Chains of Silver (Alchemy Empire Book 1)

Chapter 21a

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 widening 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,” Dietrich commented. 

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. 

**********************************

So Delphine is missing...if you were Minx & Co., what would you do?

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Next Thursday:  

        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.