Chains of Silver: a YA Theater Steampunk Novel (Alchemy Empire Book 1)

by Meredith Rose

  Ugh.

  I eased out of his embrace and skittered back two steps. I wracked my mind trying to picture how Nadine might smile at a lover.

  I did not want to picture that. Not ever.

  Nonetheless, I had no choice. I sent him what I hoped was a besotted smile. “You’re not going to lose…me.” I gulped. “I promise.”

  He drew close again.

  He lowered his head.

  Thanks to the last few weeks, I knew that move—he was going in for a kiss.

  My toes curled. I tried not to cringe.

  Just before his lips touched mine, I sprang away. I couldn’t do it. Some things were simply too wrong for words.

  “Nadine, my love, what is it?”

  I stood in the middle of the dressing room, gaping at him. Then I gritted my teeth, trying not to shudder. “Um, Miss Lampeter should be back any minute with my lemon water.”

  He gave me an assessing look. My dressing gown had parted a little, and I pulled it tight around me, hoping I didn’t look too defensive. It was a testament to how far I’d come the last few weeks that this situation didn’t bring back the horrors of my abuse under Jensen Cornelius. But I wasn’t afraid.

  Just thoroughly horrified.

  The lovestruck expression faded from his eyes. A frown curled his lips. He walked toward me, looking blessedly more like the grave and formidable theater manager I knew.

  “You…aren’t Nadine.”

  Screwn. That’s what I was.

  He walked around me, looking me up and down. I stood very still, staring straight ahead.

  “I thought the hair was a little longer. Darker. And you’re a bit shorter.” He peered into my face. “The eyes—a shade lighter brown than hers.”

  My slightly-inaccurate eyes slid away from him.

  He touched a lock of my hair. “Not Miss Birdwell. This isn’t makeup or a wig.”

  I cringed, waiting for the truth to dawn on him. It didn’t take long.

  “This is vicicorpus magic…My god. Claire Mellor—am I right?”

  I winced. “Yes, sir.”

  He dropped my hair like it had zapped him with electricity. He took a big step back, nearly stumbling over the vanity bench. He slapped a hand over his face, grimacing.

  “I…” he drew a slow breath. “…most sincerely beg your pardon, Miss Mellor.”

  “It’s quite all right,” I stammered.

  His hand dropped, and he glared at me. “What in God’s name are you doing here? And where’s Dame Fairchild?”

  I lifted my chin. “I’m much better suited to take the risk. She’s away from the theater, with a friend. She’s safe.”

  He snorted. “And what did you have to do—knock her out?”

  “I promise we didn’t harm her.”

  His brows lifted. “We?”

  “Do you think I could pull this off on my own?”

  His jaw tightened. “Presul Wolff.”

  I nodded. “But it was my idea.”

  He shook his head, his eyes riveted on me. “The resemblance is uncanny. You could be her twin. I don’t know whether to make you scrub floors for the rest of your apprenticeship or kiss your feet in gratitude.”

  I winced again. “Could we maybe settle for something in between either extreme?”

  A twinkle glinted in his eyes. He looked like he could almost smile. “Definitely. As long as we never, ever speak of this again.”

  I grinned. “Gladly.”

  He looked weary suddenly. “I shouldn’t let you do this.”

  “You don’t have much choice.”

  “The Guild will be furious if they discover I endangered a full shapeshifter.”

  “Then they mustn’t find out.”

  “Nadine will find out. And when she does, she’s going to have my head on a platter. You know that, right?”

  “At least she’ll be alive to do it, sir.”

  His expression became grave. “And what about you? If something happens to you, she will never recover from it.”

  “It’s better for me to take the risk—I have more power, more options, at my disposal than she does. I have a better chance of surviving. You know I’m right.”

  “I thought that you…couldn’t shift. Because of what happened to you.”

  I squared my shoulders. “I’m working through it. It’s about time I did.”

  He placed his hands on my shoulders. Nothing remained of the would-be lover. This was Master Fenrey addressing an apprentice. Thank God.

  I got the feeling, too, that he truly respected me. The thought filled me with warmth, in spite of my embarrassment.

  “I won’t tell the Guild,” he said. “But I will alert the rozzers. We will do everything we can to keep you safe tonight. And after this, you’ll have some decisions to make.”

  I frowned. “Such as?”

  “Such as whether you will pursue your true magic or not. But I promise you this—I will do everything in my power to assist you in whatever you choose. And as long as I am manager here, you’ll have a job. A good one.”

  My throat felt tight. “Thank you, sir,” I choked out. “But in that case, you should extend the same generosity to Delphine Birdwell. She would have gone through with it if she could have.”

  He nodded. “Your compassion is admirable. I know she hasn’t been a friend to you.”

  “We haven’t been friends to each other, sir.” But I was going to change that. If I made it through this night, I was going to make things right between her and me.

  He squeezed my shoulders lightly, then let me go. “Godspeed, Miss Mellor.”

  “Thank you.”

  He retrieved his hat and walking stick, just as a tap sounded on the door. He opened it to let Miss Lampeter in. She gave him a knowing smile. He nodded absently at her. He gave me one more troubled glance, then left.

  Miss Lampeter carried the lemon water on a silver tray and set it on the dressing table. “Had a nice visit, did you?”

  I bit back a rambling explanation. Nadine wouldn’t explain. She was above that. “Yes, thank you.”

  “Try the lemon water?”

  “In a moment.”

  She looked a bit put out that I didn’t test it immediately. But she had been, in my opinion, too forward with me—with Nadine. I wanted to put her in her place a bit. She could wait.

  I had her resume styling my hair. While she brushed it, I sent a thought to Dietrich.

  Master Fenrey was here.

  Oh? He drew out the word, as if he was waiting for a good story.

  He tried to kiss me.

  Laughter filtered through our mental connection.

  Suspicion dawned in my mind. You don’t sound very surprised. How did you know?

  There’ve been rumors.

  I haven’t heard any.

  Guild member rumors, cariad. You do know that up until a month ago, I actually spent more time with them than with the apprentices, right?

  I didn’t like the reminder of the difference in status between us. I think it’s scandalous! He’s the manager.

  Hmm…as scandalous as an apprentice kissing her company director?

  Shut up.

  He was still laughing. Are you all right?

  No! I’m appalled. She has a protector.

  And her protector has a wife. What of it?

  I tried to keep the miffed expression off my face so Miss Lampeter wouldn’t notice I was carrying on a mental conversation. Well, you might have given me some warning at least.

  Honestly, I never even thought about it. What did you do?

  I pushed him away. And then he figured out I wasn’t Nadine. He knows it’s me.

  His amusement shut off abruptly. Ah. Well, our goal was to shift you so close only a mother or a lover could tell. I guess we succeeded. How much trouble are we in?

  I don’t think any. But he wants to tell the rozzers.

  I can do that.

  I should go now. Miss Lampeter will think I’m rude if I keep ignori
ng her.

  I’m right here if you need me.

  I know.

  I returned my attention to preparing for the show. As Miss Lampeter worked on my hair, she kept eyeing the glass of lemon water. I knew she was dying for me to take a sip and tell her if she’d done it right.

  But then I remembered the brugmansia drug. Nadine’s lemon water habit was too well-known. It would be a good target if anyone was trying to slip me the drug.

  While Miss Lampeter was in the corner of the room, heating up my steam-powered curling iron, I grabbed the glass and dribbled some of the water into the vase of flowers on a stand next to the dressing table. I set the glass back on the tray with a clink.

  Miss Lampeter whirled around expectantly.

  “Perfection, my dear. Thank you.” I gave her my warmest Nadine smile.

  She glowed with satisfaction. “You’re welcome. Drink as much as you like—I’ll be glad to bring you more.”

  I found a few more times to water the flowers in the vase when she wasn’t looking, and each time I did, Miss Lampeter looked happier. It was so odd how young she seemed to me right now. Before, when I would see her with Creston Diggory and Wallace Shelby, she’d seemed so much older and more sophisticated than me. Now they all seemed almost like children. Strange how my perspective could change with my shape.

  Soon, my hair was curled and stage makeup caked my face. I looked into the mirror and truly didn’t recognize myself. Nadine’s face stared back at me, and I smiled at it. She returned my smile, and it was weirdly almost like having her there with me.

  A stagehand popped her head in. “Ten minutes until places, Dame Fairchild.”

  “Thank you.”

  I had a few last minute preparations to make, and I didn’t want Miss Lampeter to see. “That will be all for now, Miss Lampeter. I’d like a few minutes to myself before I head backstage.”

  “Are you feeling all right? Not anxious are you?”

  “Of course not. I’m as calm as can be. Thank you for your help.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  When she had gone, I fastened my honorometer to my forearm, beneath my sleeve. Then I slid a bag from the drawer of the dressing table. It contained a last-minute brainstorm I’d had this past week. I drew out several slim, needle-sharp, threaded hairpins. They were designed to work like a porcupine’s quills—once they pierced the skin, a nanomachine in the jeweled head would activate and corkscrew the pin further into the person’s flesh, making it difficult and painful to remove. It also would grow quite hot, which should prove most uncomfortable to an assailant. I slid several of them into my hair, careful not to poke my own scalp.

  The final touch were my earrings. They were tiny fans that would help blow any brugmansia away from me—I hoped. We had only tested them with a bit of flour one night, and Dietrich and I had both ended up with powdery white faces for our trouble. So I wasn’t very confident about them, but if I was getting brugmansia blown in my face anyway, the fans certainly wouldn’t make it worse.

  I slid a slim canister of pepper spray into a hidden holder just under the neckline of my dress. The dress was cut square, covering my cleavage. A row of tiny silk rosettes helped hid the bulge of the canister.

  One final look in the full-length mirror. Nadine stared back at me, somber and beautiful.

  We were ready.

  The dim, crowded world of the backstage, with its black-clad, bustling residents and labyrinth of set pieces, sound effect machines, and props tables had always been home to me. It was the brightness of the stage that I feared. But tonight, beneath the hum of opening-night energy, I felt a stinging, dark unease.

  Was he here, somewhere, hiding? Waiting for me? I was the bait—when would his jaws snap around it and spring our trap?

  My heart rate increased. I had to stop thinking about it. If the lemon water had indeed been spiked with the drug, then the Peacock would be expecting me to be bonelessly calm, untroubled.

  It was all part of the role I had to play.

  Five minutes until curtain. “Places!” called the stage manager in a hushed shout as she threaded through the crush of darkly-dressed forms.

  The backstage quieted. I heard the muffled din of the audience through the grand curtain. I ducked into the cavity at the back of the ship set piece, representing the entrance down into the lower level of the ship. A set of wooden steps led up to the doorway where I’d make my entrance. Two actors were already there—they’d be playing sailors who catch intrepid reporter Julia Donovan stowing away on the voyage.

  I tried to picture Dietrich, Thea, and Raymond. They’d be sitting at the end of the front row, stage left, next to one of the rozzers. At the other end of the row, stage right, was a second rozzer. Two more would take up positions behind the backstage entrances on each side of the stage.

  I knew the plan. We’d rehearsed it as well as the play itself. I would have to go all the way to the catwalk after all. The rozzers needed incontrovertible proof of intent to kill. Dietrich said it was like fishing—after we hooked the fish, we had to give it enough line to embed the hook firmly enough to reel it in. If my theory was right that poison was involved before the hanging, I had to have it in my hands before I fought back. The rozzers at the backstage doors would race up the fly gallery steps on each side of the stage to reach the catwalk and trap the Peacock—hopefully before he could kill me.

  That was the plan, anyway.

  The noise from the audience faded away as the house lights dimmed. Darkening the house was an innovation the Alchemy had pioneered. It allowed the stage lights to be more vibrant, and it helped lull the audience into the spell of the unfolding story.

  Waiting in the quiet and dark, I felt more alone than I had in years. I didn’t want to die tonight.

  Dietrich.

  I’m here. Ready to become Julia?

  For once, I welcomed the surge of his magic around me. I pulled it to myself. I wasn’t alone. He was here. I’m ready.

  We layered Julia’s soul on top of Nadine’s, and it was easy to let my mind melt into the character. I didn’t need Raymond and Thea for that—it was only physical shifting that made me stumble.

  I can’t remember my lines!

  I could almost picture him smiling. Yes you can. You know them. You are them.

  There wasn’t time to say more. The grand curtain lifted, the stage lights came up. My co-actors took me by the arms, ready to haul me up the steps.

  The silence was split by the shrill voice of a bosun’s whistle. Sailors rushed onto the ship’s deck, shouting instructions and greeting each other. Sir Harrington as Captain Moffett stepped out of his cabin above us, and the audience cheered and applauded their favorite leading man.

  My sailor escorts tightened their grip. I nodded to them. They dragged me up the step, through the doorway—

  —Into the bright lights of the stage.

  The audience erupted in cheers and admiring screams. They shouted my name—or Nadine’s, rather. I knew it would happen—I’d seen her perform so many times.

  But this time, it was me. Not Nadine, not Delphine.

  Me.

  I was born for this. I’d wasted so much time being afraid. But no longer. This was my birthright, and I was going to claim it.

  My eyes blurred for just a moment. I blinked, wrestling my emotions under control. I was Julia Donovan. And I was about to kick some serious theatrical arse.

  The crowd quieted finally. The actor on my left hollered up at Sir Harrington, “Captain! We caught a stowaway!”

  Chapter Forty

  The first act of the play unfolded without incident. I didn’t forget my lines. I didn’t freak out when Sir Harrington had to grab me during the kissing scene. It wasn’t nearly as steamy as when Dietrich had rehearsed that scene with me, but I think we sold it to the audience well enough.

  When the curtain fell on the first act, I stared at it as the backstage lights came on. My heart was racing and my mind felt almost transcendently
alert.

  Dietrich, I’m having fun!

  Well, other than the constant tension of waiting for the Peacock to reveal himself. But Dietrich knew what I meant. His low laughter warmed me through our connection.

  Of course you are. It’s what you were meant to do. I’m proud of you, Gia.

  My joy dimmed as I headed to my dressing room to prepare for the second act. If the Peacock was going to strike, it would be soon.

  But maybe the Peacock wouldn’t show up. He must have known Lottie had talked—maybe he would stay away so he wouldn’t be caught.

  No, that would do no good—he would only attack again later. We needed to catch him tonight.

  But it would have been so lovely to be able to enjoy my first acting performance without the threat of death hovering around me.

  Suddenly the crowded corridor of dressing rooms felt hostile. Too many people. Too difficult to keep track of. I recognized them all, I thought. But what if I was missing one?

  It only took a few grains of brugmansia to drug a person. It could be anywhere.

  They crowded against me as I made my way toward my dressing room. Everyone seemed to have something to say. Something to offer me.

  “Dame Fairchild, would you like one of my flowers?”

  “My beau sent me chocolates. Try one.”

  “Have some wine, Dame Fairchild.”

  A dresser sneezed next to me. Someone else coughed nearby.

  My heart thudded. Sweat beaded on my makeup. The crush of bodies felt like a cage. I had to get out of there.

  “No thank you, everyone. Excuse me, please.” I tried to smile graciously, but inside I wanted to scream.

  I pushed to my dressing room and flung the door shut behind me.

  A dark shape darted in front of me.

  I shrieked.

  A hand clapped over my mouth.

  “Hush, it’s just me.” The low, sensual voice sent waves of relief crashing over me.

  I fell against him. “Dietrich!” I took several breaths to calm myself.

  “Are you all right?”

  I sank into the nearest chair. “I’m fine. Just an overzealous imagination.”

  “Understandable, considering the circumstances.”

  I cracked open the door. “My dresser will be here any minute,” I explained.