Dedicated to TracyMJoyce, just because. :-)
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The first act of the play unfolded without incident. I didn’t forget my lines. I didn’t freak out when Sir Harrington had to grab me during the kissing scene. It wasn’t nearly as steamy as when Dietrich had rehearsed that scene with me, but I think we sold it to the audience well enough.
When the curtain fell on the first act, I stared at it as the backstage lights came on. My heart was racing and my mind felt almost transcendently alert.
Dietrich, I’m having fun!
Well, other than the constant tension of waiting for the Peacock to reveal himself. But Dietrich knew what I meant. His low laughter warmed me through our connection.
Of course you are. It’s what you were meant to do. I’m proud of you, Gia.
My joy dimmed as I headed to my dressing room to prepare for the second act. If the Peacock was going to strike, it would be soon.
But maybe the Peacock wouldn’t show up. He must have known Lottie had talked—maybe he would stay away so he wouldn’t be caught.
No, that would do no good—he would only attack again later. We needed to catch him tonight.
But it would have been so lovely to be able to enjoy my first acting performance without the threat of death hovering around me.
Suddenly the crowded corridor of dressing rooms felt hostile. Too many people. Too difficult to keep track of. I recognized them all, I thought. But what if I was missing one?
It only took a few grains of brugmansia to drug a person. It could be anywhere.
They crowded against me as I made my way toward my dressing room. Everyone seemed to have something to say. Something to offer me.
“Dame Fairchild, would you like one of my flowers?”
“My beau sent me chocolates. Try one.”
“Have some wine, Dame Fairchild.”
A dresser sneezed next to me. Someone else coughed nearby.
My heart thudded. Sweat beaded on my makeup. The crush of bodies felt like a cage. I had to get out of there.
“No thank you, everyone. Excuse me, please.” I tried to smile graciously, but inside I wanted to scream.
I pushed to my dressing room and flung the door shut behind me.
A dark shape darted in front of me.
I shrieked.
A hand clapped over my mouth.
“Hush, it’s just me.” The low, sensual voice sent waves of relief crashing over me.
I fell against him. “Dietrich!” I took several breaths to calm myself.
“Are you all right?”
I sank into the nearest chair. “I’m fine. Just an overzealous imagination.”
“Understandable, considering the circumstances.”
I cracked open the door. “My dresser will be here any minute,” I explained.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I’m glad you did.” My honorometer vibrated against my forearm. I frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“According to my honorometer, you have dishonorable intentions, Presul Wolff.” I lifted an eyebrow, challenging him to explain himself.
He gave me a steamy smile. “Maybe I do. Maybe I have very, very dishonorable intentions, cariad.”
A pleasant shiver skittered through me. “You’ll have to wait until I’m back in my own form to show me your intensions.”
He just grinned.
Miss Lampeter arrived, and Dietrich excused himself, sending me a cheery smile as he left. Miss Lampeter didn’t comment as she helped me touch up my makeup and hair. Everyone knew Dame Fairchild had been assigned her own presul for this show. They might privately wonder why, but no one was cogged enough to ask out loud.
Act two began uneventfully. I had several scenes onstage, and in an ironic switch, I was relieved to be onstage. The Peacock had never pulled an actor off stage in the middle of a scene, so for once in my life, the stage felt like the safest place to be.
But by the time we were heading toward the climactic point of the show, I was getting worried. Maybe all this had been for nothing. Maybe Lottie had been wrong and the Peacock had no intentions of attacking tonight. Or maybe he was planning to wait until the next show Nadine was in.
Just the thought of having to live with this uncertainty even longer made my stomach hurt. We all needed it to be over—for better or worse.
I wasn’t in the current scene, but it wasn’t long enough to warrant going all the way to my dressing room or even waiting in the Green Room. So I stood out of the way in the wings on stage right, watching the action play out on stage. It was easy to forget I wasn’t part of the stage crew this time as I had been so many times before.
My honorometer vibrated, making me jump a little. My heart froze for an instant.
Cautiously, I glanced around.
No one was nearby.
What is it? Dietrich asked me, the words coming sharp and tense to my mind.
Nothing…I think.
I felt disappointed—my honorometer wasn’t functioning correctly. First it buzzed when Dietrich was in my dressing room, and now it was vibrating when no one was near. I must have calibrated it incorrectly.
In the dimness, Wallace Shelby walked toward me, pushing a sound effect machine to put it into position for the upcoming kraken attack on the ship. I almost greeted him, but then remembered that Nadine probably wouldn’t be so outgoing. I had no idea if she were friends with Mr. Shelby or not, so I settled for a gracious Nadine smile.
My honorometer vibrated again. Worthless gadget.
There wasn’t much space, and he needed to set the machine about where I was standing. I walked closer to the fly gallery lift to give him room to maneuver the machine.
He nodded thanks to me and positioned the machine. He fiddled with the knobs and pressed a few buttons. Then he drew alongside me.
I looked up at him, another smile ready to curve my lips.
He didn’t smile back. He leaned close to my ear. “Get into the lift, Dame Fairchild. That’s a command. You’re needed for a greater purpose.”
For an instant, I didn’t understand his words.
Then icy knowledge burst into hot flames of pure fear in my soul. My heart and lungs froze and then burned.
Dietrich! It’s Wallace Shelby. He’s the Peacock.
I didn’t want to believe it. Mr. Shelby had been my friend—I thought. He was so sweet and scholly and awkward. How could he be a killer?
I felt the jolt of Dietrich’s shock. But all he said was, Does he have you?
Wallace grabbed my arm, his hold not sweet at all. “Come, now.”
Yes. He’s ordered me into the lift.
I sensed Dietrich’s own burst of fear, followed by a massive effort to tamp it down and focus. He has to have an accomplice to control the lift. Can you see who’s there?
I forced myself to be calm and let Wallace guide me the few steps toward the door of the lift. Casually, almost vacantly, I tilted my head toward the proscenium wall where the controls were. A woman stood there, watching us.
Agnes Lampeter, I told Dietrich, feeling betrayed.
Shit.
I knew he shared my sense of betrayal. They were part of our own Alchemy Empire Theater family. And they were murderers. But there was no time to think more about it. Right now, I just had to survive.
Yes, survive, cariad. I’m alerting the rozzers. We’ve got you. I promise. Just follow the plan. We’ll be there soon.
Wallace shut me with him into the lift, and I struggled to control my fear of the metal cage. If I lived through this, I was going to personally take a sledge hammer to the hated device.
Wallace was silent during the short ride to the catwalk. My heart shuddered in my chest, and I put all my effort into keeping my breathing slow and steady. I couldn’t let him know yet that I wasn’t drugged. I needed the element of surprise.
At the catwalk, he opened the door and propelled me onto the catwalk ahead of him. “Walk to the center,” he ordered me.
We were not alone. Another dark shape stood on the catwalk, above center stage. Hope flared in me—maybe it was one of the rozzers.
But no—it wasn’t a rozzer.
It was Wallace’s friend, the sharp tongued Creston Diggory. My heart sank. I wasn’t sure I could fight off two of them by myself. I tried to get a look at the fly gallery catwalks that lined the walls on stage left to see if there were any signs of our rozzers. But there were too many battens and lights and curtains in the way of my view.
There’s a third accomplice. Creston Diggory. He’s on the catwalk with us. I don’t think I can fight two of them.
Dietrich’s reply was quick and sure. I’ll send the other two rozzers backstage through the side house access.
“Any trouble?” Creston asked Wallace when we stopped over center stage.
“No, you?”
“They’ve got a team of rozzers. Four of them—two in the house, front row, and one at each backstage entrance. I blew some brug on the stage left one and told him to kill anyone coming through the side access from the house. Agnes was going to do the same on stage right. But we should hurry at any rate.”
I gasped, my heart clenching. Dietrich! Don’t send them through the side access!
Too late. Why?
I frantically tried to explain, but then I realized Creston and Wallace were staring at me.
“She’s not drugged,” Creston snapped at Wallace.
At that moment, the stage rumbled. The orchestra’s foreboding music filled the air, and a whirring, clanking noise told me the mechanical kraken had been fired up.
The kraken attack had begun.
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Next Thursday:
I wasn’t going to win.
But if I was going to lose, I’d cause as much damage as I could first.
This time, I would fight.