Page 71 of Alchemised

The girl stepped forward. She moved haltingly, like a deer, but her eyes were sharp and foxlike. She was perhaps fifteen, but Helena doubted she was even that. She’d never heard of a vivimancer so young. As Pace had said, typically it manifested later in life.

The war had prematurely aged people in all kinds of ways.

Ivy didn’t say a word as Helena gestured at her left wrist and explained in the simplest terms what she thought was wrong with it, what needed to be done, and what to be careful of.

Helena had never been healed by anyone except herself, and she shot several panicked looks at Crowther as Ivy reached out and touched her arm.

The girl was startlingly adept with her vivimancy, but her resonance was not subtle at all.

The pain and swelling in Helena’s wrist and fingers rapidly vanished, and Ivy searched for the fracture in Helena’s wrist. In a matter of min utes, Helena could move her fingers again without much pain and begin to feel her resonance.

“Thank you,” she said, drawing her hand away as quickly as she could.

Ivy’s hand dropped to her side. She watched Helena, an uncanny look of curiosity in her eyes. “My sister likes you.”

“Oh. Does she work in the hospital?”

“Ivy,” Crowther said sharply, “out now. And not a word about this to anyone.”

Ivy gave a careless nod as she left.

Crowther closed the door again. Helena wanted to ask who the girl was, but she dreaded the conversation and turned her attention to her right hand. She blocked the nerves at the elbow and began a cautious examination.

“What happened?”

“I think Ferron was upset about last week,” she said, glad she had something to focus on so she didn’t have to look at Crowther. “You know how prideful he is. I don’t think he liked that I’d helped him. I barely arrived and he said he wanted to see me fight.”

She glanced up in time to see Crowther’s lips disappear into a thin line.

“Did you reveal your vivimancy?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Crowther nodded, still looking sceptical.

“Who was that girl?” Helena asked.

“Orphan,” Crowther said. “Found her in the slums.” He made a sound of irritation.

“You’ll say you caught a cold. You can have a few days off.

But you can’t be seen returning to Headquarters like this again.

There’s a drop location a little way away; it’s kept stocked with clothes, basic supplies.

In the future, you’ll go there for things like this.

If you don’t turn up here, that’s where you’ll be looked for. ”

Helena gave a dull nod as the swelling in her right hand was finally reduced to the point that she could use it to examine Ivy’s work on her left hand.

She had nothing to do while her hands finished recovering. Having days off was overly cautious, but better to be safe. If she ended up with nerve damage in her hands, she’d be rendered almost useless.

She preoccupied herself by sorting through the contents of her trunk.

There wasn’t much inside it but old notebooks from her classes at the Institute.

Most of her possessions had been left behind in Etras because the Institute had small dorms and strict dress codes.

Inside a small box lay a tintype of Helena with her father just before she’d begun at the Institute.

Ten years old and in uniform, her expression so eager.

Her father had worn his white medical coat for the picture, even though he wasn’t licensed in Paladia.

He’d wanted to look professional when he brought her.

She closed the box and picked up the amulet, letting the rays align with the scars in her palm.

She went over to the window, still holding it, as she clambered out onto the roof. It had been Luc who’d shown her how to climb from the windows and onto the gently sloping roof below the Tower beacon.

The fires of the Eternal Flame glowed overhead as she stood there alone, a low iron railing the only barrier between her and the lethal drop.

She wished she could shut her mind off for a little while. The redirection technique could only create a little space, but her misery just kept seeping back.

She stared at the suncrest as the white flames overhead glittered across its surface. She almost let it drop off the edge, wanting to watch it fall until it vanished.

She felt ashamed every time she looked at it, embarrassed by how much meaning she’d thought it had.

She let the chain slip through her fingers but stopped.

No. This amulet didn’t represent Ilva, it stood for Luc. Ilva had exploited that, but it wasn’t Luc’s fault. Helena was doing this for him, and he was worth it.

She pulled the chain back over her neck, hiding it beneath her clothes, and sat staring across the city as the gold grew warm against her heart.

W HEN SHE WENT BACK TO the Outpost the following week, there were contingencies in place.

The drop point in an abandoned basement would function as a makeshift safe house.

If injured beyond her healing abilities, Helena would go there.

There were basic medical supplies and a shortwave radio.

A coded message would have Ivy dispatched.

Ferron was late. Again. He was often late, but she was too anxious to wait this time. She was pulling her satchel onto her shoulder just as the door opened.

She flinched when he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Her heart lurched when she heard it click and lock.

“I’m late,” he said.

Helena had to focus and make herself breathe before she could speak. “Are we—t-training again this week?”

“No,” he said quickly. “No. I won’t do that to you again.”

She gave a short nod, but she knew better than to believe him now. He’d redefine the terms of the deal every time it was convenient to him.

She watched him warily.

He started to open his mouth but then stopped, his hand curling into a fist.

“What?” she snapped, glaring at him, sick of waiting for what he’d do next.

He avoided her eyes, looking at the floor.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said.

She gave a brittle laugh. “Well, I always expected you would.”

Anger flashed in his eyes as he looked up at her.

She was beginning to make sense of him now.

He thought he was better than the other Undying.

He resented anything that lumped him in with them.

That was why he’d backtracked and tried to pretend that she had autonomy in the arrangement.

But no matter what he wanted to tell himself, he was cut from the same cloth as all the rest of them.

She glared at him. “If anyone had died last week because I was too injured to work, that would have been on your head.”

He scoffed. “Is that supposed to matter to me?”

“It would, if you were human.”

His jaw clenched. “Well, if we’re being honest today, you’re pathetic at self-defence. Worse than I expected. Which is saying something, because I have a very low opinion of you. I assumed they’d keep all their medics somewhat combat-ready.”

“The hospital is protected. That’s more practical than expecting the medical staff to be trained and practising for combat situations.”

She could tell Ferron disagreed.

“Well, you’re not in the hospital right now.” He walked around her slowly. “You’re too scrawny. No muscle at all. I don’t think I can even do anything with you in this state. I’m going to need to start you with callisthenics before I can even get anywhere with you.”

Helena’s least favourite class at the Institute had been callisthenics. “Even if I exercise, you can’t train me in anything that could hurt my hands.”

He paused. “If you get hurt, I’ll fix it.”

Helena’s head swam. It hadn’t occurred to her that if he wanted to, he could hurt her, heal her, and hurt her again, leaving no trace.

He pulled out an envelope, extending it, but when she tried to take it, he held on, studying her. “Are there food shortages?”

She said nothing, just held on to the envelope, waiting for him to let go. Crowther had been clear that Ferron should glean no intelligence from her.

His mouth hardened into a flat line. “The transport information I included for the southern quarter is likely food supplies. If they manage to seize them, tell Crowther to increase whatever your rations are.”

A WEEK LATER, ONE OF the scouting teams managed to capture and kill a chimaera, although they admitted it had already been nearly dead when they cornered it.

The corpse had been brought back for analysis, and after some debate, Helena was assigned the job of dissecting it.

The chimaeras were made with vivimancy, therefore a vivimancer would be needed to understand the process. It was the duty of the Eternal Flame to study the practices of their enemies.

The remains already smelled terrible, as though the chimaera had been in an early stage of decomposition when it died.

In the process of creation it had been flensed and vivisected, its muscles filleted and intermingled with the parts of other creatures.

Several of the organs had been replaced.

It had the skull of a reptile, but part had been hollowed out and made to accommodate a larger mammalian brain.

It wasn’t created using necromancy; reanimating animals had been attempted many times in the past and never worked. The chimaera had been alive when it was made, but Helena couldn’t imagine how it had been kept alive.

Shiseo was on standby as she worked, handing her tools as she needed them. She didn’t understand why he worked with her as an assistant. He was too educated for it; the breadth of his metallurgical knowledge would have put many grandmasters to shame. Ilva’s request was an insult.

While she was writing up the report, Shiseo busied himself with sketching compound arrays for the metal-infused tinctures they’d been discussing. Silver and copper and iron all had medicinal uses and could boost the efficacy of certain extracts.

“Shiseo,” she said, looking up, “do you have a workspace of your own?”

He paused. “No. I was meant to perhaps teach at the Institute, but—” He shook his head.

She shifted, feeling awkward about how long it had taken for her to realise why he’d taken the post. “I should have said something sooner. If you want to work on your own projects, you’re welcome to use this space.”

He gave a vague smile, inclining his head, but she could tell immediately that he wouldn’t take her up on the offer.

Perhaps she was wrong. Had Ilva guilted him into the position? Of course. He’d come seeking political asylum, and Ilva had called in that debt. It would explain why he was so carefully inoffensive. She felt guilty, but she did need him.

“I should warn you, I technically stole this lab,” she said, looking up.

“I mean, obviously it’s always been here, and no one was using it, but I did just move in and start making things without permission.

” She shrugged. “Everyone just assumes someone else must have approved it. So if you don’t like—ill-gotten laboratories, I understand, but you are welcome to use the space for whatever you’re interested in. ”

He looked at her with his impassive, guarded face, and then the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Perhaps there are a few things.”

I N THE WEEKS THAT FOLLOWED, Ferron’s liaising grew sporadic.

Helena dutifully performed callisthenics, per his instructions, but he often failed to appear.

Sometimes there’d be an envelope left on the table; other times, Helena would wait and eventually leave empty-handed.

Her ring would burn at odd hours, and she would be forced to hurry to the Outpost, only to find a letter or map left, Ferron having already moved on.

The information seemed useful, but she could tell that Crowther was giving up on her, treating her as a write-off.

She was startled when she opened the door of the tenement and found Ferron waiting for her again.

He was sitting at the table with a silver coin in his hand, spinning and flipping it idly when she entered.

There was a long silence before he spoke without looking over at her.

“The High Necromancer will be out of the country for the next week. He’s travelling into Hevgoss.

There have been extensive preparations made for it.

Nearly a third of the Undying will be travelling with him.

The trip has been kept secret; only a few know. ”

There was a pause.

Ferron pocketed the coin. “He’s never left like this before. If the Resistance has been waiting for an opening, this would be the time. The Undying are unlikely to coordinate well because they’ll all want the credit and glory for themselves.”

“And I assume you’re among those going,” she said, because of course he’d leave the city to burn, and for the blame to fall, and only come back to reap the rewards.

This was what he’d been working towards from the beginning.

His long game. The Resistance was playing right into his hands, and there wasn’t anything Helena could do about that, because they had to seize an opportunity like this, or they might as well surrender now.

They wouldn’t last to the end of the year.

He said nothing.

“Anything else?”

He shook his head as he stood and walked to the door, pausing just before he opened it. “I think we might as well plan to skip the next few weeks. I don’t expect to make it.”