Page 169 of Alchemised

Kaine’s expression tensed. “As Stroud said, it was at the High Necromancer’s personal command. I assure you, nothing about the process was pleasurable for anyone involved.”

“Well, that’s a pity,” Atreus said in Crowther’s low voice.

Crowther’s clouded eyes drifted slowly across Helena as he came forward, an awful scent of astringent chemicals and lavender rising from him.

“I’d hoped to hear this had at least invigorated you to do your duty to your family.

I have it on good authority that you were once a regular at certain city establishments during the war.

So clearly you do not lack experience or capacity, leaving me to assume you lack motivation. ”

“I have better uses for my time than worrying over your legacy,” Kaine said, his eyes glittering with malice.

Atreus glared at him for a moment and then moved suddenly towards Helena. She shrank towards Kaine on instinct.

Atreus looked sharply at his son. “For a captive, she doesn’t seem very afraid of you.”

Kaine reached over and snatched Helena away from his father. “Well, that’s all thanks to Aurelia here. After she assaulted my prisoner in a fit of rage, I ended up in the heroic role of saviour.” Kaine smiled down at Helena, his eyes ice-cold and mocking. “Isn’t that right?”

Helena did not have to pretend to tremble. Her heart was pounding so hard, the room was swimming.

“It’s time I put her away for the night. You can both see yourselves out.” Kaine turned to leave, seemingly dragging Helena behind him.

Atreus spoke up again. “The High Necromancer may have given you a long leash in the past, but you have overestimated both your skills and importance by letting him use you as a dog. Now he treats you as one. It seems killing is the only thing you’ve ever done well.”

Kaine’s expression betrayed nothing, but Helena felt him flinch.

“You may threaten the others in compliance, but I am not afraid of you,” Atreus said. “You have flown too high, and all that is left for you is an immense fall.”

Kaine’s fingers spasmed against Helena’s arm.

“This is my house,” Atreus said, “and now that your failed tasks are mine to complete, you do not command me. Perhaps, when I have finished, I will ask our great leader to order you to produce an heir, since slavish obedience is the only quality you seem to possess.”

Kaine didn’t look back. “Do as you wish. I don’t care.”

He walked quickly and did not stop until they reached the west wing of the house, leaving Atreus and Aurelia far behind. He stopped then, turning and holding her face, studying her eyes, and she felt his resonance in her nerves, slowing the unsteady pounding of her heart.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “I am sorry. It didn’t occur to me that Stroud would do something so asinine.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s over now,” she said. “What did your father mean about your failed tasks being his now?”

“It’s nothing. Come, let’s get you back to your room.”

She wouldn’t budge. “What’s happened?”

He exhaled. “The task of hunting down the killer has been reassigned to my father.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. He won’t find anything. Shiseo’s envoy will be back in a little over a week.”

The news was like a punch in the gut. She knew time was running out, she could see it every time she looked into the night sky, but news of Shiseo’s return made it so much more final. She was silent until they reached her room.

“That girl who was here, with her sister. Do you know her?”

Kaine’s eyes narrowed. “She was the one who let everyone into the Institute.”

“She was one of Crowther’s. She killed him because her sister died when we rescued Luc,” Helena said, nodding. “She’s convinced that the necrothrall with her is alive.”

“The reanimation is one of Morrough’s. He rarely bothers with such elaborate work, but that explains why. I would have killed her already, but she makes it difficult because she never goes anywhere without the necrothrall and doesn’t keep any others.”

S PIREFELL FELT HAUNTED ONCE MORE with the presence of Atreus and Aurelia.

With a room facing the courtyard, Helena would hear when anyone arrived. She watched Kaine and his father standing on the steps as a lorry drove in and prisoners were dragged into one of the storehouse buildings.

Kaine started to walk away, but Atreus called harshly after him. Kaine turned slowly, following his father inside.

The screams that followed pierced the windows, floating through the twisting halls of the house. They would not end.

Helena closed the curtains and huddled in the far corner of her room, trying to block out the sounds. She had too many memories of screams like that.

She flinched at a touch and looked up to find Kaine in front of her. She studied him. She could tell he’d washed recently; his hair was damp.

They stared at each other, feeling the weight of it all.

“Did—did any of them say anything that could incriminate you?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

His eyes flickered. “No. None of them knew anything.”

She swallowed hard.

Every word. Every life. Because of you.

She couldn’t speak.

“It’s late. Will you eat?” Kaine finally asked.

She looked over, catching sight of a tray set on the table across the room. The shadows in the room were long. She had hidden in the corner for an entire day.

Her jaw trembled, throat thickening.

“Why is he doing this here?” she asked, as if it somehow made a difference where it happened.

“He believes there are spies, and that’s why the killer has been so effective. He’s convinced Spirefell is the only place that remains secure.” He looked down. “You should try to eat. I’m expected to have dinner with him and Aurelia tonight.”

He started to stand, but she reached out. “Will you come back, after?”

She could see his silver eyes in the darkness.

“If you want me to.”

In the quiet, she went and pulled out her arrays, all her notes, studying them, altering certain components of the design she’d developed, squinting as she ran her fingers along the patterns, trying to feel the energy and remember if it felt right.

There were no books, no sources to reference for alchemical arrays designed for animancy. She had to rely on fragments of information and her own experience.

Arrays could take years, sometimes decades, to perfect.

At best, she’d have only one chance to get it right.

“S HISEO WILL REACH EASTERN N OVIS in a few days,” Kaine told her. They were walking in the hedge maze, because they couldn’t be seen there from the house and it was far away enough that she couldn’t hear the sudden screams. “He’ll be here within the week.”

Helena’s stomach dropped. “Oh.”

She knew he was telling her to brace her for what was so soon to come, but it didn’t feel like being braced—it felt like being struck.

Her throat worked several times. “Do you think there’s any chance I could go to the library with you? I just want to see if I’ve overlooked anything.”

“If that’s what you want.”

In the library, she could feel the weight of his gaze as she made her way slowly through the aisles, looking for old histories and commentaries on the qualities of alchemy. When he watched her, there was such visible grief in his eyes, she didn’t know how she hadn’t recognised it sooner.

She knew that to him, what she was doing was stealing time from them. If she found nothing, it was all wasted. Moments they could have had together, she had spent searching for a solution that did not exist.

Still, she pulled another book down from a shelf, fingers trembling, and added it to a stack.

“These too.”

“I THINK— I’ VE FIGURED OUT THE array and all the materials I’d need to restore your soul,” she said when Kaine came the next day. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, empty-handed, her meal untouched.

He paused, shutting the door. “Oh?”

Her left hand kept spasming uncontrollably, and her heart was beating like a fist inside her chest.

“If we alter the base of the array, I could use the inner components of it to hold the energy while I use my animancy to separate your soul from the others.”

“But?”

She swallowed. “When Luc died, it happened slowly. Cetus—Morrough had damaged him so much, his soul couldn’t hold on once Cetus was dead.

I didn’t know how to—Your soul was ripped out of your body.

If I can get it back in, with time maybe it might reintegrate, but we’d need to secure it at least initially, like—like the servants’ souls are doing now, to the phylactery. ”

“You’d need a sacrificial soul.”

She nodded. “They’d have to be willing. It wouldn’t hold together, it wouldn’t work if they weren’t.”

“Ah,” was all he said.

She swallowed hard, jaw trembling. “Maybe if I start over, I can find something else. I might have come at it from the wrong angle.”

He was silent.

Her chest convulsed. “Or—I was thinking, what if we prioritise just getting the phylactery first, and go. Then I’ll have another month to study it, right?

I could build a bomb—we could—you have an old forge here.

It wouldn’t be high heat or a large detonation.

If we used nullium, once Morrough was injured—you could get the phylactery and then we’d run, and—and I can figure something out then. ”

Kaine’s expression was closed, his gaze infuriatingly patient as he walked over to her. “Can you safely handle explosives while pregnant?”

Her throat closed. “We could work together—I could tell you how to—”

Kaine picked up her hand and laid it against his. His fingers twitched several times, and Helena’s entire hand spasmed.

“Which of us has hands steady enough to build a bomb?”

Helena snatched hers away, curling her fingers into a fist so tight she could feel metacarpal bones under her fingertips. The room swam, threatening to topple her from the bed. She braced her other hand firmly against the mattress to steady herself. “Well, maybe if I—”

“Helena, I’m tired.”

She looked up and saw it in his eyes. The war had eaten him; it had carved him to the bone and not stopped even then. He was scarcely more than a ghost.

She had known, from the moment she’d seen the array on his back, that if he survived it, it would drive him to distil his world to a single point and he would never stray from it. He had made that point her.

He could not stop so long as she was in danger, and it had worn him almost to nothing. He just wanted an endpoint to look towards.

Her shoulders shook. “But … I want to save you back.”

“I know.” He said it gently. “And if anyone could, it would be you. But I would like to say goodbye to you before you’re gone, and you are losing yourself in this.”

He pulled her into his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head.

But her mind would not stop racing. When he left, she went back to her research. Starting from scratch. When she heard him coming, she put everything away and didn’t mention it. He knew anyway, but they pretended.

She kissed him. Pushed him back against the bed and slid her legs up until she was on his lap, fingers threaded through his pale hair as she moulded her body to his, wanting all of him.

As he kissed down her neck, she found the buttons and fastenings on his clothes until she could touch his skin, shoving his shirt down off his shoulders, guiding his hands to her waist.

His hands gripped her, thumbs pressed against her lower ribs, arching her closer.

Her hands shook as she began unbuttoning her dress, fingers trembling so badly that they fumbled with the buttons. Kaine tried to close his hands over hers, but she jerked them free.

“I want this,” she said, voice shaking. “I want this on our terms before I go—please …”

Her voice cracked.

“This was ours …” She swallowed, blinking hard. “They took it from us, but it was ours.”

She managed the rest of the buttons and let her dress slip off, pooling at her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close, kissing him.

She stayed astride him, her thighs bracketing his hips as their bodies joined. His fingers curled against her waist, but he didn’t push her down, didn’t make her move beyond the pace that she felt ready for. He gave a low groan as she rolled her hips forward.

She tried not to remember, not to compare it to any other time, just trying to dwell on the now, grounding herself in the moment, but it was familiar …

She remembered it being like this before, slow and intimate. The burning reverence of his touch when he’d made love to her.

That’s what it had been. Making love. It was what they’d had.