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

by Meredith Rose

  “Good idea,” Dietrich said. “Let me find Dame Fairchild and ask her to meet the two of you at the staff entrance. Minx, you and I will meet at the door to the basement?”

  I nodded, and we parted ways. Thea and I hurried to our room. I grabbed the cryptoaethergraph transceivers and tossed one to her. “Whoever finds her first can let the other one know.” I fastened mine to my wrist.

  She helped me change out of my apprentice skirt and blouse. I decided this time, I’d wear work trousers as we often did when building set pieces or painting drops and flats. Thea yanked on my corset strings, and I threw the corset on my bed.

  Hurry. Hurry.

  The what-if pictures teased my mind—Delphine injured, Delphine dead. Her siblings turned out in the streets by an uncle who couldn’t afford to keep them. And the worst thought of all: In part, it was my fault.

  I had to find her.

  Over a sturdy cotton shirt, I fastened my leather harness. Into its slots and pockets went the goddess torch, pepper spray, and compass. And on my other wrist, I fastened the claw cuff I’d intended for Delphine.

  That reminded me. “Damn. I left all my work out in the tech studio.” I struggled to clip the cuff on my wrist.

  Thea helped me with the clip. “I’ll put it away for you before I meet Raymond and Dame Fairchild. You just go.”

  “Thank you.” I sprinted for the door.

  Thea caught my arm. Her eyes were somber but warm. “You’ll find her. And it isn’t your fault.”

  I gave her a weak smile. “Thanks. I hope you’re right.”

  When I reached the door to the basement of the theater, Dietrich was already there. His eyes brightened when he saw me, and it occurred to me that this was the first time we were alone together since I freed him from the lift. Had it really not been more than twelve hours ago?

  His gaze wandered the length of me, and I thought I saw admiration in his eyes. But all he said was, “Trousers—good idea. Ready then?”

  It seemed no time at all before we were through the underground cavern and to the grated entrance to the utility tunnel. We had scanned the storage room and the cavern, but no Delphine. We didn’t really expect to find her so easily, but it would have been nice.

  Dietrich opened the grate, then hesitated. “Will you be all right going through here?”

  He’d remembered this smaller first tunnel was my nemesis. The knowledge wrapped warm around my heart like a blanket. “I think so. But you go first.”

  He stooped, entered, and then turned around, waiting for me like Thea had. I stepped through the opening. For a moment, the old fear threatened to pull me under its dark waters. But I focused on Dietrich. I pictured him the way he was in the lift the night before, grieving for me, healing me. He was real. I anchored myself to his reality and shut the grate behind me.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Talk to me.”

  And he did. As we shuffled forward, he asked me about Raymond and Thea, and how we became friends, and who my favorite instructor was, and my opinion on our As You Like It production. Anything he could think of to keep me connected to the present instead of swallowed by the past.

  When the tunnel broadened and we were able to stand upright again, he set his hands on my shoulders and studied my face intently. “There—looks as if you got through that in one piece. Good job.”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  For a moment, our eyes locked, heat flaring. But the sound of something scrabbling over the rubble in the distance brought us back to our surroundings. Delphine was out there somewhere, we hoped. He stepped back reluctantly and pointed down the tunnel with his electric torch. “Lead the way—you know it better than I do.”

  I scooted in front of him, my goddess torch on full power. As we started down the corridor, I glanced over my shoulder at him. His eyes flew up to meet my face, and he looked a little embarrassed. Huh—I bet I knew what he’d been looking at.

  I chuckled. “So you think trousers were a good idea, do you?”

  He started to speak, but had to clear his throat. “They have their benefits. From a practical perspective, of course.”

  “Oh, of course.” I smiled smugly to myself and put an extra little wiggle into my walk. For practical reasons only.

  But as we started our search for Delphine in earnest, the flirtatious mood vanished into the dark depths of the underground chambers. We hurried through the utility tunnel—small enough that it was easy to see Delphine wasn’t there. When it opened out onto the drainage channel, we slowed our pace and started calling her name.

  Dietrich picked up a section of a tree branch that had made its way down the channel and used it to measure how deep the water in the channel was. He drew out the stick and seemed grimly satisfied. “It’s only about two feet deep in the middle. If she’s in the water, we’ll see her.”

  If she was in the water—as in drowned? I didn’t voice the question, but a snake of ice tightened around my chest. I shone my torch along the bricked walls of the channel, shouting, “Delphine!” My voice echoed down the damp corridor.

  When we got to the big junction of tunnels, where Delphine and I had evaded the rozzers, Dietrich helped me search all the access channels. We found nothing.

  Our voices grew hoarse from shouting her name. Part of me felt like we should be moving faster, but then again, I was terrified we’d overlook some clue. We settled into a rhythm of shouting for her, listening, and shining our torches along every pocket and pore of the tunnel. We followed the slowly-widening ribbon of water, watching for the protruding form of a body breaking its glassy finish.

  At last we reached the river. The water was high, rushing angrily along the narrow tube containing it.

  “There must be a rainstorm above ground,” Dietrich shouted over the roar of the river.

  The water scraped along the side of the walkway, threatening to swallow the narrow footpath. I shone my light on the muddy, foaming current and my heart shook within me.

  If Delphine had fallen in, we might never find her.

  We hurried carefully up the stone stairs which were slick with water and algae. At street level, we braced ourselves against the rain. It still pelted the park near the river, but couldn’t be called a downpour any longer. I stowed my torch in one of the pockets of my harness so it wouldn’t get too wet.

  I took the lead to cross the street, heading for the Coggled Noggin.

  “Minx, wait.”

  When I turned, Dietrich was walking away from me, toward a row of bushes and small trees along the riverbank. He had been smart to wear a coat. I shivered as my cotton shirt plastered itself against my wet skin.

  I hurried after him. “Did you find…something?”

  He faced me, holding a black canvas bag and a familiar-looking lantern.

  My mouth felt dry, even with the rain pouring down my face. “That’s hers.”

  When I reached him, he held it out to me, his face wet and grim. “Take a look.”

  Hands shaking, I opened the bag and peered in. My heart clenched. “Her script, some tools, an apple.” I looked up at him. “You didn’t see—” I couldn’t say it.

  “No, she’s not there. But look.” He pointed to a patch of ground under a tree, back beyond the hedge of bushes. The grass was torn and sliced, wet mud showing through like a gaping wound. “There was a struggle.”

  We squeezed around the bushes to inspect the area more closely. I spied some watery red smears on the grass and against the tree. The rain hadn’t been able to completely wash them away. I stared at it, my mind wanting to deny what it knew was true. Sobs rose in my throat, but I wouldn’t let them out. “Oh god, Dietrich.”

  He stopped by my side and grabbed my hand. “Shh. Don’t panic. Let’s see if we can trace it. Look carefully at the grass, see if there’s any more blood, no matter how faint. Look for footprints, hair, anything.”

  No tears. There wasn’t time. I couldn’t think about the implications. We hunted in wid
ening circles around the site of the confrontation.

  Dietrich called me over to him. When I reached him, he pointed under a bush. “Someone vomited.”

  “Maybe she was attacked and fought off whoever it was—she can be a mean opponent.” I glanced away from the mess, trying not to notice there was blood in it.

  “Perhaps. But she’s still missing. And likely injured.”

  We continued searching the area. I found another sizable smear of blood in the grass near the stone step entrance to the underground river. I didn’t know how we had overlooked it before, except our investigative skills just weren’t that great. And maybe we hadn’t wanted to look for blood.

  “We should check the steps more carefully,” I suggested.

  Sure enough, about half-way down, on the stone wall was a faint, bloody handprint. Small, with long, slim fingers pointing down the steps. I choked back a cry.

  “She came down after the fight.” His eyes strayed to the brown, churning river below, and I could see his fears reflected on his face.

  I inhaled slowly. “We didn’t see her on the way, but what if she was disoriented? What if she went the wrong way along the river?”

  He nodded and clambered down the steps ahead of me.

  I followed him down to the water-teased walkway. This time, we turned right, torches in hand once more. The stone path was slick, and it narrowed precariously. We gripped the iron railing that provided the only barrier between us and the dark currents.

  Dietrich halted.

  “What’s wrong?” I couldn’t see around him.

  “The hand rail is missing. And the path is little more than a foot and a half across here. She couldn’t have made it without falling in.”

  I peered around him, straining to see in the torchlight. He was right. There was a gap in the rail about the length of Dietrich. I caught my breath. She couldn’t have fallen in. I wouldn’t believe it. I raised my own torch, shining it as far down the channel as possible.

  Finally—there, a dark mass sticking out from a curve in the channel. Could it be the folds of a skirt? “Look!”

  He turned his light on the gray stone wall of the channel. “And more handprints.”

  There were two of them, gruesome signposts of pain, of a life in danger.

  His body stiffened, and I could feel his determination roaring around him. “You stay here. I’ll go take a look.”

  “Absolutely not. I’m coming with you. If it is Delphine, you’ll need my help.”

  He wanted to argue—it was plain to me. But it was also plain that he could either waste valuable minutes arguing with me, or we could get on with trying to rescue Delphine.

  I knew what his choice would be before he made it.

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered, the curse only barely audible above the din of the water. “Come on then.”

  We picked our way carefully across the slippery, railless foot path. I pressed my hand against the wall for balance, and when I pulled it away, I realized I had touched the bloody handprint. Another sob burst silently from me.

  On the other side, the sharpened ends of the railing twisted like iron thorns into the walkway. We eased around them. The path widened again, and we hurried to the bend in the tunnel where I’d seen the darkened shape.

  The tunnel opened into a cave-like mouth where the river spilled free alongside the park. Pebbles took the place of brick and stone. The swollen river still greedily licked the edges of the banks, not quite filling the channel,

  And just at the curve, a heap of black and gray fabric lay, trodden and muddy and covered in blood. A pale hand shone white against the skirt. Auburn hair partially concealed the mud-encrusted curve of a deathly pallid cheek.

  I pushed past Dietrich and ran to her. I dropped to my knees. My fingers shook so hard, I could barely scrape away the sodden hair to feel for a pulse in her neck. “Dear god,” I breathed. It might have been more a prayer than an expletive this time.

  “Is she alive?” Dietrich knelt next to me, holding out his coat that he’d removed.

  I begged her cold body to have a pulse. I put my hand over her heart. “Yes,” I gasped. “It’s not strong, but I feel a beat.”

  He bowed his head, exhaling hard. “Thank God.”

  Gently, he rolled her to her back. This time, I couldn’t keep my sobs silent. Her face was scraped, and bruises were forming around her left eye and right cheekbone. Her lip was swollen and smeared with blood. Blood also trickled from her nose. Her clothing was torn and stained dark red. There was no way to tell how badly she’d been injured, but it seemed amazing she’d survived this long.

  “Fucking bastard who did this should be killed,” I hissed.

  “Agreed.” Barely-restrained rage boiled in his voice.

  I helped him wrap his coat around her. We tried to wake her, but other than a slight fluttering of eyelids, she gave us no response. Maybe it was just as well—I could only imagine what agony she’d be in if she were conscious.

  “How do we get her out of here?” I asked.

  “Excellent question,” he muttered.

  He picked his way along the side of the raging waters to peer out of the tunnel opening. He jogged back and shook his head. “The gully is too steep on either side to carry her up. We can’t even walk along the river. Water’s too high. We’ll have to go back and use the steps.”

  “Can we get her across the narrow part?” I pictured the slim ledge with no rail, and the murky water swirling only inches from our feet.

  “I don’t see that we have much choice.” He stooped and gathered Delphine in his arms.

  We made careful progress back the way we’d come. But when we approached the section without the railing, Dietrich slowed.

  “The ledge is too narrow for me to carry her myself without us both falling into the river.” He gently set Delphine on the stone walkway, and slid around her so that he was standing at her head, near the twisted end of the railing. “If you take her feet and I carry her upper body, we should be able to get across. But we’re going to go slowly and be very careful.”

  The water was still lapping just over the top of the stone ledge. The narrow section seemed utterly impassable. My heart pounded, and I wanted to sit and cry like a child. But I hadn’t been a child for years, not really. Delphine would die if Dietrich and I couldn’t get her to safety in time.

  Dietrich adjusted the coat we’d wrapped around Delphine, and wedged the torch into the pocket so it still cast some light without him having to hold it. He lifted her under the arms. I tucked my torch into my harness and took her legs. We had only gone a few steps when Dietrich stopped. “Wait. Set her down. The railing is bent in, and it’s going to cut us as we pass since we can’t turn sideways around it.”

  “I can move it.”

  “I doubt it—it’s pretty solid.”

  “Magic, coggle-brain.”

  He offered me the first real smile since this morning at breakfast. “Ah. Right.”

  There was just enough room between Delphine and the last bit of railing for me to slide around her and stand by Dietrich. I had to lean on the railing heavily—luckily, it was indeed solid. “I just need to get a little closer to the end.” I edged closer to Dietrich. I could feel the water rushing across the toes of my boots.

  He inched back, trying to avoid the sharp edges of the twisted railing. “Damn. I think my shirt is snagged on it.”

  “Careful.” I reached for him. “Maybe I can free you.”

  He tugged on the fabric. “No, I’ve got it.”

  He bent to the side, trying to see where the fabric was stuck. His feet shifted. I saw him try to avoid stepping on Delphine. Instead, his left foot slid on a clump of algae. His body lurched. He flailed.

  I screamed and lunged for him. But the fabric of his shirt slid from my fingers. He fell backwards, into the swift, dark river. He disappeared under the water.

  “Dietrich!” I screamed again. I twisted to look behind me, fumbling for my torch to aim
downstream. I saw his head pop out of the water just for a second before vanishing again into the darkness.

  I couldn’t accept what I’d seen. Couldn’t think about it. Not for a second. I wouldn’t be able to breathe. Or move. “No crying. No panicking.” I snarled the words to myself.

  I slid my feet back from the treacherous edge. They bumped into Delphine’s motionless form. Delphine. That was what I had to do—take care of Delphine.

  Breathing hard, my body trembling, I inched past her to where Dietrich had met his fate. I refused to look at the raging water. Tears prickled in my eyes. “No crying!” I shouted.

  I touched the pointed, warped metal edge of the broken rail. Summoning my magic, I curled the sharp edges away and blunted them so we could pass unharmed. If I’d had more time, I could probably have created a thin wire from the metal and extended it across the entire gap. It wouldn’t have been as strong as a rail, but it would have offered some protection. But there wasn’t time. Every second brought Delphine closer to death. I had to get her out of here.

  I pressed as close to the wall as I could and struggled to lift Delphine’s body. I hooked my arms under hers as Dietrich had done. I would have to back across the narrow gap. If I fell, Delphine would likely be swept away as well, and it would kill her. There was no room for mistakes.

  My world became the stone ledge and the wall and the rush of water against my boot. The weight of Delphine’s cold body in my arms. The thudding of my heart.

  I slid my foot backward, tugging her with me.

  Inch by inch, I dragged her across the narrow ledge. “You are bloody well not going to die after all this,” I told Delphine. “You are going to live and be bitchy and brilliant and totally annoying until we’re both ninety-nine years old. And then you can die, so that I’ll have the satisfaction of outliving you to see one hundred. Got that?” If I kept talking, I could stop the tears and the shaking.

  Her left foot slid off the ledge, and the current tugged at it, throwing me off-balance. I yanked her body back toward the wall, willing myself to stay upright.

  Slowly, painfully slowly, we crossed the gap. I glanced over my shoulder and glimpsed the reflection of my torch off the metal of the rail. My arms and back ached, and my chest and neck were tight with the effort of holding back my emotions. I didn’t even know if Delphine was still alive.