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

  Chains of Silver

  Book One of the Alchemy Empire Series

  Meredith Rose

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Sneak Peek at Claws of Brass (Book 2)

  Claws of Brass

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Meredith Rose

  Chains of Silver by Meredith Rose

  Published by Coedwig Books, 2885 Sanford Ave SW #17598

  Grandville, MI 49418

  www.meredithrosebooks.com

  Copyright © 2016 Meredith Rose

  All rights reserved.

  Please support the hard work of authors by not copying, reproducing, distributing, or transmitting this e-book in any form without written permission of the publisher. Brief quotations for use in reviews or other non-commercial use is permitted.

  Author Photo: Copyright © 2013 Hooton Images

  Cover photo of steampunk woman: Copyright © 2016 Alena Ivanchenko, allsteam.deviantart.com

  Steampunk Woman Model: Alexandra Ivanchenko

  Cover Design: Copyright © 2016 Meredith Rose

  Cover Resources:

  Becky Bonne, dg-sama.deviantart.com

  Vash Crowley, vash-crowley.deviantart.com

  Obsidian Dawn, obsidiandawn.com

  This is a work of fiction. That means the characters, events, locations—they’re all made up by the author. So if you think a character resembles you, or your friend, neighbor, pet, family member, or anyone else you know or don’t know, it’s really not the case. It’s just an odd coincidence—like when two strangers accidentally keep looking at each other even though they don’t mean to, or when you show up at school wearing the same outfit as your teacher. It might be awkward or strange or totally unbelievable, but it is indeed a random occurrence. Fiction is just weird like that.

  For my daughters Jessamyn and Catrin—as promised, a story written just the way you both wanted.

  “All the world’s a stage,

  And all the men and women merely players:

  They have their exits and their entrances;

  And one man in his time plays many parts…”

  ~As You Like It

  Chapter One

  If all the world’s a stage, then I am utterly screwn. Give me vampires, zombies, kraken any day—even wereducks. The worst monster in any novel is less scary than standing in the limelight under the invasive gaze of an audience. I’m not talking about stage fright. That’s just the snakes-in-your-stomach jitters that some actors get. I only wish my problem were as small as that.

  No…when I look at the stage, all I remember is a prison. All I feel is the hunger and pain. All I know is the terror of a child treated like a beast. All I hear is the voice of the monster that invaded my mind, controlled my body, used my magic, and destroyed my innocence.

  All I see is him.

  “They say you are a melancholy fellow.” Delphine Birdwell’s piercing voice filled the theater, reciting Rosalind’s line from As You Like It.

  The words pulled me from my own melancholy thoughts and brought my attention back to the rehearsal I was watching. Our apprentice company’s fall production was As You Like It, and the way things were going at this point, I was just hoping the audience wouldn’t respond with “No, we hate it.”

  The first few rows of the small rehearsal studio at the Alchemy Empire Theater looked like we were having an exam-cram session. Textbooks, notebooks, and sketch pads slid out of threadbare canvas bags and lay scattered on the sloping marble floor between the oak theater seats. Tech and costume apprentices sat in little groups throughout the theater, whispering and giggling, even though we were supposed to be taking notes on the rehearsal.

  Boring. I was hoping everything would go well and we could be done early. I was a final-year theater tech apprentice with a load of projects. I had a lot more important things to do than sit through a blocking rehearsal, even if I was the apprentice tech director.

  My best friends, Thea and Raymond, weren’t here to entertain me either. Thea, who was training to be a stage manager, was in a meeting with the chief lighting technician. Raymond was a playwright apprentice, so he didn’t really need to go to rehearsals.

  Delphine waited impatiently on stage for Walter Edison, who played the sulky Jaques, to deliver his next line. She must have been staying up late a lot—her face looked more pinched than usual, and she had bluish shadows under her eyes.

  Walter blinked, his chubby cheeks sagging as his mouth dropped open then closed again, like a large fish. “I am so; I…I—Line, please?”

  “For the love of the Empress,” Delphine snapped, “use your script already. It’s only a blocking rehearsal.”

  She definitely wasn’t getting enough sleep—cranky as a rusted gear shaft. I felt a little sorry for Walter. He wasn’t bad at acting; he just didn’t have a very good memory. But Delphine and her crowd were always so rough on him.

  Walter pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting his eyes. “No—no, I can do this. Let’s see…I am so; I…ugh, why can’t I remember?”

  “I am so; I do love it better than laughing.” Delphine snarled the line at him and shoved her script into his hands. “If you’d use the script, you might actually learn your lines.”

  Her entourage of fellow acting apprentices snickered from the front row. I shrank into my aisle seat, glad I was several rows back. Delphine’s friends could be really mean. Of course, they just followed her lead. Thea and I couldn’t understand how someone who was always so nasty managed to have so many friends. Delphine was the apprentice rep for the student company. And she’d been picked as Alchemy Empire Theater’s Spotlight Apprentice three times in the last three years. How was that possible? Sure, she was beautiful and talented, and she could be nice when she wanted something.

  But she could also be a bully—like now. It wasn’t right for her to always get away with it. The only reason she did was because she was the most magically talented actress in the apprentice program, and Master Fenrey was hoping to talk her into staying after she finished her apprenticeship.

  Our director, Dietrich Wolff, whom we addressed by the title “Presul” because of his particular kind of magic, had been called out of the theater. I hoped he’d return soon. I couldn’t imagine even Delphine being this mean to Walter in front of a Theatrical Guild member.

  “I don’t need the script!” Walter tried to hand it back
, but she wouldn’t accept it. He flung it across the floor, his shirt pulling too tight across his belly. “I had my lines earlier today.”

  “You’ll still be asking for prompts at dress rehearsal. I can’t believe we let you into the apprentice company.” Delphine retrieved the script and slapped it against her other hand.

  I heard the wooden theater door clatter open and then thud closed, but I was too caught by what was happening on stage to pay much attention to it.

  Walter’s round face was so red now, it could almost rival the glow of a stage light. “I keep telling you—I don’t want to use it. I need to practice without it.”

  Delphine stalked toward Walter. “You need to practice without your script the way you need triple servings at dinner and need to spend all your pocket money at Miss Tabitha’s Sweet Shop.”

  “That’s enough, Miss Birdwell!” Presul Wolff’s usually quiet voice boomed from the back of the theater. Even in anger, his words lilted in a melodic Cymric accent that had been making hearts race ever since he joined our theater four months ago. He strode down the aisle toward the stage. As he neared my seat, I shut my eyes and braced myself against the magic that crackled around him like a storm.

  Walter looked like he might cry. He did overeat, it was true. I didn’t know him very well—I tended to avoid most of the boys. But it wasn’t hard to see that he was hurting inside. Maybe the food helped him feel better. All I knew is that it definitely wasn’t any of Delphine’s business.

  Delphine whirled to look out across the house. She flung out her arm, pointing at Walter like the Queen of Hearts demanding a beheading. “He’s the one that interrupted the rehearsal because he couldn’t remember his stupid line. I refuse to share the stage with someone so incompetent.”

  “He’s doing just fine, and you don’t have a choice in the matter. Take it from the top of the scene.” Presul Wolff’s eyes narrowed, sharp like chisels.

  “No. Not until Mr. Edison at least pretends he’s an actor and picks up his bloody script.”

  We gasped. Defying the director and swearing—she was begging to be assigned to clean the girls’ lavatory for the next month.

  Presul Wolff’s face grew dark, his eyes blazing. “You will apologize immediately to Mr. Edison.”

  I shivered. If he ever spoke to me in that menacing, iron tone, I’d curl up and do whatever he said. But Delphine just glared back at him.

  He took one step closer. “Apologize to Mr. Edison or get off my stage.” His voice was like the metallic whisper of a sword being slid from its sheath.

  The theater was silent. I could barely breathe. He couldn’t back down. He couldn’t let her win.

  She pursed her mouth and glared at Walter. “I apologize for telling you the truth, Mr. Edison.”

  A whoosh swept through the theater, like everyone had been holding their breath and let it out at once.

  “Not acceptable,” Presul Wolff growled.

  “It’s the best I can do.” She shrugged like the whole thing was incredibly tedious.

  I wanted to scream. She was obviously trying to get the new director sacked. She’d hated him ever since he’d been hired, and she and her clique were always trying to prove he couldn’t keep control of the apprentice company.

  He was supposedly one of the best new directors in the empire. And definitely the steamiest—all dark curls and forest green eyes, and the muscled body of a dancer or fighter. When he wasn’t dealing with defiant apprentices, he seemed kind, too. It wasn’t his fault Delphine hated him.

  I didn’t like to draw attention to myself, but…fine. Somebody had to do something.

  I grabbed a small box from my bag, flipped it open, and pulled out a life-sized dragonfly. I slid a control band onto my wrist and quickly flipped a tiny switch on the band to power on the numerous steam nano engines inside the bracelet. They sent electromagnetic waves through the aether and to the dragonfly. Its iridescent wings came to life and its copper-plated body shivered.

  I tossed it high over my head and it took flight.

  The tiny robotic creature soared through the air, straight for Delphine.

  She shrieked and ducked her head, batting her arms at the device. The other apprentices giggled. The theater filled with gasps and murmurs.

  It dived at her again.

  She squealed.

  I veered it away before she could score a direct hit. It had taken me months to get it working and I didn’t want it damaged.

  I landed it on Walter’s arm. It balanced there, its wings whirring and flexing. He studied it a moment, then looked out across the house until he found me. I saw the gratitude in his eyes, and I gave him a tiny smile before looking away.

  Millicent Walsh and a couple other apprentices in Delphine’s front-row crowd scrambled on stage. They cooed over the dragonfly, but I didn’t want them coming too close. I guided it back to me, where it landed on my finger.

  Everyone applauded—except Delphine, of course. When they quieted, I nodded to Presul Wolff, but avoided looking at him directly. “How do you like my latest project? Robotic insects. I thought we could use them in the forest scenes.” My pulse pounded, and my voice was higher than usual. I hoped he didn’t notice. It was awful feeling so nervous around him.

  Delphine’s hatred radiated out at me. It burned my heart a little, in one corner that I couldn’t harden enough not to feel.

  She sneered. “Who cares about robotic insects? The audience comes to see actors, not Minx’s stupid toys.”

  I almost snapped back at her, but Presul Wolff beat me to it.

  “The audience comes to see an entire production, including the set.” His voice was calm, his accent nearly hypnotic, but I could tell he was working hard to keep his temper.

  He turned to me then, and for a second, I really thought I might do something totally cogged. Like faint. Or vomit.

  Or ask to touch his hair.

  Oh god.

  I clamped my mouth shut and grabbed the back of the seat in front of me with my left hand.

  His eyes followed the movement of my hand. They traveled back up to my face. He held my gaze, steady, the hint of a smile on his lips, but a little bashful, like he saw what I was feeling and was flattered by it.

  This was exactly what I’d been afraid of—every time he looked at me, I felt like he didn’t just look. He saw. All of me. All my secrets. It was terrifying and thrilling, and…I just wanted to die.

  “Beautiful,” he said, looking straight at me.

  My mouth dropped open a little, and I struggled to grab a few shallow breaths.

  He inhaled suddenly and blinked. Clearing his throat, he looked away. “The dragonfly, that is.” He gestured to it with a wave of his fingers, glancing indirectly at me. “We should…ah…use it. In the play. That would be…good, yeah.”

  I heard a few muffled giggles. Great.

  He winced slightly at the spattering of laughter. Seeing him act so awkward made me feel a little better.

  He made a show of consulting his copy of the script. “Right, then. Let’s take it from Orlando’s entrance.”

  Smart move. Orlando was being played by Bennet Mason. Delphine wouldn’t yell insults at him. She liked to make a big deal of being in love with him. It always felt a bit fake to me, though. But Bennet seemed perfectly happy to go along with it, so who knew for sure?

  As they began the new scene, Walter slipped out of the theater. I hoped he would be all right. I would have gone after him to make sure, but I didn’t like to be alone with most boys. Plus, I never knew what to say to people when they were upset. He’d be better off without my clumsy attempts at comforting him.

  I sank back into my seat, breathing slowly and deeply to calm the panic surging in me. It was a huge relief to have Presul Wolff’s attention elsewhere, and not on me anymore.

  “Well-played, Miss Mellor.” Jasper Flannery plopped into the seat next to me hard enough to rock the whole end of the row. Chester Lawler was close behind.

 
Unreasonable terror exploded inside me at their sudden appearance, and I bit back a scream. Forcing my heartbeat to steady, I nodded at them. “Mr. Flannery. Mr. Lawler.” They were both seventh-year lighting apprentices, and you rarely saw one without the other.

  “Thou art a wily wench and hast crossed the swords of wit most impressively against thy bitchy opponent,” Jasper said in a low voice.

  Even though my blood was still pounding a bit too hard, I couldn’t resist grinning at him. “You are so cogged.”

  “This is what I’ve been telling him,” Chester said, peeking around Jasper at me.

  Jasper put his hands to his chest. “You wound me, both of you.”

  “Drama queen,” I muttered.

  Presul Wolff vaulted up onto the low stage to show Delphine and Bennet the blocking he wanted for the scene. Hopping onto a stage in a full morning suit—complete with tails and a cravat around his neck—should have looked ridiculous, but he made it look athletic and graceful. Watching him made me want things I didn’t want to want. Especially not from someone like him.

  I swallowed down the ache in my throat and glanced at Jasper. “Think he’ll last?” I nodded toward Presul Wolff, who was now glaring at Delphine for arguing with him over the blocking.

  “There’s bets on that, you know,” whispered Chester. “Most of the seventh-years have placed wagers.”

  “Seriously?” I smothered my laugh. “How are the odds?”

  “Three to one, in favor of the presul,” Jasper replied.

  “Really?” I eyed our director. God, he was steam-hot. “Sure that’s not just wishful thinking?”

  Chester shrugged. “Could be. You know we’re throwing a huge party when your lot leaves.”

  “Hey!” I reached around Jasper and gave Chester a playful slap on the shoulder. I lowered my voice. “What have you got against eighth-years? We’re not so bad.”

  Jasper leaned toward me. “You, we love.” He flicked his fingers toward Delphine. “It’s her and her friends we’ll be glad to get rid of.” He grinned and put his arm around my shoulder.