong or why we had ended up trapped in our own magic. But I knew the shame and pain of it would haunt me the rest of my life.
A trickle of hot tears rolled down my face, my neck, soaking into my pillow. I only hoped Dietrich would be all right. I couldn’t bear the idea that I’d destroyed two of the best gents in the world in less than twenty-four hours.
It was over, and I’d failed. I would never try to use my magic that way again. I couldn’t risk unleashing the monster.
Not even for Nadine.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The next day was Saturday, and while the other apprentices were studying or spending their pocket money on sweets or street vendors, I locked myself in my studio and threw myself into the redesign of my gadgets.
Thea tried to talk to me while we dressed for breakfast, but I refused. She said Lucy had been able to heal Dietrich’s latest injuries with no trouble, which was a relief, but I couldn’t bear to sit through a breakfast and talk and pretend everything was fine and that I didn’t hate myself. I filched a roll, some fruit preserves, and a small jar of milk, and took them to the studio before anyone could stop me to chat. But I couldn’t eat.
I tried to regain my former enthusiasm for making devices. My machines were works of art. I could usually lose myself in forming the perfect spring, in meshing two tiny gears together in liquid precision. I loved to sketch out a new idea, loved to stretch the boundaries of what was to make possible what could be. The tang of copper and gleam of brass, the weight of iron and strength of steel—these used to feel alive to me when I held them in my hands.
But not today.
Now, the metal was silent and cold. Dead. Where I had found joy in creation, now it all felt like drudgery.
The studio was too quiet. My self-recriminations and regrets were too loud.
I should feel relieved. If Master Fenrey would tell the Guild and the police who would be performing, Nadine would probably be safe. The police wouldn’t let the empire’s star actress be killed. They would have no choice but to do everything possible to protect her.
And I would do my part by making my devices for her and teaching her to use them.
But what if it wasn’t enough? What if the unthinkable happened?
I’d have to live the rest of my life knowing I could have saved her—if I’d been braver.
Stronger.
More…how did Thea put it? Oh yes. More stable.
I didn’t leave the studio for lunch. Just nibbled on the roll I had taken from breakfast. I crept out once in the afternoon to stretch and use the lavatory. I was grateful not to see anyone in the halls.
Hours later, I’d just completed reconstructing the honorometer when a soft knock sounded at the door. I felt his magic before he said a word.
“Minx?” and then softer, “Gia, cariad?”
Dietrich’s mellow voice made my heart clench. I couldn’t answer him.
“I know you’re there.”
I squeezed shut my eyes. They burned from exhaustion and unshed tears.
“And that you don’t want to talk to me.”
His voice sounded so good after my self-imposed isolation all day. Maybe I should open the door. But then I pictured how he’d looked, bloodied and wounded, choking on the floor. Because of what I’d done.
I couldn’t face him.
I remained silent, hard
ly breathing.
“I missed you today, Gia.”
Missed what? Getting his skull bashed in? Being lashed with my unstable magic? I almost laughed out loud even though I wasn’t in the least bit amused.
He was silent so long, I began to wonder if he had left. But then, “I brought you dinner. I’m leaving it by the door. You should eat.”
I heard him set down a tray. Another long hesitation. Then the wood floor in the hall creaked with his retreating footsteps.
I waited another few minutes, fearing he’d only gone around the corner and was waiting to catch me when I opened the door.
But when I finally eased the door open, the hall was empty, except for a tray of cooling food and some tea. I brought it inside.
And felt lonelier than I’d ever felt before.
The next day was much the same, except I had to sit through church service. I glimpsed Raymond sitting with Walter and Evelyn. He didn’t spare me even a glance. Thea, though, watched me silently.
I felt Dietrich watching me, too.
The sermon was about how love is patient and kind, doesn’t envy or boast, is not proud. It doesn’t dishonor people, and it’s not easily angered. It doesn’t keep score. The rector went and ruined it by talking about how this is how we should love the empire as well as each other. But the words haunted me.
Love always protects,
always trusts,
always hopes,
always perseveres.
What if I couldn’t do those things? What if I could never love anyone that way, not Thea or Raymond, not Dietrich, not even the woman who saved me?
I didn’t want to fail at love, too.
Back in my studio, I couldn’t concentrate. I tried, but I became more and more restless until finally I gave up, locked the studio, and headed to Barlow Public Gardens to my pagoda.
I didn’t usually go there during the day because of the danger that someone would see me sneaking into the pagoda. But I needed to be there, needed to find the peace it brought me. And no one saw. I sat on the floor, my back to the stone ledge that ran the perimeter of the octagonal room.
I hadn’t been there long when I heard the door creak and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. When I looked up and saw Thea, I wasn’t really that surprised. I knew she’d find me.
Chains of Silver: a YA Theater Steampunk Novel (Alchemy Empire Book 1) Page 30
