Chains of Silver (Alchemy Empire Book 1)

Chapter 21b

Dedicated to Gailyn A. Scott--just because. :-)

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“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.”