Page 7 of Alchemised

“Your Eminence.” Stroud sounded pleading. “The Order of the Eternal Flame is gone. Their ashes are all that remain.”

“I did not ask you,” Morrough said, his focus on the man, who’d turned a sickly green.

“I don’t—believe—”

“ Get out. ” The air hummed.

The man blanched and bowed repeatedly, thanking Morrough for his mercy and patience as he walked backwards out of the room with visible relief on his face.

“What are you hiding?” Morrough loomed above her.

Her heart beat faster and faster. She had no answer.

Stroud leaned over as well, eyes narrowed in appraisal.

“Your Eminence, perhaps if we removed the frontmost section of her brain, we might be able to penetrate some of the memories before the fevers become detrimental,” she said, trailing her finger thoughtfully across Helena’s forehead.

“Or it might alter the pathways enough to revert things. I would be honoured to maintain her vitals while you perform the vivisection.”

Terror sliced through Helena as Morrough nodded. Stroud stepped to the side, adjusting the light overhead, as though intending to begin immediately.

“Pardon,” a soft voice interrupted, and Helena felt a rush of relief until she realised it was the traitor, Shiseo, standing with his case gripped in his hands. “I have just remembered one small thing. There was a General Bayard. His head was injured in the war.”

“Yes.” Stroud seemed irritated by the interruption.

“The brain was healed, but”—he paused as if struggling to find the right words—“it blocked him from who he was—his mind, his true self.”

“Yes. We are aware of what happened to Bayard. Nonverbal. Dependent. His wife had to care for him like a child,” Stroud said, her voice waspish.

“Of course, I apologise. It was probably nothing.” Shiseo bowed and appeared to be on the verge of leaving.

“Wait.” Stroud sounded conciliatory. “You’ve begun now. Tell us what your point is.”

Shiseo stopped. “I don’t know all the details, but I believe they pursued a cure for him late in the war. A complicated procedure of the mind.”

“By a healer or by a surgeon?” Stroud leaned forward.

Shiseo tilted his head as if trying to recall. “A healer.”

Stroud pursed her lips. “Elain Boyle, I imagine.”

Shiseo tilted his head again, no recognition in his face.

“She was Luc Holdfast’s personal healer. The Eternal Flame was rather lax in their record keeping, but Elain Boyle’s name appeared frequently in the last year of the war. She seemed to have become unusually distinguished.” Stroud tapped her fingers on her lips, sucking at her teeth again.

“Where is Boyle now?” Morrough asked.

“Killed when we seized the Institute. I believe her body was sent to the mines. We could see if there are any remains.” Stroud’s attention returned to Shiseo. “What did the Eternal Flame do with Bayard that you think is somehow relevant?”

Shiseo bowed again.

“I was only aware of this because they hoped there were similar techniques used in the Eastern Empire. The healer, I was told, had a special ability to—to alter not just the brain but the mind. They proposed to enter the mind of Bayard and heal him from within.”

The mood in the room suddenly shifted, growing electrified.

“That would be animancy, not healing,” Stroud said with slow incredulity.

“I do not know, the words were—different,” Shiseo said. “The mind, I was told, resisted another’s presence, but this healer believed that with many small treatments, it was possible. Like learning to tolerate a poison.”

“Mithridatism,” Morrough said slowly. He straightened into his full, tremendous height. “Soul mithridatism …”

He advanced on Shiseo as if intending to rip the answers out of him. “The Eternal Flame found a way to make living subjects survive soul transference? And you never thought to mention this?”

Helena thought she was about to watch another rib cage be torn open.

Shiseo remained eerily calm and bowed again. “I apologise. They asked me many questions. It is hard to remember.”

Morrough seemed appeased by this excuse and turned back, considering Helena once more as if still inclined to vivisect her in search of answers.

“If the Eternal Flame did have an animancer who developed a temporary transference method … could that explain this form of memory loss? If another person could enter someone’s mind like that, they might be able to alter thoughts and memories, just as we see here.

It would explain everything,” Stroud asked, gesturing at Helena.

“And … I must say it seems more likely than far-fetched notions of self-transmutation.”

“If the Eternal Flame discovered a viable method of transference, that has more significance than mere memory loss,” Morrough said. Helena could feel his resonance in her marrow, as if it were burrowing into her flesh, attempting to peel her apart, layer by layer.

He looked towards Stroud. “Record every detail Shiseo remembers of this procedure before his departure east. We will begin testing this gradual transference method. I want it perfected. If it is possible, we’ll use it to remove the transmutation on her and see what the Eternal Flame was so desperate to hide from me. ”

Morrough drew a breath that rattled as he turned away.

“Your Eminence,” Stroud said, her voice nervous.

“This transference procedure you wish to begin testing, it would require an animancer, I believe?” She gave a weak cough.

“I’m sure Bennet would have been thrilled by the opportunity, but unfortunately souls are not within my resonance repertoire, and there’s only one other.

Would this be something that you and I—” Her voice lifted hopefully.

“Let the High Reeve manage it.”

Stroud’s face fell. “But I found h—”

“I have other work for you.”

Stroud straightened but still looked disappointed.

“The High Reeve was Bennet’s favourite after all.” Morrough waved a dismissive hand as he vanished into the shadows. “It’s time he’s given more to do than hunting.”