But what I didn’t expect to see was Raymond behind her. A jolt of sweet happiness made my heart stumble. Regret and shame followed close behind. Why would he be here, after what he’d said to me two nights ago? I tried to read his face, to see how angry he still was, but his expression told me nothing.
He settled on the floor across from me, and Thea sat beside me, her skirt and petticoats poofing around her like a deflated hot air balloon collapsing to the ground.
It seemed like so long since it had been just the three of us. We belonged together, even after how I’d made a mess of it all. I didn’t want it to ever change, even though I knew it would. It already had.
They didn’t say anything right away. Just watched me. Anyone else doing that would have made me feel uncomfortable. But with them, it was as if they were holding me, even though we weren’t touching.
I felt Thea probing me with her magic. I blocked her at first, more from habit than anything else. But then I thought—why? Yesterday, I’d isolated myself, and had it helped? No. All I got for my trouble was the feeling that I’d been entombed in my studio. Raymond was right—I should have trusted both of them more. Maybe I should just let her in. She had seen me at my worst anyway. She already knew I was unstable. Why fight it?
I relaxed my mental barriers. She looked startled but then I felt her magic tentatively creep into my mind, gentle and respectful.
I let her see how awful I felt about hurting Dietrich, how terrified I was that I might have killed him. How frustrating it was to have started to hope again, only to find out that I was so terribly far from being whole. How shameful it felt to know that I had the ability to keep Nadine safe, but couldn’t use it.
I also showed her my guilt and sorrow over hurting Raymond. How I feared our friendship was ruined. How much I would regret it if he weren’t part of my life.
All the things I could never say aloud—I showed her in my mind.
She didn’t say anything. Just took my hand and leaned her head on my shoulder.
Then, “I remember the first time you ever brought me here.”
I snorted. “I didn’t bring you. You followed me, just like today.”
Across from me, Raymond’s somber eyes bored into me.
I felt Thea shrug. “Whatever. It was in our fifth year, and you had tried to go to training with everyone else for the first time since you came back.”
That had been a wretched day. “Everyone stared at me like I was some sort of freak. All the whispers and curious looks.” I exhaled. The memory was still difficult.
“You only made it through half of your first class. I remember you turned pale as a muslin scene drop, and I really thought you were going to be sick.”
“I almost was.”
“I know. I could feel it. You ran from the class. You came here.”
“And you followed me.”
“You’d only been my roommate for a week or two, but I was already on my way to loving you.”
Tears pricked my eyes. Declarations of love were blasted uncomfortable, but on some level I longed for them. I didn’t look at Raymond—too awkward.
Thea’s magic had picked up on my discomfort. She smoothed my hand with her thumb. “I had lots of friends, but you seemed like someone that could be my best friend, like a sister. I was scared that you wouldn’t come back. I didn’t want to lose you.”
“I’m sorry for being such a bloody mess.”
Not just then, but every day since then. And now. I’m sorry.
She stiffened. “You’re not. So quit apologizing. Do you remember what I told you that day?”
I scowled. “No.”
She tilted her head to give me a withering look. “Liar.” Then she snuggled down again and smiled at Raymond. “I told her that she was a warrior and she had to keep fighting so that the scoundrel that kidnapped her wouldn’t win. If she didn’t go to class and if she didn’t learn how to live again, then she would be letting him win. She has to fight to have a full and amazing life. She has to be a warrior.”
Raymond looked grim. “Good advice. Be a warrior, Minx.”
You were a warrior, Gia. Such a warrior. I tried to block the memory of Dietrich’s praise from my mind. “And obviously, I did. I went back to class, and I made friends.”
Raymond’s laughter was hollow, tinted with bitterness. “You charmed everyone even as you pulled the most outrageous stunts. Remember the dancing trees in Robin Hood?” He was trying so hard to be supportive. Thea had probably coaxed him into coming with her, but the fact that he was here made me hope that our friendship wasn’t totally lost after all.
I gave him a tentative smile, thinking back to the dancing trees. At the end of that fifth year, I had rigged the trees in the forest set to start shimmying and bobbing whenever Robin Hood and Maid Marian kissed. It took them three times during rehearsal before they figured out why everyone else, including the director, was giggling.
Elizabeth Hedley, the eighth year who’d played Maid Marian, had been a regular brick about it. She’d doubled over laughing and had hollered, “Claire Mellor, you’re such a little minx!”
The nickname had stuck, and I wasn’t sure how many people remembered now what my given name actually was. I preferred it that way—hearing my real name from almost anyone but Nadine gave me chills. Being the clever, mischievous Minx was highly preferable to being the traumatized, pale Claire I had been at first. Becoming Minx was how I’d fought to regain my life.
“I’m a damn good warrior,” I said now.
“Yes you are,” Thea responded. “And that’s why you have to keep fighting. You’re not done yet.”
My shoulders stiffened. I pushed her off me. “Oh yes I am! The last two weeks, I’ve done nothing but fight every single day trying to do the right thing, even though it terrifies the grease out of me. And I almost killed Dietrich. I most certainly am done.”
Raymond leaned toward me, his expression intense. “What about Nadine? I know you—if something happens to her, you’ll blame yourself.”
“She’s an adult,” I protested. “She made her own decision. She’s right—the Guild shouldn’t risk apprentices just because they don’t bring in as much money to the theaters.”
“She is right about that.” Thea shifted so she was now facing me. “And believe me, I hate the thought of you putting yourself in danger with the Peacock. I hate the idea of the Peacock hurting anyone here at our theater. But even more than that, I hate the idea that if you give up now, if you don’t fight this battle, the carnival master will have won. You’ll be letting him destroy your life.”
“If being able to use my vicicorpus magic is what you define as winning the fight, then I think he’s already defeated me. You saw what I did to Dietrich. I don’t think killing him is going to help Nadine any, though the Peacock may thank me.”
“What if you could be assured Dietrich would be safe?” Raymond hugged one knee to his chest and slid his glasses higher on his face. “Would you be willing to try again in that case?”
“He’d be utterly cogged to let me anywhere near him after what happened Friday.”
Raymond and Thea exchanged a glance.
“What?” I looked between the two of them. “Is he all right? Is he angry?”
“He’s just fine,” Thea reassured me. “And of course he isn’t angry.”
“I probably terrified him.”
“Don’t underestimate him.” Thea raised her brows. “You didn’t terrify him. You made him more determined. He’s a fighter.”
Unlike me, she meant. Damn it, she knew how to rouse the competitive part of me that really, really hated to lose, hated to fail. Hated for anyone to be better than me. “Sounds like you’ve been talking to him?”
“We have a plan,” Raymond said.
“We? All three of you?” Last I knew, Raymond had cut me out of his life. And now he was willing to help us? Maybe he was the one I was underestimating.
“While you were attacking Dietrich, he
called to me mentally. Raymond and I were in the courtyard, but I heard him in my mind as clearly as you can hear me now.”
I flinched at the word “attacking” but it was the truth, so why soften it? “I heard him call for you—we were connected through the chains. I couldn’t hear you reply, but I felt your magic.”
Raymond looked a little confused. I had forgotten—how to use the different types of magic was a closely guarded secret. Someone without vicimorph or presul magic wouldn’t necessarily know how they communicated during partnering. I didn’t take the time to explain to him—we could tell him later.
“Ah,” Thea murmured. “That makes sense.”
“I didn’t know you could reply. Any time you’ve read my mind, you haven’t been able to talk to me. How did you do it?”
She shrugged. “We were trying to figure that out. I think Dietrich’s directing magic let him seek me out and contact me. I don’t know how I was able to answer him, though. That’s never happened before. But we tried it again yesterday, and we were able to repeat it.”
I didn’t really like the idea that she and Dietrich were playing with their new magic powers while I’d been isolated in my studio. And I didn’t like that she could communicate with him mentally without using the chains.
Thea sniggered. “Jealous much?”
My face heated. I’d forgotten to shield my thoughts from her. “Can you do it with anyone else?”
“Raymond and I tried. I can access his mind, but not speak into it. We think that maybe there’s more to presul magic than we thought. We were playing with it yesterday, and it turns out that he can use my psychic magic to amplify his own.”
“It’s not just you, either.” Raymond’s face lit up for the first time since he arrived. “His magic can connect with mine too.”
“What can he do with fabulamancy?” I said, trying not to sound dismissive.
Raymond gave me a smug look. “Comagica, just like vicimorphs—and apparently psychics. He can connect with it. When we tried yesterday, we were able to project an image in the air based on my description of it. It was transparent, and we couldn’t make it last for very long, but even Thea could see it.”
“I’m impressed. What was the image?”
He looked abashed. “Dinner.”
Thea and I giggled.
“I was hungry!”
I grew serious. “This is all really fascinating. But what does it have to do with my magic and making sure that if—if—I tried using it again, I don’t end up killing our brilliant presul?”
“We can help you—we’ve got it all figured out.” Thea smiled at Raymond, her eyes sparkling. “We can explain back at the theater—it was Dietrich’s idea.”
“He wants me to give it another try?” For some reason, the thought made me warm, almost daring to hope again.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Thea grabbed my hand. “It was cogocity for the two of you to attempt it alone, but the four of us together should be able to get you through it safely.”
“And what will you do if I start shifting into a one-woman army and attack all three of you?”
Thea grinned. “Dietrich’s going to bring his sword.”
The image of me sparring with a sweaty and shirtless Dietrich sent fire down my spine. Was it bad to almost hope he’d have to fight me?
Thea collapsed in giggles. Bloody hell, I’d forgotten to block my thoughts from her again. Go away, I told her firmly.
She only laughed harder.
Raymond observed the two of us suspiciously. There was no way I was going to explain it to him.
I leaned my head back until it rested on the surface of the stone ledge. I closed my eyes. Should I try again? The idea made me want to go to sleep and not wake up for weeks or months. If I was a warrior, I was an exhausted one. The task seemed too big.
But if my friends were there to help…
Could I let them? Could I trust them, welcome them into this darkest part of me? I’d let Dietrich in, but despite my fascination with him, it wasn’t the same as these two who had been there for me every day for three years. They, especially Thea, knew that I was dark and broken. But bringing them into my magic—they might have to experience the darkness firsthand. If I lost them, if my brokenness drove them away, if I hurt them more—I wouldn’t have the strength or will to keep fighting. At the airship club, when I’d kissed Raymond, I had told him I needed him. But the truth was, I needed them both. And that, in some ways, was the most terrifying knowledge of all.
But I wanted to win the battle—against the Peacock, against Jensen Cornelius.
Against myself.
“So what about it, Minx?” Thea’s voice nudged me, quiet and forceful.
I drew a slow breath. Opened my eyes. They both watched me, patient. Persistent. Hopeful.
Just as love should be.
Just as I wanted to be.
I exhaled. “All right. I’ll give it one more try.”
Thea squealed and threw her arms around me. “I knew you would!”
Raymond gave me a soft smile. But a sadness in his eyes made me lean away from Thea. “I suppose Dietrich is waiting for us?”
She nodded. “He never doubted you for a second.”
“More likely, he didn’t doubt your powers of persuasion.”
Thea stood and shook the dust from her skirts. “That, too. At any rate, he is waiting. Let’s go.”
I glanced at Raymond again. “Go ahead and go downstairs,” I told Thea. “I’d like to talk to Raymond, alone, for a moment.”
She frowned slightly, but nodded. “I’ll wait by the bridge.”
When she had gone, Raymond settled back against the stone ledge opposite me. I wanted to have him next to me, but I didn’t feel right asking. He watched me with a wary expression.
“It’s good of you to help us,” I said.
“Not any more so than Thea helping you.”
“But—”
“What did you want to talk about?” He spoke gently, but there was tension in his voice.
“Are you still angry at me?”
He hesitated. “I’m hurt, Minx. And worried about what’s going to happen to you if word gets out that you’re having an affair with a presul.”
“We are not having an affair.”
“No? A bathtub rendezvous would suggest otherwise.”
“You are still angry.”
He looked away, his jaw set. He closed his eyes briefly, and his face relaxed. “As I said, I’m hurt.” He flicked a glance at me. “And angry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.”
I didn’t miss the fact that he hadn’t forgiven me. My heart ached. “Hardly anything happened. I was feeling overwhelmed, I went to his suite, he invited me in and asked me to sit down, but I felt too dirty and smelly to sit on his nice furniture. He offered to let me take a bath.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“Yes, I do, so shut up and let me give it.”
He glowered at me, but closed his mouth.
I swallowed hard. “He left the suite to find me a new set of clothes. When he returned, he stayed in his parlor until I was finished and dressed. He offered me tea. He was a gentleman.”
“And that’s it?” Raymond looked skeptical.
“We did kiss—fully clothed, in the parlor. But that’s all we did.” I decided it wouldn’t serve any purpose to tell him we would have done a little more than that if he hadn’t knocked on the door when he had. That would just be cruel.
He snorted. “If that’s true, Wolff’s a better man than I am.” He raised one eyebrow at me.
I knew what he meant—if it had been him, he wouldn’t have been content with just a kiss. My face heated. “You are both the very best of men.”
“Lucky you.”
“Look, until a couple weeks ago, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to hold a boy’s hand, much less kiss him.”
“Making up for l
ost time?”
“Don’t, Raymond.” I twisted my hands together. “Don’t mock me. Please. I don’t mean to hurt anyone. I don’t mean to shut you out of my life or be less than honest with you about who and what I am. I’m sorry for all of it. I don’t even know how I feel right now toward either of you. I’m confused, and I’m a mess. And in spite of all that, I’ve got to confront a serial killer and keep Nadine safe. Can you cut me some slack on the whole romance thing for right now?”
He looked at the floor, the fight leaving him. “I’m sorry. That night at the Airship Club—it meant a lot to me.”
“It meant a lot to me, too.”
“I know.” He hesitated, but finally the tension faded. “All right, we’ll just wait until this whole thing with the Peacock is over. I don’t expect you to get yourself figured out immediately, but don’t you expect me to make it easy for you.”
“What do you mean?”
He met my eyes, and his were glowing like sun behind fog. “I wasn’t planning to be your friend anymore. Not just because of Dietrich. You should have trusted me—at least enough to tell me you were a vicimorph. I don’t know how we can be real friends if you won’t trust me.”
“It wasn’t really about trust.” I didn’t want to sound like I was making excuses, but I wanted him to understand. “I have trusted you for a long time.”
“Then why didn’t you let me in?”
“Because my vicicorpus magic was why I was kidnapped. And talking about what happened is like experiencing it all over again.”
He was quiet for a time. I saw the struggle on his face—to understand, to not be angry that I’d found a way to share my past with Dietrich, but not with him. I knew he could never really comprehend. No one could unless they’d lived it. But he was making a huge effort.
Finally, he nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”
“You said you weren’t planning to be my friend anymore.” My voice stumbled over the words. “You changed your mind?”
“I decided there was no reason to give up that easily. I care about you. I like you. And God help me, I’m attracted to you—even though you are rather a mess.”
Chains of Silver: a YA Theater Steampunk Novel (Alchemy Empire Book 1) Page 31
