Page 109 of Alchemised

He was silent for so long that Helena finally realised the speech was meant as a sort of apology. That in some way he regarded them as alike, and she had done something for him and now he regretted treating her so poorly.

She didn’t want an apology, though.

“Are you—” He blinked and started again. “Is there—healing you require?”

Her spine went rigid. The last thing she wanted was Elain or Ivy anywhere near her.

“He wasn’t violent,” she said sharply. She folded her arms tightly around herself. Her voice was very tense, her throat refusing to relax. “It was just—abrupt. Besides”—she let her voice grow venomous—“wasn’t healing myself part of your instructions from the very beginning?”

Crowther looked away. “If you need clearance for anything, I’ll see that it’s signed off.”

“I just came here to fix my hair and get a new shirt. I wasn’t injured,” she said, growing angry at this sudden and belated attempt at concern.

They’d been so clear that she was alone in this, and now that the ruse was finally up, now that it had come out that they hadn’t really sold her off, forever, without a second thought, they thought she’d want them to care?

A sick heat burned in the pit of her stomach.

“You should allow people to look out for you.”

A harsh, sobbing laugh split her chest at the absurdity of his words.

His expression grew pinched. “There was no time to train you for the assignment. We thought it best to let the deal run its course and—collect the pieces afterwards. It made you more convincing.”

A lump rose in her throat. “Well, he saw through you both. I was the only fool in the end. But you got what you wanted. Lucky you, I guess.”

“You—” He said it heavily and then paused.

“What?” she asked sharply, anger evaporating as panic closed around her again.

Was it not enough? Was he trying to break it to her gently that Ilva would still choose to kill Kaine? That the month had been a lie, too. That there was nothing Kaine could do that was as valuable as betraying him?

Crowther’s eyebrows furrowed as he studied her. “I’ve spent a year working on the logistics of replacing you … I must admit, you are the most exceptional asset the Eternal Flame possesses. And I am sorry for that.”

Knowing now the Holdfasts’ method of selecting their “prodigies,” she did see the parallels between them: both brought to Paladia as talented children with nowhere else to go, their lives spent being lonely and useful because it was all they knew.

Perhaps, looking at her as his successor, he did find her tragic.

C ROWTHER WENT WITH H ELENA TO the Outpost the next week.

After his brief interlude of humanity, Crowther had retreated back into his shadows, and when he reemerged, he’d reverted to his normal self. Still, Helena could feel how her place in his strategy had shifted with the new developments.

She said nothing to him on the way there. They took a lorry as far as the gate and then walked to the Outpost. It was startling how quick the journey was when not taken on foot. There was a light, misting rain draped like a shroud over the city, frothing into a thick mist near the dam.

The necrothralls on the Outpost faded into the rain when they passed.

Kaine was waiting inside the tenement as though he’d never left. He looked gaunt. Tired. He didn’t meet her eyes. He barely even looked at her. The cloths that had covered the floor had all been folded and lay in a pile against one wall.

If Crowther had any reaction to the tenement, he didn’t show it, but Helena felt a visceral sense of discomfort as his eyes swept over the room.

She was used to it, but now she saw all the dirt, chipped paint, and cracked tiles again.

Remembered how degrading it had felt the first time she’d arrived.

As he stood surveying the space, the air in the room grew tense. Like a forest going abruptly silent.

Crowther had not seen combat in years, but Helena had healed enough of his interrogation victims to know he had a talent for precision pyromancy, and now he had two hands to wield it with.

She wasn’t sure about the extent of Kaine’s abilities, but even the Undying struggled against flame alchemists.

The feeling of hatred between Crowther and Kaine was so tangible, the air sang with it.

Crowther was the one who spoke first, eyes glittering. “I understand you wish to make a new deal with the Eternal Flame, Ferron.”

There was mocking insinuation in his tone.

Kaine had gone startlingly pale. “So it would seem.”

Helena had thought she was supposed to act as an intermediary between them, but Kaine glanced towards her.

“You can go now, Marino. I’m sure Crowther can find his way back on his own.”

Helena hesitated, looking between the two men.

Amusement lit Crowther’s face as he glanced at Helena, too. “No need to walk back alone. Wait outside, Marino. I’m sure Ferron won’t let anything happen to you on the landing.”

The muscle in Kaine’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t speak.

Helena looked between them and then turned reluctantly and went out to the landing. She only heard Crowther utter one word before the door sealed shut:

“Beg.”

She wandered the hallway, peeking through the tenements missing doors at the identical units. She followed the stairs to the top floor and wandered back down.

The rain was falling through the broken skylight, creating a constant drip and patter. As she reached the second floor, a glimpse of something hidden in the shadows caught her attention.

She went closer, rising on her toes and squinting, trying to see clearly what it was. It had been strategically concealed to make it almost invisible in the shadows.

A human eye encased in glass stared down at her. When Helena moved to the side, it rotated, following her.

A shiver ran down her spine. She hadn’t even known that it was possible to animate only a part of a body, but it was undeniably animated. Perfectly preserved. Angled to see the entire landing from the shadows.

That was how Kaine always knew when she was there.

She sat on the steps for half an hour before Crowther emerged from the room. She knew he probably wouldn’t tell her the terms, but she hoped that after having her wait, he’d tell her something.

He merely paused, studying her. “Good work, Marino.”