“I…am attracted to you too,” I half-whispered.
He looked a little smug. “I know. If you weren’t, I would do my best to be content as your friend. But since you are, why should I be the one to step aside? As much as I think it’s a bad idea for you to be involved with a Guild member, especially a presul, Wolff’s a good man. But so am I. And I intend to show you, over and over, in as many ways as I have to until you’re convinced.”
“I’ve never needed any convincing of your goodness, Raymond.”
He smirked. “You’re being intentionally obtuse, clever girl. Let me put it bluntly. I’m in. I’m going to win you over. I’m just warning you in advance.”
Fog turned to smoke, and I had to look away from the heat in his gaze. A smile curved my lips. “Fair enough. Consider me warned.”
He got to his feet and put out his hand to help me up. His grasp was firm and warm, and when I was standing, he brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it gently. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Thea was waiting, as promised, by the bridge. “Did you kiss and make up?” She reminded me of a rather irritated bee, looking for a reason to sting.
Raymond didn’t seem put off. He gave her a relaxed smile and offered his arm. “We are like well-oiled gears once more, my sweet.”
“‘My sweet,’ my arse.” Thea made a face at him, but tucked her hand around his arm.
“And it’s a very sweet arse.” He winked at her and then offered me his other arm.
Her face grew pink. “Do shut up, Mr. Carrew.” But she didn’t sound annoyed anymore.
I took his arm, and we walked three across back to the theater, teasing and laughing. But I sneaked a few glances at Thea, and it occurred to me that maybe I’d finally figured out which chap she had her furnace lit for.
If I was right, not only was I the dumbest cog in the machine for not realizing it sooner, but everything was going to get even more painfully complicated. I couldn’t bear the thought of breaking my best friend’s heart.
Not even for a man like Raymond.
At the theater, I stopped them at the backstage doors to the main stage. I could feel Dietrich’s magic inside. “Let me see him alone, first.”
“We’ll wait in the Green Room,” Raymond said.
“Tell Dietrich just to use my Thought Transference Waves to call us.” Thea’s eyes sparkled.
She was enjoying having a practical purpose for her magic, I realized. I was glad for her. I’d never stopped to think about how she must feel to be always treated as non-magical when she had such intriguing, untapped power.
I grinned. “Thought transference waves? That’s way too technical for me to remember. What if we just call it the Thought Holler Thingy?”
She wrinkled her nose, barely holding back her smile. “I suppose I deserve that.”
“You suppose right.” I nudged her affectionately.
She gave me a little hug. “Go on. He’s waiting for you.”
She and Raymond wandered down the hall to the Green Room where actors wait during performances for their entrances. I watched them go, then eased open the backstage door.
I threaded my way around the props tables and pin rail and set pieces until I reached the wings.
Dietrich stood in the middle of the bright pool of moonlight from the ghost light. His hands open at his side, he faced the empty house, head tilted back and eyes closed, basking in the light. He breathed deeply and slowly, in through his nose, out through his mouth, as if he were performing some sort of meditation. Peace and strength radiated from him. His magic had never felt so powerful to me.
“I knew you would return, cariad.” The words were low, but strong. He didn’t change position or even look at me. “Come.”
I crossed the stage toward him, pleased to note that it didn’t provoke the same terror in me that it had only days before. But now what? He still hadn’t moved from his place in the center of the light.
“Why did you return?”
Always protects. Always trusts. Always hopes. Always perseveres.
“Because of love.”
His head snapped up and he opened his eyes to me. They glowed the wild green of the forest again, and they probed me, testing and measuring. “I see. Good. I wouldn’t have risked working with you again for any lesser reason.”
“You still shouldn’t risk it.”
“That’s for me to decide. Just as you decided to come back.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Dietrich.”
A glimmer of a smile shone in his eyes. “I’ve never been almost killed before. I’ve discovered I’m not fond of the experience, myself.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“Next time you throw yourself on me, let’s make sure it involves fewer weapons and more passionate kissing. Deal?” He extended his hand.
I choked on sudden laughter. His lips curved the smallest bit.
I stood straighter and slowly pressed my palm to his. “Deal.” A naughty voice in my head pressed me to continue. “But really, no whips or leather—are you certain?”
Shocked heat flared in his eyes before he slid them slowly away from me, his lips tightening against a sly smile. “Minx.” It was half whisper, half growl.
Sense finally shouted down the flirt in my mind. There were so many reasons why I should not be encouraging whatever this was between us—not the least of which was that we needed to get me shapeshifting again without killing anyone.
I tried to release my hand from his, but he gripped it tighter and tugged. He edged me gradually toward him until he could slide his arms around me.
I brushed the faint pink line on his forehead where I’d hit him with the iron rod. I drew his head down and kissed the narrow scar. His breath warmed my ear.
“I won’t let it be like last time,” he whispered. “Trust me.”
I turned my head and kissed him. Long and slow. Sweet. Tasting of power and magic, but also of hope. “I trust you,” I said against his mouth.
His arms tightened around me. “Thank you.”
At last, he drew back. From his pocket, he pulled a silver chain. My throat tightened. Offering me his sister’s chain again—he couldn’t have given me a more powerful sign of his own trust and forgiveness.
“Around your neck this time,” he said quietly as he fastened the clasp behind my head.
“I don’t want to break it.”
You won’t.
His magic called to Thea, and soon she and Raymond joined us on stage.
“We spent yesterday experimenting with some discoveries we made about Miss Wright’s psychic magic,” Dietrich explained to me once they had arrived. I still felt his warmth toward me, but it was tempered by his focus on the job ahead of us. He was the director now, and there was work to do.
“They told me a little about it.”
Dietrich nodded. “I take full responsibility for how badly things went on Friday.”
I started to protest, but he held up his hand.
“I was trained in the theory of how to work with vicicorpus magic, but the only practical experience I’ve had with it was when I was eight. She was my sister—our abilities were intuitive and wild and we had that connection between close siblings. I miscalculated how much different it would be working with someone like you, whose training has been infused with so much pain.”
I didn’t want him to shoulder the responsibility, but he looked almost stern at the moment, so I decided not to interrupt.
“There is so much we don’t know about magic. It’s rather like science—we know the aether is there, and we can send messages and ships through it, but we don’t really know what it is or how it all works. People of science do experiments to make discoveries. That’s what we’re going to do with magic today. I went through every book I have on vicicorpus magic, as well as on presul magic, and I came up with some ideas to try. Now that we know I can direct the magic of Miss Wright and Mr. Carrew, I’m going to se
e if they can help us contain your power and keep it focused in the direction we need it to go.”
“All right. What do you want me to do?”
He nodded to Thea and Raymond. They took up positions on either side of Dietrich and me, so we formed a sort of diamond shape. Their faces were serious and intent, and they stood feet apart, strong and grounded. Raymond held a paper in one hand.
I felt surrounded by power. It was comforting in a way, but it was almost as if I stood with strangers—it was such a different side of my friends than I had ever seen.
Dietrich drew a slow breath, released it. “We should have done this last time. Breathe with me.”
“What do you mean?”
Look into my eyes, and breathe. That’s all you have to do.
I was happy to have an excuse to stare into his eyes, but I didn’t see what breathing had to do with it.
It synchronizes us, he explained, sensing my confusion. Just watch.
He held my gaze and drew a slow breath. I followed him. In and out. Just breathing.
The world narrowed to him. To his eyes. Dark green like a silent pool ringed the black of his pupils. Lighter green, like light through oak leaves radiated in a sunburst away from the dark.
In. Out. Breathing together.
I let him see me. Each breath drew him into me, exposing the tatters of my soul to his gaze. As we breathed, never breaking our eye contact, the last of my barriers slid away and I felt bared before him. It was a new kind of terror—exhilarating, thrilling, alluring.
A rhythmic pulse began in me. It wasn’t the heartbeat of the shifting image—we hadn’t even gotten to that point yet. Then I realized—
The heartbeat was mine.
And his.
Our hearts beat in perfectly synchronized cadence.
Our magic touched, joining together in a dance to the rhythm of breath and blood.
Beautiful magic, he whispered in my mind.
Yes. And for the first time, I felt it was true.
Build the image.
In my mind, I recreated the image of Nadine that we had built on Friday. I didn’t break my synchronization with Dietrich, but I felt myself become tense, waiting for what would come next.
Now, Miss Wright. Dietrich’s power surged toward my friend, and hers responded. She also must have sent a signal to Raymond, because his low, smooth voice broke the silence.
“She takes back her power from those who stole it,
She creates beauty from cruelty,
From ashes, a new flame,
From destruction, a new strength,
She is an angel of justice, and she protects the ones she loves.”
Magic shook me, like wind, and the theater melted in whirling streaks of gold and red. I saw Raymond’s words, living images—images of me. I hardly recognized the fierce, determined creature his words evoked. But my heart leaped, captured by the vision he created. Even though I couldn’t see him, I felt laid open to him as well.
He’d written a story of me. He continued speaking it, a story of strength and purpose and honor. Every word was like a drop of oil on my soul, healing and soothing the jagged rips and gashes.
The shifting image of not-quite Nadine bloomed to life, blood pulsing, heart beating. My old terror flared in response. My breath caught for the first time.
Dietrich called to Thea. Go deep. Find the fear, bind it. Wrap your arms around it and don’t let go.
He sent her magic plunging into me. It filled me until it found my fear. The fear struggled against her power, but Dietrich made her stronger and stronger until she’d restrained the fear in an embrace of blinding, pure love.
Strengthened and protected by my friends, I was able to breathe with Dietrich again. The Nadine-image grew larger, drifted toward me.
The rhythm of her heartbeat threatened to overtake the one Dietrich and I had created together.
Let it, he commanded me. It’s time.
Words and magic, power and love, and the relentless pounding of blood tumbled together. I was anchored only by the glow of Dietrich’s eyes.
The image washed over me, surrounded me, consumed me. She tore away my heart and gave me hers instead. My flesh burned, my bones melted.
Rose and orange mist clouded my consciousness. Thoughts and emotions that were not mine overtook me. Her gentle, loving soul blossomed in my heart.
I breathed, breaking the connection to Dietrich.
I blinked.
The room stopped swirling. The words faded. The blazing power dimmed.
I breathed again, and looked around me. My friends seemed shorter than before. Or maybe I was taller. They stared at me, eyes wide and shining.
I glanced down at my hands. They were older, the fingers longer. I brought one up to my face. I didn’t recognize the features.
Joy like molten iron exploded in me.
“We did it,” I said.
It was not my voice. It was the warm, mellow voice of the woman I loved like a mother.
Dietrich’s shoulders relaxed, and he closed his eyes and exhaled. I felt the intensity of his relief and pride through our bond.
He took my hand and bowed, lifting it to his lips. “Congratulations, Dame Fairchild.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
That first impersonation of Nadine lasted about ninety seconds. I couldn’t manage it for any longer. But we celebrated anyway with champagne Dietrich had sneaked in for us. He had been that sure we’d succeed.
And then he made me do it again.
And again.
Countless times that afternoon and into the evening, until I could stay shifted for fifteen minutes.
We were all so exhausted by the end that we could hardly walk back to our rooms. I fell asleep so deeply I had no nightmares at all.
Dietrich pushed us relentlessly the next week. I spent most of the days in my studio reworking my safety devices. Dietrich still had to run rehearsals for As You Like It, more difficult now that he had to work with Delphine’s understudy since Delphine remained in seclusion. He also had to partner with Nadine during the company’s rehearsals of A Captain’s Courage, and he wanted me to sit with him and observe.
Each night, after rehearsal was over, he and Thea and Raymond helped me shift into Nadine. They pushed me hard, and I was glad, because I had a long way to go and not nearly enough time. Dietrich allowed no complaining, no slacking. No matter how exhausted we were or how frustrating it became, his response was always the same:
“Again. Do it again. And this time, do it better.”
Within four days, I was able to stay shifted for a couple of hours. I started rehearsing my role as Julia Donovan while I was shifted. Raymond and Thea gamely stood in for the other actors, and they weren’t half-bad at all.
It wasn’t enough for me to know the lines and the blocking. I had to perform it as much like Nadine as possible. She’d be using her vicicordis magic, which meant accessing the soul of the fictional Julia, but I had to match her interpretation of that soul. Considering I had no formal acting experience, I shouldn’t have had a prayer of succeeding.
But I took to acting like I’d been born doing it. Dietrich just gave me an I-told-you-so look any time I expressed surprise about that. The wretch positively reeked of smugness about identifying my talent even when I’d adamantly denied it.
Being talented didn’t mean I always got it right, though.
On Saturday, we’d been at it for three hours, the longest I’d ever stayed shifted yet. Raymond had run lines as Captain Moffett so many times, he had them memorized now. Thea also could recite most of the play by this time, and she was doing double duty as Dietrich’s assistant and standing in for the other characters.
I was having trouble with a first act scene between Julia Donovan and Captain Moffett. Raymond and I stood on the deck of the ship, center stage, and I put everything I had into maintaining my shifted form as well as following Dietrich’s barrage of instructions.
“Dame Fairchild, cheat
out to the audience—I keep telling you, you’re profiled too much.”
Damn. I kept forgetting that. And it was so basic. The real Nadine would do it instinctively. Swallowing my irritation at myself, I angled my body more toward the audience, without turning completely away from Raymond.
Sorry, I told Dietrich.
You’ll get it. Just keep going.
Raymond gave me the Captain’s next line, “Miss Donovan! I told you to stay in your cabin.”
I channelled all of my Nadine-turned-Julia feistiness toward him. “My dear Captain, how do you expect me to write a feature story about your ship if I’m stuck all alone in that little, bitty room?”
“I don’t expect you to write at all. I expect you to follow orders.”
I stepped toward him, summoning a mixture of anger and fascination. “Teach me to—”
Dietrich cut in, “Stand up straighter. You’re not just flirting with him, you’re testing his limits.”
You know, it feels very, very wrong for me to be flirting with Raymond at the moment. I could be his mother!
Dietrich laughed out loud, choking it quickly. If you think it feels weird, it looks even weirder to the rest of us.
Thanks. Loads.
You’re doing fine. It’s a huge ego boost to have the illustrious Dame Fairchild making eyes at him.
I stood tall, lifting my head proudly. “Teach me to captain your ship. It will make for a terrific story.”
Raymond drew closer to me, glaring. “You’re insane. I wouldn’t let you within two feet of the ship’s wheel.”
Still feeling a bit like a cougar, I thrust my chest out and leaned toward him. “Why, because I’m a journalist?”
Raymond grabbed my arms. In spite of myself, a sliver of fear wafted up like smoke through my heart.
He growled his line in my face. “No, because you’re trouble.”
Well, doing a sexually charged scene with “Dame Fairchild” certainly wasn’t bothering him any. He seemed to be enjoying it far too much. As for me, a sour taste filled my mouth, and I just wanted him to let go.
“Stop.” Dietrich sounded weary.
Raymond released me, and I drew in a calming breath.
Chains of Silver: a YA Theater Steampunk Novel (Alchemy Empire Book 1) Page 32
