Page 227 of Alchemised

“It’s all a lie?”

Ilva whirled on her, looking furious. “What else could he do?”

Helena stood up, ready to ignite. “Tell the truth! You don’t get to make up history to suit your preferences. Do you realise what you’ve done? Luc thinks he’s supposed to be earning a miracle. That the reason he hasn’t already won this war is because he hasn’t suffered or been enough like Orion to earn it, and that’s his fault. But there will never be a miracle that will save us. You’re torturing him to death on a lie.”

“That’s why I am making him miracles,” Ilva snapped back. She looked equally incensed, as if Helena were the traitor. “You think I want him to suffer? I want to tell him, but when is there time for that?” She swept her arm out. “Apollo should have been the one to tell him—when he was old enough, and ready for it all. There’s a process to it, but all that was destroyed when Ferron murdered Apollo and brought this war upon us. All I can do is try to make that faith real and keep him from losing hope.”

The whole city, the Principate, the Faith, the history, every mural, every amulet. All lies.

“You have to tell Luc the truth. You can’t keep doing this to him.”

“And what do you think would happen if he knows that no help is coming? What will he have then?” Ilva glared at her. “That is too great a risk, but now thanks to you, I am left with nothing but terrible choices.”

Helena set her jaw, too angry to accept the fault. “Why would you give me something like that without explaining what it was?”

Ilva’s eyes flashed. “Because I was trying to save you, spare you. I thought maybe the damned thing could manage that much, and it seemed that it did. But when Ferron made his offer, Crowther said it was the only chance we had left. I considered taking it back that night. I could have, after what you’d said before the Council, but I remembered your face when I first put it on you. I thought you treasured it enough to have sense. You stupid, stupid girl.” All the strength seemed to suddenly leave Ilva, and she nearly collapsed into a seat.

“You don’t get to lie to me and then get angry when I make the mistake of believing you,” Helena said. “If the Stone’s that special, why not let Luc use it.”

Ilva’s expression twisted bitterly. “It doesn’t serve the Holdfasts.” She looked away from Helena, jaw set. “Even in Orion’s own hands, it was hard and cold, never bestowing its power or favour upon anyone of the Holdfast line. There have been a few whom it would warm to, but it always went cold eventually. And you of all people had it. You could have done anything, and you healed Ferron with it.”

“So sorry I wasn’t the puppet you wanted,” Helena said bitterly, standing. She felt as if the entire world had dropped out from beneath her feet; she had no idea how to navigate this newfound reality. After so much time being maligned for her lack of faith, it was all an invention. She wasn’t sure what was real. Even being given to Kaine had been an elaborate con.

It had never been about securing Kaine’s loyalty, but simply about giving the earnest appearance that she was trying to.

And Luc. Her heart ached. What would he do if he learned the truth?

Could she tell him this? After all she’d omitted over the years, was she going to come clean by destroying everything he believed in?

She couldn’t. There was too much at stake, and Ilva knew that.

Helena paused as she reached the door. “In the future, perhaps tell me what you want instead of expecting me to fail where it’s convenient to you. Maybe then we’ll both end up less disappointed in each other.”

“You want honesty?” Ilva’s voice was viperous. “I want you to kill Kaine Ferron.”

Helena froze, turning slowly back.

Ilva met her eyes. She was composed again, chilly as a lake. “He was always going to die, but I want you to do it. You created this new threat to Luc, so you will put an end to it.”

“He hasn’t done anything to betray us.”

“He murdered my nephew.” Ilva’s voice cracked like a whip, and Helena saw the fury and hatred that the woman kept so carefully concealed. It rose like a beast from inside her. “You want to what? To wait and see who he’ll kill next? Whose life are you prepared to gamble on that?”

Her chest clenched. “You can’t ask me to betray—”

“Why not? What has he done for you, Marino, except play you like the fool you are? Are a few trinkets all your loyalty costs?” Ilva’s eyes flicked derisively to the oilcloth still clutched in Helena’s hand. “If Ferron wanted you, he would have taken you by now. You’re just a toy; he winds you up and watches you spin.”

“No. I’m making progress. A little more time and I’ll have him just the way Crowther wants him.”

Ilva gave a disbelieving laugh. “Crowther was delusional, thinking to use you to tame Ferron. You cannot bring a mad dog to heel.” She shook her head. “But very well, you’re welcome to refuse; it doesn’t matter, we have more than enough evidence of his treachery. Jan has been assembling a comprehensive package. It would be a trivial matter to send along to the Undying. I suppose you could say the case is ironclad. Do you prefer that? Do you think they’ll kill him this time?”

Helena’s chest felt as if it had been punched through. “You can’t do that to him.”

Ilva was unmoved. “Why not? It would be fitting, no? After everything he’s done. I’d say he more than deserves it.”

Helena realised then what she should have realised long before, that Ilva had always wanted revenge. Crowther looked at the civil war and saw all the political machinations of the surrounding countries; Ilva’s game of war was equally intricate, but hers was wholly personal. It was about Luc, it was about her family’s legacy, and it was about revenge.

Crowther had been the ambitious one who’d wanted Helena to make Kaine loyal, something utilised in the long term. That had never been Ilva’s goal.