Page 97 of Alchemised

Helena had never been very good at gifts.

Her singular success had been a map she’d given Luc, upon which she’d marked a route to all the places they’d travel someday.

She hadn’t given anything last year, but this year she’d thought of making medicine kits, with some basics that were good to have on hand in case the field medics weren’t nearby. But Ilva had made no mention this year of her seeing Luc or anyone else for solstice, so she’d discarded the idea.

After a few minutes, she went over and opened a cabinet, pulling out vials from various shelves, laying them out on a strip of waxed canvas, making marks on the fabric as she arranged everything to fit, blinking hard every few minutes.

She had a job. She had to do it.

T HE ICY, MISTING RAIN MADE it hard to see when Helena crossed the bridge the next week. She gripped her foraging knife close as she walked through the Outpost. It couldn’t be transmuted without losing its edge, but it was still serviceable.

It was going to be a while before she had an alchemy knife again.

A person couldn’t lose an alchemical weapon and expect to get a new one without an explanation.

If Helena said she lost it, she’d be subject to discipline and, as a noncombatant, be placed at the bottom of the wait list. If she attributed the loss to an attack, she would have to specify which attack.

Until Ilva or Crowther could find an unaccounted-for alchemy knife, Helena would have to make do.

The tenement was so cold that day, her breath condensed into a wisping cloud in the room. Kaine entered a minute later, shoving a hood back from his face. She looked away but couldn’t help but notice his black uniform was drenched.

“Where is your knife?”

Her heart sank. She’d hoped he wouldn’t notice immediately.

“Oh.” Her voice lifted in an awkward attempt at casualness. “Well—” She swallowed. “I lost it.”

“You—lost it?” He said it slowly, and she could hear the implied use of the word idiot punctuating each word. “When?”

She was still staring at the floor, watching his feet. He moved lightly, almost like a cat, making very little noise.

“Last week.”

His feet stilled. “You were attacked?”

He came towards her very quickly, and his eyes had that intense gleam to them, looking her up and down.

She shook her head. “No, I broke it. I needed tools for surgery when you wouldn’t wake up. So I made them.”

She risked glancing up then to gauge his expression, and rather enjoyed the stupefied look on his face.

“I’ll get a new one,” she added hurriedly. “There’s just some—logistical delays. Anyway, I brought you a present,” she said, forcing her voice to be bright.

She rummaged through her satchel, finding the wax-cloth case, and hurriedly held it out.

“It’s—it’s an, um—it’s an emergency healing kit,” she said, trying to explain herself quickly before he could refuse it. “I made it with things that will work with your regeneration.”

This seemed to catch him fully off guard. He stopped short and took it, then—realising that she was waiting expectantly—he sighed and flipped it open. “You realise I can buy medicine, and I don’t particularly need it.”

“Not these. I developed them. They’re designed to work with vivimancy—or regeneration in your case.”

She took a hesitant step closer, pointing at the various vials.

“They’re all labelled, and I added notes about exactly how to use them on the waxed paper here. These are made to support transmuta tional healing. Traditional medicine can interfere, so I’ve been developing things that complement a regenerative healing process.”

She pointed to the nearest vial. “This is yarrow powder infused with copper, to slow bleeding. You pack it around the wound before bandaging. I know you’re used to just letting yourself regenerate, but slowing blood loss is still a good idea.

This”—she tapped a blue-green bottle—“will support blood regeneration; it has a high concentration of the components your body needs, so you’re not giving yourself a deficit of crucial minerals and other things your body requires to function.

This is the salve I developed for your back, for topical pain.

If you have a wound that doesn’t heal, you can at least numb the area until—”

“Until what?” He looked sharply at her then.

She knew he expected her to say something like, Until you can come to me, and I’ll tenderly nurse you to health.

“That’s the other part of your present,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I thought I could show you some healing techniques, so you can do them yourself. I know most of the time you don’t need it, but if you’re strategic and direct the way your body regenerates, you’ll recover faster.”

She reached towards him slowly. “May I?”

He gave the barest nod.

She took his hand and set it on her own arm, then rested her fingers over his. She ran her resonance through his fingers, into her own body, the sensation creating an almost ghostly feeling under her skin.

“Of course, my body isn’t the same as yours, but—most of the anatomy is, and you do regenerate according to the same basic rules.

” She spoke in the efficient way that she’d taught the trainees.

She was grateful now for the practice. “You’ve mentioned that regeneration starts with the most vital parts of the body: brain, organs, limbs.

When you lost your arm, the reason it didn’t regenerate was because you’d been bleeding too long, and you’d already had to heal from extensive burns.

Just because you have the vitality to regenerate doesn’t mean that you necessarily have the physical resources for it.

Those have to come from somewhere. If you’re badly injured, you might not have a resonance stable enough to heal yourself, but you can guide it, and the kit can provide support. ”

She ploughed through as much information as she could. Showing him all the different systems in the body, how they interacted, how a disruption in one place could have effects elsewhere.

She kept rattling off tips for as long as she could, working through all the major systems as quickly as possible.

“Eyes are awful. I mean, hopefully if you ever lost one, it would just grow back, but if not …” She exhaled. “The tissue doesn’t matrice the same way. It’s very tedious work, and nerve-racking. You should—probably come to me for that. Well, I mean—”

She stammered.

“The High Necromancer doesn’t have eyes,” he said.

She stopped short and looked up. “What?”

She’d never seen Morrough, but she’d heard that during his rare appearances, he wore a golden mask—a large crescent that obscured most of his face and fanned out like horns on each side of his head. An eclipsing sun.

“It’s rather gory to look at, but he doesn’t seem to mind.” He pulled his hand free, clearly done with the lecturing. “It’s like someone burned them out. He uses his resonance to see.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.” She rubbed her hands on her skirt. “Well, that’s the basics. If there’s anything you’d want added to the kit, or ideas you have, I can try to make them.”

“The basics?” He pulled a watch out of his pocket. “You’ve been talking for over an hour.”

She fumbled for her own watch, certain he was mistaken. No, he wasn’t. She was going to be late for her shift if she didn’t leave.

“I mean … it was still only the basics,” she said defensively, but she added, “I should go. Happy solstice. I hope your days grow brighter.”

He did not return the season’s greeting but then spoke as she reached the door.

“Marino.”

She tensed, looking back. He was still standing where she’d left him, irritation evident in the sweep of his eyes. He looked her up and down as if debating something.

“I have—something for you,” he finally said, as if having a tooth extracted. He pulled out something rolled up in an oilcloth and held it towards her.

Inside lay a set of beautiful daggers, sheathed in mesh holsters. Helena felt her resonance respond before she even touched them.

“The longer one goes on your back, the smaller one on your forearm,” Kaine said when she was silent.

“They’re sized for you. Titanium and nickel is a mnemonic alloy, which will allow you to transmute them further than most weapons; they’ll still return to form.

It has three memory shapes depending on the resonance phase you use, and you can alter them if you wish. That’s why the sheaths are malleable.”

She picked up the larger dagger.

After the months of training with a steel weapon, the dagger hardly weighed anything.

She slipped it from the sheath, and it sang in her fingers.

She barely had to focus her resonance before it morphed, maintaining its razor edge but changing shape and length entirely, unfurling like a ribbon into a long, flexible whiplike blade.

She altered the timbre of her resonance just slightly, and without her even needing to guide the metal, the blade morphed back into a perfect dagger.

She let out an unsteady breath, hardly able to believe that anything could be so easy to transmute. It was as effortless as moving her own fingers, and it weighed nothing.

She couldn’t stop turning them over, taking in every detail, the weight and texture, the incredible sharpness of the blades. There were elegant curving details like vines on the hilts that made the grip more secure.

She didn’t know what to say. Thank you felt entirely insufficient.

Kaine was watching her, his eyes intent, but the expression vanished the instant she looked up. His eyebrows drew down. “You are not ever allowed to take these apart or turn them into medical instruments. Not for anyone.”

She flushed. “I thought you said the shapes were programmable.”

“Not enough to be entirely deconstructed. Are we clear, Marino?” His voice was icy.

“All right. I promise,” she said, rolling her eyes. Trust Kaine to ruin any moment.

After a pause she looked at him again. “Thank you. I don’t even know what to say. They’re beautiful.”

He avoided meeting her eyes. “It’s nothing.

” He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you like them, though, because I expect you to wear both every time you set foot outside of Headquarters.

Actually—you should always be wearing them.

They shouldn’t come off unless you’re asleep.

These do not belong in the bottom of your satchel.

When you arrive here, I will expect to see them already on you, every time. Are we clear?”

“Yes, I’ll wear them,” she said as if it were a concession. She didn’t ever want to put them down.

“Good.” He shifted. “Well, this has been delightful. I can’t even remember how many times I’ve wished someone would lecture me on the systems of the human body.”

She looked up, and he smiled insincerely at her.

He started turning to leave and then paused. “Now that you have a decent weapon, I think we’ll move on to training that’s a bit more intense. Be ready for that next week.” He held out an envelope. “My latest instalment.”

As she reached to take it, he held on until she met his eyes.

“I must say, Marino, you’ve ended up being quite expensive.”