Page 299 of Alchemised

Shiseo designed a nullium cuff to create targeted resonance suppression, locking around the wrist to blur the resonance into a feeling like static.

Helena tested it, locking one around her own wrist, flexing her fingers, sliding it up her arm. When it was near her elbow, she could push through the interference. She shook her head. “These don’t fully suppress the resonance.”

She took it off, inspecting the interior Shiseo had lined with nullium.

“If we really wanted to completely erase it, I think it would have to be internal,” she said. “If the nullium were encased in ceramic, that would prevent the corrosion and biointerference. If you put a thin tube of it right through the wrist here”—she pressed her fingers against the space between the radius and ulna—“the cuff could slot around a suppression spike and alchemically lock in place. I bet there wouldn’t be any resonance then.”

Shiseo looked so disturbed that Helena realised the reality of what she was proposing beyond its practical function.

It was one thing to think about cuffing the various Undying, all hidden behind their helmets and their dead, but when she thought about Kaine, a more likely prisoner, a pit opened inside her stomach.

She shook her head. “Never mind. That’s too much. We don’t need to suppress that much.”

“It would probably work.”

She shook her head. “It’s not necessary. This design is good enough.”

SOMETIMES HELENA’S RING WOULD BURN twice, and often when that happened, Amaris would arrive, and Kaine would practically collapse off her back. Other times, Amaris would appear alone. Helena would climb onto the chimaera’s back, clinging to the harness as the air whipped around, and they’d fly into the underbelly of the city, to a basement, a wrecked building, or sometimes an alley, and she would find Kaine. Usually a piece of nullium shrapnel would be buried into him somewhere, deep enough that he couldn’t get it out.

She learned to always have her satchel stocked with medical tools and bandages and all kinds of different medicines. As the nullium grew increasingly effective, the injuries often required surgery. She grew adept at manual surgery with only an electric torch for light.

He wouldn’t let her knock him out, wanting to keep watch in case someone came, but he’d often be half delirious, his eyes nearly glowing silver, muttering under his breath, “I’m all right—I barely feel it. Don’t worry. We’ll go soon … Got it worked out. Just—a little longer …”

She’d sit with his head on her lap, singing softly to him while he stabilised, holding his hands in hers. Nullium slowed his recovery so much. He’d have lost so much blood, he’d float on the edge of consciousness or begin trembling and go into shock. She’d run her fingers and resonance across his palms, and murmur apologies.

You’re killing him. You’re killing him. This is because of you.

She’d only let herself cry over him when he wasn’t conscious to see it. She gripped his hands in hers, trying to fix him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said over and over.

She’d wipe her eyes and then clean up the blood before he regained consciousness. She’d feel the tension tear through his body the instant he came back to himself and feel him breathe when he looked up and saw her.

On the long nights, Amaris would curl up behind Helena, nuzzling at Kaine’s limp hands. Helena would sit, tracing her fingers along Kaine’s face, following his every heartbeat and promising, “I’m going to take care of you. I promise, I’m always going to take care of you.”

CHAPTER 56

Maius 1787

THE UNDYING USED THE FIRST NULLIUM BOMB in the middle of spring.

The Resistance had known an attack like that was coming; the use of nullium had been growing ever since the Undying had used it against Lila, and although the injuries were severe, as a combat weapon nullium was limited in its utility because of how fragile it was. As a bomb, however, it was devastating.

A few tiny pieces of shrapnel were all it took to wipe out an alchemist’s resonance. If it dissolved and was distributed through the blood, the hospital had to manually suture the wounds, administer chelating agents, and then wait for the patient’s resonance to recover.

Expert alchemical medicine combined with healing had made recovery for Resistance fighters efficient; so long as a combatant didn’t die from blood loss, injuries that in other parts of the world would take months to recover from could be healed here in days or weeks.

With nullium, however, convalescence slowed to a crawl.

The hospital had prepared as much as they could, medics and surgeons learning about manual surgery and the chymistry department producing a large supply of chelating agents, but logistics were not enough to improve morale. People were terrified. Alchemy and resonance were everything; the idea of being without was like returning to a pre-alchemical stone age.

Ilva, who took so much in stride, seemed knocked permanently off balance after Luc’s capture, failing to comprehend and proactively address the fallout. Perhaps because she was a Lapse, she was incapable of understanding the emotional severity of the mere threat, its impact on morale.

The only bright spot was that Luc seemed to abruptly realise his responsibilities. Largely cloistered in his rooms, he suddenly reappeared at an assembly that Althorne had called to soothe Resistance unrest. Luc appeared dressed all in white and gold, burning with righteous indignation. Physically, he was shrunken. Though his armour concealed most of it, his features were visibly gaunt. Still, it was as though his body were merely a shell now, and his soul shone through. He seemed to radiate life.

“Morrough, like every necromancer before him, wants the Resistance to be afraid, and for the Eternal Flame’s light to be extinguished,” he said, his blue eyes burning. “We will not give them that satisfaction. Paladia is ours. We built this city as a beacon; that light has protected the world from necromancy’s stain for generations. The gods are on our side. Sol is unconquerable. The laws of nature will not give victory to corruption. We will not fail; we know the rewards our ancestors received for their faithfulness and bravery, and we will taste the same!”

There was a grimness in his voice, and yet he was strangely breathtaking as he spoke, like the sun at its zenith. She could feel the mood in the air shift from uncertainty and fear to conviction. To faith.