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

by Meredith Rose

  She scanned my outfit. “You two came from a party?”

  “The Season Opener at the Airship Club,” Dietrich said.

  “Sounds very posh. This must be quite the come-down.”

  Dietrich snorted. “Nonsense. I’d choose a visit with you over a noisy, crowded party any day.”

  She glanced at the ceiling, shaking her head. But a happy shade of pink tinted her cheeks. “Be that as it may, I assume you’re not here for midnight tea.”

  “We needed some help with something, if you have a few minutes.”

  “Let me finish up with one more family. It’s been pretty quiet tonight. You’re lucky. If it were a Friday, I’d be running ragged until two in the morning.”

  I gave Dietrich a puzzled look, but he didn’t notice. Lucy showed us into her parlor, only it was arranged more like a reception room with an odd assortment of chairs lining the walls. She bustled into a room beyond that which should have been a library or drawing room. I heard voices from within and guessed it much be where that family she’d mentioned was waiting for her.

  We sat down in two of the more comfortable-looking chairs.

  “What’s all this?” I asked Dietrich.

  “It’s her private healing practice. During the day, she works in a medical clinic, alongside the physicians and surgeons. But three evenings a week, she has a free clinic here in the evenings. Most of the people in this part of town can’t afford to pay, and they can’t take time away from work during the day because they’ll have their wages docked or lose their positions.”

  “That’s rather heroic of her.”

  “She’s an amazing woman. Never met anyone more generous or truly kind.”

  It troubled me to know that no one would likely ever say that about me. I wasn’t sure I was capable of being such a saint, but part of me wished I could.

  “When we have healers, why do we need doctors and surgeons?” I’d always wondered, but no one had explained it to me.

  “Healers can’t do all the work—the need is far greater than the number of healers. Trying to do it all would deplete their magic. At a clinic, they generally are reserved for the tougher cases, or for when regular medical treatment isn’t working. Even then, sometimes there are illnesses or injuries not even a healer can fix.”

  “It sounds very difficult.”

  Dietrich nodded. “I don’t know how they manage it.” He gestured to the room. “When I remember this, how hard Lu works and how she dedicates her life to healing others, it gives me more patience and sympathy for Gwynn. Her training can’t be easy.”

  “You are a very good person.”

  He looked embarrassed. “You’re kind to say so.”

  After another several minutes, the door to the other room opened, and three poorly-dressed and undernourished children filed out. The oldest, a girl of maybe fourteen years with stringy auburn hair, carried a baby that looked to be about a year old. The other child was a boy who looked about ten, and though his hair was more brown, his facial features showed he must be related to the older girl. Something about their faces seemed familiar. They shuffled past us, not looking our direction.

  They had reached the parlor door when Lucy came racing into the room. “Miss Birdwell, you forgot the baby’s potion!” She handed the girl a dark glass bottle.

  Miss Birdwell? Suddenly, I knew where I’d seen that pinched face and auburn hair. My gaze flew to Dietrich. He looked surprised, too, but clamped his mouth shut and returned his gaze discreetly to the floor.

  The girl, who I would bet my entire year’s allowance was Delphine’s younger sister, motioned to her brother to take the bottle.

  “Sorry, Miss Davies. I get to the point where I’d forget me feet if they weren’t attached to me legs.”

  “It’s quite all right, dear. Just try not to forget to give this to the baby. And do try to get your mother to sign the consent form for the oxygen machine. I can get it at no cost to you, but we need the form signed by a parent.”

  The boy scowled. “Mum’s too busy whoring at the docks to sign—”

  “Shut up!” the girl hissed.

  “It’s true.”

  “Aye, but ain’t right to say so in public.” She jutted her chin toward us.

  I tried not to sink down in my chair. I didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t want to know the horrid and sad secrets in Delphine’s family. Most of all, I didn’t want to feel sorry for her. But I couldn’t help it.

  “Can me sister sign it, Miss Davies?”

  “Is she eighteen?”

  The girl’s face drooped. “Not until March.” Then she brightened. “What about me Uncle Avery?”

  “That will work.”

  “I’m ever so glad that you found someone to give us the air machine for free.” The girl looked as if she’d have hugged Lucy if she weren’t holding the baby. “Me sis is still paying off the operation Georgie had before we found you. Without you, he’d be dead by now.”

  Tears shimmered in Lucy’s eyes. “I’m happy that I’m able to help. Go on home now. You all need some rest. I’ll see you on Friday as usual.”

  She walked them to the door and bid them goodbye. When she returned to us, she pulled up a chair and sank into it. “That poor baby has defective lungs. If he survives another year it will be a miracle. And that’s even with my magic.”

  “You can’t heal him?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “My magic can only fix things that are foreign to the human body. This child’s illness is a part of his body. I can try to keep ahead of the symptoms, but it’s a losing battle.”

  I felt a dull ache inside. “Does the older sister—the one who is seventeen—know?”

  Lucy shrugged. “I think so. But I’ve never met her and don’t know much about her. All the children will tell me is that she is an apprentice somewhere, and she tries her best to support them. How anyone could support six younger siblings on an apprentice allowance, especially when one of them is dying, is beyond me.”

  “Six?” Dietrich sat forward. “There were only three here.”

  “The other three are much too young to come with them when they visit me. It’s my understanding they all live with their uncle, who has a family of his own, too. So Frannie—the girl—has the main responsibility for caring for them. The mother—well, you heard all you need to know about that, I imagine.”

  It was beyond terrible. Poor Delphine. And yet, I sensed she would rather die than have us know her personal pain. It was a good thing she hadn’t come with us tonight.

  I simply couldn’t believe it—all this and yet she was risking her life for Nadine? How could a person be such a total bitch and yet so damned noble?

  Diva-bitch or no, I resolved I would be nicer to her from now on. I’d be like Lucy and Nadine and Dietrich—and all the other good, saintly people in the world. I’d have more compassion and keep my temper. It was the least I could do.

  I felt as though there ought to be more.

  Lucy rubbed her hands down her apron. “But you didn’t come to talk about all that. May I offer you some tea?” Without waiting for a reply, she rang for the maid, and soon we had a tea cart and three steaming cups of tea.

  “Now,” she said, after she tasted the tea, “tell me what you need.”

  Without explaining what our project was about, Dietrich told her we were looking for information on a mind control drug from the Mayan Empire. I filled in the few details we knew from Raymond. She sat back, playing with her bottom lip a moment. Then she sat straight up and said she’d be right back.

  She returned carrying a large leather-bound book. “I know I read something about that.” She flipped through some pages. “Let’s see…” More pages.

  I glanced at Dietrich hopefully. He crossed his fingers.

  “Ah, found it.” Lucy held the book up triumphantly. “Brugmansia. It’s made from the Brugmansia Aurea plant, or Golden Angel’s Trumpet. Very dangerous drug indeed.”

  I leaned around to see th
e book. “So the plant only grows in South Maya?”

  “It’s native to there,” Lucy said, scanning the pages of her book. “But it looks to me as if it could easily be grown right here in Aldwych if someone had a glass house and got hold of seeds. The black market trade from the Mayan Empire is pretty active. Getting seeds or entire plants probably wouldn’t be that difficult.”

  I shuddered. Dietrich looked a bit pale.

  He pulled his chair around so he could see the book as well. “Does it say how it works or what it looks like?”

  Lucy studied the next page. “It looks to be a crystalized powder. But it has no smell or taste, and only a few grains are needed to have the desired affect. Can be added to food or drink, or even inhaled if it’s blown in someone’s face.” She looked up from the book. “This is one bloody nasty drug.”

  Dietrich rubbed a hand over his eyes and exhaled. “Thank you, Auntie. That’s what we needed to know.”

  She patted his knee. “You aren’t in any trouble involving this stuff, are you?”

  “Not exactly. We’ve been asked by the police force to help them with something. I can’t explain more than that.”

  She eyed him closely. Pride and worry shone on her face. “Very well. Do be careful, both of you. And let me know if I can be of further help.”

  “Thank you.” Dietrich sounded dispirited.

  I didn’t blame him. How on earth were we to protect Delphine against a drug that was practically invisible and undetectable?

  Lucy closed the book and set it on an empty chair. “By the way, dear boy, Gwynn mentioned in her most recent letter to me that she wrote to you.”

  I could feel his mood slump even lower.

  “She did.” His voice was heavy.

  Lucy glanced at me uncertainly.

  Dietrich followed her gaze. He waved his hand. “It’s fine. Minx read the letter yesterday.”

  Lucy’s brows raised, and she studied me with renewed interest. I could practically read her thoughts—I must not be “just” his apprentice if he was confiding in me like that.

  I sat back in my chair and studied my nails, pretending to be invisible.

  He put his elbows on his knees, his head hanging down. “Is she all right? If she doesn’t want to see me, I’ll accept it. But I have to know she is well.”

  Lucy rested her palm on his cheek, drawing his head up to meet her eyes. “She is very well. I promise you. Be patient. She may not be ready now to let you into her life, but someday, she’s going to need her older brother.”

  “And what if I need my sister?”

  Lucy met my eyes, her expression warm. “It looks like you have very good friends who are able to give you whatever you need. Be grateful, dear.”

  He inhaled slowly, his face tight. Then he leaned toward Lucy and kissed her forehead. “You’re right.” He offered me a small smile. “I’m very fortunate indeed.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When the mechanical alarm clock went off the next morning, I groaned. Thea pulled the pillow over her head and mumbled something. She didn’t have to get up—final-year apprentices had the rare day off after the party. But I had promised to have breakfast with Nadine, so I forced myself to get up and dressed.

  I found myself taking extra care with my appearance that morning. I still wore the apprentice uniform, but I made more effort with my hair and even darkened my eyelashes and used a bit of cheek and lip color.

  I knew why I was doing it—I was looking forward to seeing Raymond.

  Oh all right—I was looking forward to seeing Raymond…and Dietrich. I whacked my hairbrush lightly against my forehead. Coggled Minx. Going from years of avoiding all romance to crushing on two chaps at once. In a single week! It ought to be impossible. And yet, it appeared that was exactly what I’d done.

  Well, after all I’d been through, I deserved to enjoy this, right?

  But what if one of them got hurt? That was too awful to consider. Apparently, romance was not like one of my inventions—I couldn’t just sketch it out and build it to specification. If it didn’t work, I couldn’t simply tweak it until I got it right.

  Romance was more like trying to create an analytical machine from a box of rusty thrunge plates and a vat of oatmeal.

  Blasted messy and damn impossible.

  People weren’t machines, more the pity. It would be so much easier if they were.

  At Nadine’s apartment, she greeted me looking refreshed and fully rested, even though I was sure she hadn’t returned to the theater much before Dietrich and me. She had gotten the kitchen staff to send up a small breakfast for us of fish and egg tartlets and hot buttered scones.

  As we ate, I filled her in on what we had learned last night about the Brugmansia drug. She shivered.

  “I just don’t like any of this.” She frowned into her tea. “It’s evil for the Guild to place any of you in danger.”

  I wondered if she had reached the conclusion Dietrich and I had—that the Guild was planning to sacrifice a vicimorph apprentice in order to catch the Peacock. But I didn’t want to ruin a lovely morning by mentioning it.

  “In happier news,” I said, “I think I’m finally getting over my fear of boys.”

  She gave me a swift, sharp glance, and then looked at her tea again. “Really?”

  I told her about dancing with Raymond and even about the kiss in the courtyard. How many times had I dreamed of having this kind of conversation with her, as I imagined other daughters and mothers did? She was so easy to talk to, so warm, loving. She listened without much comment, but I saw fond amusement and happiness on her face.

  I finished up my tale with, “I’m just worried—what if we don’t work out? I’d be losing one of my best friends. And what if Thea can’t accept that we’re together?”

  “First off, if Thea is really a friend to both of you—which she is—then she will find a way to accept it. She will probably be happy for you both, even if it means some things will change a little.”

  “And what about my friendship with Raymond, if we don’t work out romantically?” I nibbled on a scone, trying not to get crumbs on her pretty rug.

  She looked thoughtful. “Most people would say that once you break up with someone, you’ll never be friends again, even if you try. But I think two people that are determined enough and willing to work through the hard times can always be friends—if they have enough respect and real love for each other.”

  That was a comforting idea. I let it linger in my mind as I ate a bit of a tartlet.

  “What about your tango with Presul Wolff? It certainly created a stir last night.” Nadine casually slid a tartlet onto her plate, but I knew she was watching me closely.

  I chose my words carefully, making them light and unself-conscious as possible. “That was amazing. Thea arranged it, I think. But can you believe, I finally was able to street tango with a gent? Thea must have been tired of me stepping on her toes when we practiced.”

  “It was a fine accomplishment. But…you should be prepared for questions about your relationship with him.”

  I frowned. “Why? What kind of questions?”

  “You looked like you’d been dancing together for years.” Nadine fiddled with her teaspoon, not meeting my eyes. “And Delphine mentioned to me that the two of you seem to have a special sort of connection during your rehearsals.”

  “Delphine should mind her own damn business!”

  “Language, Claire.”

  “Sorry. But she has no right talking to you about me.”

  “She was concerned.”

  I snorted. “Like the hound is concerned for the fox he’s chasing?”

  “She’s not as bad as you make her out to be.”

  I almost said something nasty, but I clamped my mouth shut. The scene from last night played through my mind—Delphine’s younger siblings, and the knowledge that she was desperately trying to take care of them. Compassion, I reminded myself. Like Nadine. Like Dietrich. Like Lucy. “There
’s no reason for anyone to be concerned. We both know I’m terrified of presuls. It’s hard to have a relationship at a permanent distance of ten feet.”

  I saw no reason to mention the times we’d been closer than that lately.

  Her mouth pinched sternly. “You must take this seriously. The fact that you’ve been hurt in the past by presul magic means you have to be more careful than ever.”

  “He’s not going to hurt me.”

  “I know. And that’s the problem.”

  I blinked several times. “I beg your pardon?”

  She set her cup down on the tea table between us. Her hands clasped and unclasped in her lap. “Presul Wolff is the kind of gentle, good-hearted young man who cannot bear to see anyone in pain. Goodness knows, we need that sort of compassion in this world. But it can trick you into feeling an emotional attachment that will cause greater heartache later.”

  My head started throbbing, and I felt a sort of feverish energy spreading through me. I couldn’t believe I was listening to this foolishness. “Are you saying that if he’s showing interest in me, it’s only because he wants to fix me?”

  “It’s easy for a man to confuse compassion with romance, especially when a beautiful young woman is involved.”

  I didn’t want to believe her. Dietrich liked me—for myself, not just because he felt sorry for me. And yet, a needle of doubt pierced me. And that just made me angrier. “Dietrich isn’t like that.” I winced. “Presul Wolff, I mean. He told Delphine and me that we should use first names during rehearsal. And anyway, I told you, I kissed Raymond.”

  Nadine pursed her lips. “You cannot let yourself become attached to Presul Wolff. You are a vicimorph, he’s a presul. The theater can’t afford to have your magics bond. It would make you both useless to the rest of the company.”

  “I’m never going to use my magic for shape-shifting! We’re never going to work together like that.” I slammed my cup and saucer on the tea table.

  She stared me down, her expression like stone. “You don’t know what the future will bring. You can’t take those chances. And besides, you’re an apprentice, and he’s a Guild member. It’s simply not allowed.”