Chapter 17 - 17

you've been climbing rank, they assumed you've been playing the two

sides against each other, so you'll be the one who comes out on top in

the end."

"Did you think that?" he asked softly.

She swallowed hard, still not meeting his eyes. "No, but it doesn't

really matter what I think. They said just before solstice that I had a

month to"— her voice dropped, lower than a whisper—"make you crawl

or kill you, or they'd let Morrough do it instead."

He laughed again. "One week to go then. So this was a goodbye

fuck? Final payment for services rendered?"

A tremor ran through Helena. "No. I—I just— "

Her throat closed. She leaned forward, gripping his shirt, wanting to

shake him. She hated the way he'd switch, one moment vulnerable and

the next so bitterly cruel.

"I just have to prove that you'll do what I ask. If I can—they won't

kill you." She studied his face desperately.

His eyebrows rose mockingly. "Really? Is that all? Just servitude and

I'll get to continue this delightful existence of mine so long as I'm more

useful alive than dead? That's so generous. How could I possibly refuse?"

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Her grip loosened, and she gave a disbelieving laugh.

He didn't want to be saved. Her efforts had only made things worse.

All because Ilva and Crowther hadn't told her, they'd made her believe

it was all real, but it didn't matter—it had never mattered whether she

believed it— because Kaine had always known.

She drew a slow breath trying to reorient herself, but her mind

wouldn't comprehend it.

It couldn't end like this. She'd done what she'd been told to do. She'd

followed orders. She wasn't supposed to have to make this choice.

"I—I have to follow orders. I can't choose you. There's too many

people at stake," she said, her voice shaking.

"I know."

Her mouth opened and closed, but there was nothing else to say.

"All right," she finally managed, her voice far away. She felt as though

she'd been knifed, reality cold as tempered steel driven into her heart.

"Do you— " Her voice broke. "Do you want it to be me? Or does it—

not matter?"

She knew Ilva probably wanted the Stone back if it could be recov-

ered, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

He scoffed. "You lost your chance."

Her throat worked several times before she could speak. "I'm sorry."

He didn't reply. There was not even a flicker of remorse in his eyes.

He looked cruelly satisfied.

There was no air in the room. She kept trying to breathe, but there

wasn't any oxygen. A dull ringing filled her ears. She looked blindly for

her satchel, trying to remember where she'd left it. She knelt wavering,

willing her mind to function.

"So, what happens to you now?"

Helena blinked. "Me?"

"Yes." He leaned forward and caught her chin, tilting her face so that

the light from the windows fell across it, a pale slice of winter. "What

happens to you?"

"When you're— gone?"

He gave a short nod.

"I don't know," she said with a short hysterical laugh. She pulled

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away. "Like you said, I've always been expendable, so maybe they'll offer

me to the next spy."

"Don't joke. I want a real answer." There was a sharp undercurrent to

his voice.

She met his eyes then. "I promised I was yours. You made me swear

it. I didn't make plans."

Anger darkened his face. "Surely there's something you're looking

forward to now."

She reached out, her fingers brushing over his heart. "No. I'm—

spent."

As she stood, she thought of Luc standing on the top of the Al-

chemy Tower, so close to the edge. She hadn't understood why he'd

gone there. How she and everyone else who needed him weren't enough

to hold him back, but now, that edge called her, the abyss that would

open once she'd split across the marble.

The air swam, her eyes struggling to focus because all she could hear

was the drumbeat of her heart inside her skull.

Everyone who touches you, dies.

"What do they want?" His voice was almost a whisper.

She looked back. "What?"

"Is it— actual crawling? Or was there something more constructive

Ilva had in mind?"

Her throat closed. "I—I'd have to ask."

"Find out. I'll do it." He looked exhausted, but now there was an

edge of something seething in him.

"Are you really offering?" she asked, certain it was a trick.

He gave no response.

"Why are you offering?" Her voice rose, a note of hysteria in it.

He looked up at her a moment. "I realise just now that I'd miscalcu-

lated something. It hadn't occurred to me that I'd made you market-

able."

The words thudded against her chest. "Oh."

Apparently, Crowther was right after all. The Ferrons were posses-

sive enough to eat themselves alive before they'd let go of anything they

considered theirs.

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"I'll bring an answer back," she said.

He gave a short nod and looked away from her, saying nothing else

as she went and pulled on her cloak, using it to hide her ripped clothes.

She slung her satchel over her shoulder.

His hand twitched as she reached the door, but when she glanced

back one last time, he'd looked away, still leaning against the wall, star-

ing across the room, so pale he could have been a ghost.

She walked out of the tenement into a downpour of rain. She stood

beneath it, trying to gain her bearings, drawing rapid breaths. She was

on a precipice; she could still feel that edge, the plunge if she mis-

stepped.

She kept her hood pulled up at the checkpoint, but she was familiar

enough that they waved her through without being thorough. A secu-

rity failure, but she was grateful for it. She split from her usual route,

heading to the drop point. She couldn't show up at Headquarters like

this.

As she neared it, signs of the war began to appear, as they did in

every part of the city below Headquarters. The walls were scorched and

distorted from combat.

The drop-point safe house was little more than a sub-basement stor-

age room.

Her hands were stiff and trembling as she shoved the door closed.

She focused first on lighting a fire in the portable stove using the dis-

carded pile of kindling and old newspapers.

She was struggling to coax the fire to life, wishing her knowledge of

pyromancy extended beyond the theoretical, when the door opened.

She turned quickly, hoping it wasn't Ivy although a stranger might be

worse.

It was Crowther who entered. He stopped short, irritation pinching

his face.

Helena looked back to the fire.

"Are you injured?"

She shook her head. He nudged her out of the way.

With the snap of his fingers, there was fire, the wood igniting with a

crackling roar. Helena held her hands out towards the flames, saying

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nothing. He went into the next room and returned with a towel. She

took it wordlessly, scrubbing her face until water stopped trickling from

her hair. She could feel him scrutinising her.

"Is it done then?" he asked when she lowered it to her lap and reached

towards the fire again.

Her throat caught. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded. "Yes, I

did it."

He released a soft breath of relief, and his right hand patted briefly

on her shoulder. "You can give the talisman to Ilva."

She kept staring at the fire. "He was being honest when he said he

wanted to avenge his mother."

Crowther sighed, but Helena kept speaking.

"Back when Atreus was arrested, Kaine was safe at the Institute, but

his mother wasn't. You know vivimancy for torture doesn't always leave

evidence behind. Kaine killed Principate Apollo because it was the only

way to save her. But she never recovered from it. Certain kinds of stress

for too long can damage the heart."

There was a tense pause, and she could feel Crowther's doubt perme-

ating the air.

Helena didn't look away from the fire. The heat singed her hands, but

she didn't draw them away. If her hands scorched, maybes she wouldn't

feel the rest of her body.

"Atreus used to make Kaine swear he'd take care of his mother, be-

cause he blamed him for Enid being sickly afterwards. She wouldn't

leave Paladia, though, and eventually the torture caught up with her.

She died at home, but there was nothing natural about it."

There was no sound but the crackle of fire.

Perhaps Crowther already knew all that. She had no idea how much

he and Ilva had lied to her, choosing to present Kaine's motive as power

because that was how they'd wanted Helena to perceive him.

She closed her eyes, wanting to sink into the floor. "He wants to

know what you want. You and Ilva. What proof of loyalty you want

from him."

The air shifted and then Crowther's fingers grasped hold of Helena's

shoulder, pulling her to her feet and turning her to face him. His eyes

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584 • SenLinYu

swept from the top of her head and slowly down, catching on various

points along the way.

"What did you do?" he finally said.

She met his eyes, lifting her chin. "I completed my mission. I made

him loyal."

She was used to Crowther being unfazed by nearly everything, but

he looked as if he'd been struck by lightning. Then he pulled over to the

window where the light was strongest, pushing her cloak off with his

right hand, so he could get a good look at her.

Her braids had been pulled loose, the sections hanging haphazardly.

His fingers dropped down to her neck, brushing against a spot that

made her flinch. Before she could stop him, he flipped the clasp on her

cloak; heavy with rain, it slid off her shoulders and to the floor with a

wet thud, revealing her torn clothes, and all the bruises from the train-

ing that she usually healed before she got back.

She recoiled, shrinking back towards the shadows. She wanted to say

it wasn't what it looked like, but she didn't think he'd believe her.

"I'm fine," she said, but her voice shook. "I only came here to clean

up. You said not to go back to Headquarters if I wasn't put together."

Crowther's mouth was pressed into a hard line, and he started to

speak—but then his eyes swept over her again and he slowly let go.

Helena twisted free, shoulders hunching inward. There was a small

bathroom through the next room. She locked the door and stared at the

reflection in the mirror; she was so pale that she was nearly grey, but her

lips were red and bruised. Her hair looked like a bird's nest, only made

worse by the rain.

She turned away, rummaging for a cloth, anything to clean herself

up with. Stripping off her underclothes and trying to scrub them clean.

The cold, stinging wet between her legs had her feeling almost hysteri-

cal.

Her hands were shaking as she threw the rag into a bin under the

sink, barely steady enough to remove the hairpins tangled in her hair.

Her lips were trembling, eyes burning as she braided her hair.

She bit down on her lip as she coiled the long braids carefully at the

base of her neck.

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Her fingers were trembling too hard to make her resonance stable, so

she left the bruises.

Calm down. You only have one chance to convince Crowther.

But the more she thought it, the more unsteady her breathing be-

came. She crouched on the floor, pressing her hands over her face until

she was quiet.

She looked at her reflection again. She was thinner now than she'd

been when she first saw Kaine last spring. Her cheeks had hollowed,

there were craters of exhaustion under her eyes, and her collarbones jut-

ted out. Stress had carved her away like water cutting through sand.

She rummaged through her satchel and found a salve for bruises,

spreading it across her lips. Eventually her hands were steady enough

that she could conceal the bruises with a tingle of resonance, watching

the only colour in her skin slowly fade.

She pulled on a fresh shirt and walked out. The rooms were silent.

"Crowther," she called, her voice hollow.

There was no answer. She went to the front room; the fire had

dimmed to embers, and he was gone.

She swallowed hard, trying not to cry. Of course he'd gone. He wasn't

going to listen. No one would. He'd picked up whatever he'd come for

and left again.

A pit of despair opened in her stomach.

Your failure was always the plan.

The room seemed to stretch as she reached the door. Her hands were

shaking too much to manage the knob.

It swung open, Crowther reentering. He was dripping wet, his thin

hair plastered against his scalp. He looked like a wet cat.

"What are you doing?" he said as he came back in. "Sit down."

He had a paper packet in his hand, already tearing from the rain. He

ripped it open, and several bottles tumbled out.

"I wasn't sure what was needed," he said.

She looked at the vials. He must have gone back to Headquarters

and taken them from the hospital. The drop point kept basic medical

supplies but nothing too valuable or prone to supply shortages. She

recognised her own handwriting on the labels.

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586 • SenLinYu

She stared at them, and considered taking the laudanum, something

to smooth down the razor-sharp edges of her emotions, but she needed

to stay clearheaded.

She inspected the next option. A contraceptive.

Her throat worked as she set it down. "You know I don't need that."

The only useful thing he'd brought was a valerian tincture, which the

hospital used to calm patients who were in shock.

"What happened?" Crowther asked as she unscrewed the lid and

swallowed it.

"You know what happened," she said. "Exactly what you expected

when you sent me there. I'm just a bit slow."

"Marino." His voice was sharp but then he seemed to catch himself

and softened it. "What happened?"

She'd planned to go to Headquarters and make her report without

any explanations about exactly why or how, to be calm and assured, but

Crowther had caught her before she was ready. Her jaw began trem-

bling uncontrollably.

She felt so used. She understood rationally that it had to be like that.

The war was larger than any one person. Even Luc, whether his family

legacy was real or not, was a figurehead, an idea greater than himself.

She knew that and she was willing to follow orders, knowing the

consequences, understanding the sacrifice. She didn't need any promises

of reward or acknowledgement or eternity; she would do what was nec-

essary because it was necessary. They knew that, and they had still lied

to her.

"I told Ilva that all I needed was more time," she said simply. "It was

just—abrupt. We'd been training. The bruises were from that."

Crowther said nothing, but she could feel him watching her like a

hawk. She could only wonder what he was noticing, dissecting her be-

haviour, organising all the details of his observations into a mental file.

Helena pressed her hand against her sternum, trying to make the

warmth from her palm seep into her, to speak calmly so that Crowther

would believe her, not write her off as hysterical.

"He was so upset afterwards that he told me everything. He started

crying after he told me about his mother. He always knew you were

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going to betray him. It was part of his plan. That's why he's kept climb-

ing rank; he figured the more important he was, the greater the blow—

when it happened."

There was a long silence after that.

Crowther gave a low sigh that sent Helena's heart skyrocketing.

"If he's such a suicidal martyr, why would he cooperate now?"

Her throat closed. Her fingers twisted at the loose fabric of her shirt.

"Well, now that he can't deny the obsession to himself, I don't think he

knows how to let go. Like you said, the Ferrons are self-destructively

possessive. The array made it worse. He regards me as—" She swal-

lowed. "—as his. I think that's what changed things. He still doesn't care

about survival, but he also doesn't know how to let go."

Crowther's lips pursed. He ran his thumb slowly against them, con-

sidering.

Helena watched him, twisting her fingers, squeezing until her

knuckles ground together. "Will you—will you tell Ilva. I know you

both think I'm compromised, but I did what I was told to. He said he'll

do whatever you want. I did it—I did— "

Her voice failed, and she started shaking uncontrollably. She gripped

her arm, using her resonance to force the valerian to take effect. Calm

down.

"Yes," Crowther said, "I'll speak with Ilva. You—did do as instructed."

He cleared his throat. "If he's prepared to prove himself, that changes

things."

Helena nodded, glancing blindly around the room, unable to feel

relief. "Thank you."

She started towards the door, although she wasn't sure where she was

going to go. She didn't think she was calm enough to return to Head-

quarters, but she couldn't stay there.

"Marino."

She winced. Crowther was still watching her. There was an odd look

in his eyes, like he was seeing more than she wanted him to.

He swallowed several times and pressed his fingertips together. "I

was about the same age you were when the Holdfasts brought me to

Paladia."

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588 • SenLinYu

Helena drew back. She knew that Crowther had been one of the

Holdfasts' sponsored students, but he'd been brought in as an orphan

after the Holdfasts had saved him. Helena had never considered their

experiences as similar.

"My family and village were murdered at the hands of a necroman-

cer. They crawled up from the ground and left me in the snow to die.

When the Eternal Flame came, there was no saving them, only lighting

the fires to erase the atrocities they'd become. I chose to distinguish

myself with my willingness to do what is necessary. Not for glory or for

the Faith, but because someone must do whatever it takes to stop the

rot. I've never regretted my choice."

He looked down at his right hand, slowly opening and closing it. It

was thinner than his other hand—the muscles had wasted over the

years.

He was silent for so long that Helena finally realised the speech was

meant as a sort of apology. That in some way he regarded them as alike,

and she had done something for him and now he regretted treating her

so poorly.

She didn't want an apology, though.

"Are you— " He blinked and started again. "Is there—healing you

require?"

Her spine went rigid. The last thing she wanted was Elain or Ivy

anywhere near her.

"He wasn't violent," she said sharply. She folded her arms tightly

around herself. Her voice was very tense, her throat refusing to relax. "It

was just— abrupt. Besides"— she let her voice grow venomous—"wasn't

healing myself part of your instructions from the very beginning?"

Crowther looked away. "If you need clearance for anything, I'll see

that it's signed off."

"I just came here to fix my hair and get a new shirt. I wasn't injured,"

she said growing angry at this sudden and belated attempt at concern.

They'd been so clear that she was alone in this, and now that the ruse

was finally up, now that it had come out that they hadn't really sold her

off, forever, without a second thought, they thought she'd want them to

care?

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A sick heat burned in the pit of her stomach.

"You should allow people to look out for you."

A harsh, sobbing laugh split her chest at the absurdity of his words.

His expression grew pinched. "There was no time to train you for the

assignment. We thought it best to let the deal run its course and—

collect the pieces afterwards. It made you more convincing."

A lump rose in her throat. "Well, he saw through you both. I was the

only fool in the end. But you got what you wanted. Lucky you, I guess."

"You— " He said it heavily and then paused.

"What?" she asked sharply, anger evaporating as panic closed around

her again.

Was it not enough? Was he trying to break it to her gently that Ilva

would still choose to kill Kaine? That the month had been a lie, too.

That there was nothing Kaine could do that was as valuable as betraying

him?

Crowther's eyebrows furrowed as he studied her. "I've spent a year

working on the logistics of replacing you . . . I must admit, you are the

most exceptional asset the Eternal Flame possesses. And I am sorry for

that."

Knowing now the Holdfasts' method of selecting their "prodigies,"

she did see the parallels between them: both brought to Paladia as tal-

ented children with nowhere else to go, their lives spent being lonely

and useful because it was all they knew.

Perhaps, looking at her as his successor, he did find her tragic.

Crowther went with Helena to the Outpost the next week.

After his brief interlude of humanity, Crowther had retreated back

into his shadows, and when he reemerged, he'd reverted to his normal

self. Still, Helena could feel how her place in his strategy had shifted

with the new developments.

She said nothing to him on the way there. They took a lorry as far as

the gate and then walked to the Outpost. It was startling how quick the

journey was when not taken on foot. There was a light, misting rain

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590 • SenLinYu

draped like a shroud over the city, frothing into a thick mist near the

dam.

The necrothralls on the Outpost faded into the rain when they

passed.

Kaine was waiting inside the tenement as though he'd never left. He

looked gaunt. Tired. He didn't meet her eyes. He barely even looked at

her. The cloths that had covered the floor had all been folded and lay in

a pile against one wall.

If Crowther had any reaction to the tenement, he didn't show it, but

Helena felt a visceral sense of discomfort as his eyes swept over the

room. She was used to it, but now she saw all the dirt, chipped paint,

and cracked tiles again. Remembered how degrading it had felt the first

time she'd arrived.

As he stood surveying the space, the air in the room grew tense. Like

a forest going abruptly silent.

Crowther had not seen combat in years, but Helena had healed

enough of his interrogation victims to know he had a talent for preci-

sion pyromancy, and now he had two hands to wield it with. She wasn't

sure about the extent of Kaine's abilities, but even the Undying strug-

gled against flame alchemists.

The feeling of hatred between Crowther and Kaine was so tangible,

the air sang with it.

Crowther was the one who spoke first, eyes glittering. "I understand

you wish to make a new deal with the Eternal Flame, Ferron."

There was mocking insinuation in his tone.

Kaine had gone startlingly pale. "So it would seem."

Helena had thought she was supposed to act as an intermediary be-

tween them, but Kaine glanced towards her.

"You can go now, Marino. I'm sure Crowther can find his way back

on his own."

Helena hesitated, looking between the two men.

Amusement lit Crowther's face as he glanced at Helena, too. "No

need to walk back alone. Wait outside, Marino. I'm sure Ferron won't let

anything happen to you on the landing."

The muscle in Kaine's jaw ticked, but he didn't speak.

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Helena looked between them and then turned reluctantly and went

out to the landing. She only heard Crowther utter one word before the

door sealed shut:

"Beg."

She wandered the hallway, peeking through the tenements missing

doors at the identical units. She followed the stairs to the top floor and

wandered back down.

The rain was falling through the broken skylight, creating a constant

drip and patter. As she reached the second floor, a glimpse of something

hidden in the shadows caught her attention.

She went closer, rising on her toes and squinting, trying to see clearly

what it was. It had been strategically concealed to make it almost invis-

ible in the shadows.

A human eye encased in glass stared down at her. When Helena

moved to the side, it rotated, following her.

A shiver ran down her spine. She hadn't even known that it was pos-

sible to animate only a part of a body, but it was undeniably animated.

Perfectly preserved. Angled to see the entire landing from the shadows.

That was how Kaine always knew when she was there.

She sat on the steps for half an hour before Crowther emerged from

the room. She knew he probably wouldn't tell her the terms, but she

hoped that after having her wait, he'd tell her something.

He merely paused, studying her. "Good work, Marino."

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CHAPTER 49

Februa 1787

The mood in Headquarters grew sombre as the winter crawled

on. The days felt endlessly dark, the air so cold and damp that even

quick walks across the commons were bone chilling.

After months of largely successful defence and fortification, the Re-

sistance was hit hard and sudden. One of the walls along the East Island

was blown up by a bomb blast so large, it took down several buildings.

Then more blasts, and before they'd even begun to evacuate the survi-

vors, the necrothralls and chimaeras poured in.

The Resistance lost a battalion and an entire swath of the East Is-

land.

Luc's battalion was trapped inside a building, pursued down to the

river level where they ended up cornered for more than a day until the

Resistance assembled a large enough force to get them out. The casual-

ties were terrible. Half of them were badly injured. One medic was

killed in the retreat, and another died from injuries during the siege.

Luc had held back the chimaeras and necrothralls by maintaining a wall

of flame for hours on end. He and Lila had been coated in smoke and

grime, too exhausted to even speak when they were brought back. Soren

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Alchemised • 593

sustained a shattered right arm when the floor collapsed under him and

several others. He'd been held back from defence during the siege, car-

ing for the others injured and watching them die one by one.

He refused to talk about it.

Before Helena could return to the Outpost, Crowther informed

her that she would see Kaine only once a week now. No explanation

about why; those were simply the new terms of the deal. When Marti-

day came, she didn't know what to expect, how different things might

be, but when Kaine arrived, he wordlessly kicked the padding cloths

across the floor and began training her as if nothing had changed, ex-

cept he didn't look at her anymore. His eyes seemed to go through her.

"How do you know all this?" she asked when he paused in attacking

her to show her several techniques for breaking arms in ways that would

shatter the bone or pierce the skin, slowing regeneration.

"The same way I know any of it," he said, staring across the room.

"When you can't die, people keep hurting you until you can hurt them

more."

"I'm sorry."

He looked at her sharply, fury in his eyes. "I'm sure you are."

There was no more conversation. He attacked and she had to fend

him off. She managed to get a jab in under his arm but experienced only

a moment of triumph before his fingers were wrapped around her

throat, dragging her close.

They both froze, eyes meeting, and it was as if time stopped.

He snatched his hand back with a scathing glare. "Unless you start

thinking faster than you move, you're going to be killed."

She failed twice more.

"That's enough for today." He finally turned away from her, reaching

into his cloak, and pulled out an envelope, setting it on the table.

Helena's chest clenched in dread as she went over to her satchel and

pulled out an envelope of her own, fidgeting with it as she turned to face

him.

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594 • SenLinYu

"Crowther said to give you this."

A sort of deadness filled his eyes as he looked over. "Right . . . My

orders for the week."

He pulled it from her fingers with a listless jerk.

"Kaine— "

"Run along, Marino. I have work to do."

It was Helena's job to examine Luc to ensure he was healthy before

he was allowed to leave Headquarters. He was still so shattered he

scarcely seemed to notice her, which was for the best, as they hadn't

spoken since the solstice.

He and Lila watched each other with a fervent intensity, as though

the other person were their only touchstone.

If it were possible, Helena would have recommended a break—a few

weeks to recuperate at least. Luc was dangerously haggard, and his lungs

worried her, but they could not afford the luxury. Both were dispatched

back to the front in their newly polished armour to reassure the now

nervous battalions.

Soren was only a few days behind them.

Each week Kaine would train her for half an hour, hand over intel-

ligence reports, take his orders, and leave without even a backwards

glance.

They didn't talk anymore. If she asked questions and it wasn't about

combat, he ignored them. It felt as if there were a canyon between them

now.

It was fine, though. He was alive. Every week she got to see him and

know he was alive.

However, that was not something he seemed to care about. There

was a raw despair visible in his eyes. Even his rage was smothered, as

though he were existing out of sheer obligation.

After three weeks, she caught him by the wrist as he was taking

Crowther's envelope from her. "Please—look at me."

He snatched his hand back but then stared squarely at her, that cold

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Alchemised • 595

rage briefly reappearing. "Is this not enough for you? Is there something

else you want too?"

"No— " She looked at him helplessly. "I'm sorry. I thought—"

He gave a dry laugh. "Perhaps someday, if I have time again, I can

make you a list of all the things that apologies don't fix."

Her hands dropped. "Kaine, I—"

"Don't—use my name. I hate the way it sounds on your tongue." He

ripped the envelope from her fingers and left.

There was another deluge of injuries. Helena could barely keep track

of all the battles and skirmishes, the victories and losses. In the hospital

it all blurred together into endless screaming. Time seemed to morph

into a horrific monotony, punctuated only with Kaine's cold resentment.

She tried to stay busy. With Rhea's permission, she tried a tentative

treatment of Titus, but he reacted poorly, becoming severely sick with a

fever, putting an immediate end to the attempt.

She felt cut loose. Left to her own devices. Everyone else seemed to

come and go—even the other healers got dispatched down- island to

the new hospital every few weeks—but Helena was always at Head-

quarters.

Ilva and Crowther no longer made any demands of her except to

pass on their orders.

She was a collar around Kaine's neck, and her job now was to bear it.

She was returning from the Outpost when her hospital charm

grew hot. She sprinted the rest of the way back. There was blood smeared

across the ground of the gatehouse.

The guards were waiting for her. "Where were you?"

"Who? What—" she gasped out as they cleared her.

"Lila," said one of the young guards. "And Soren."

Dread flooded through her like poison. "Where's Luc—"

There was a pause and she knew before the older guard spoke.

"Missing."

Helena's body moved but her mind had stalled as she raced to the

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596 • SenLinYu

hospital.

No. This couldn't be happening.

The casualty ward was in a frenzy as Helena entered. Elain immedi-

ately turned on Helena, her hands covered in blood, her face white with

panic.

"My resonance doesn't work!" she said, her voice rising with panic. "I

can't stop the bleeding."

Lila was laid out of a bed, covered in dust and dirt and blood. The

remains of her armour were smashed and split, her clothes shredded, as

if she'd been caught in an explosion. Nurses were cutting off the straps

and transmuting her armour to get it off her. A wide gouge ran down

her face, from temple to cheek, and below that, at the base of her neck,

a large puncture was pouring blood.

"I don't know what's wrong!" Elain was saying as Helena washed her

hands under scalding water and doused them in carbolic dilution. "I

think there's something inside her, but my resonance doesn't work!

When I try to feel her, it's like—my hands— "

"Soren too? Or just Lila?"

"I don't know, I haven't tried him. We just got them in. She's bleed-

ing out, and I can't feel anything!"

"Check Soren," Helena said. "I need medics for Lila, and Pace. Tell

her I need her now."

She moved next to Lila. The neck was one of the few openings in her

armour if her helmet had been off. Her blood was soaking the bed.

She'd been hooked up to an intravenous drip with plasma expanders,

but it wouldn't do any good if they couldn't get her to stop bleeding.

Lila's head was lolled back. She was still conscious, muttering under

her breath, over and over. ". . . told him—to run. I—told him—t- to

run— "

Helena reached out with her resonance and felt the horribly familiar

disruption of nullium.

She'd hoped to be wrong. That Elain was just hysterical. Or even

burned out.

Anything but this.

The nullium was much stronger than the shrapnel Helena had re-

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Alchemised • 597

trieved from Kaine. Altered in some way to intensify the effect.

She tried to at least get a vague sense of the size of what had been

driven into Lila's chest cavity. Trying to determine if there was a risk of

puncturing her heart if they put pressure on the wound. It was like

peering through fog. Her hands felt as though they were asleep, needle-

points pricking across her nerves as she tried to search for the most in-

tense sense of dissonance.

It was long and slender. It had likely pierced her lung, possibly grazed

her heart, but it was hard to tell.

This was so much worse than she and Shiseo had been prepared for.

"What is it?" Pace appeared at her side.

Helena was pressing gauze over the wound, trying to keep it from

bleeding more. Lila had gone silent.

"It's nullium. She's going to need manual surgery to get it out. Maier

isn't trained, but you were in the hospitals, back when they still used it,

right?"

Pace went very white. "It's been a long time. I only assisted."

Helena drew a harsh breath. She couldn't disclose her own surgical

experience with nullium. "I—used to help my father, sometimes. If

you'll lead, and I keep her stable, then maybe. Is Soren—?"

She was afraid to know if Soren had nullium injuries. If she and Pace

had to choose which twin to save, protocol dictated that the person with

better odds of survival should receive priority, but as paladin primary,

Lila had priority.

"The others can heal him," Pace said. "He took a bad blow to the

head, but it's nothing Elain can't manage."

Helena closed her eyes as she fought to stay calm, trying to will Lila

to survive, because this time she could not make her do it.

"Move her into the operating theatre," Pace said. "I'm sure Maier

will help as much as he can. We'll need medics and nurses for support.

I'll brief them. You keep her stable."

It had only been a handful of times that Helena assisted her father

with surgery. Before the massacre.

Observant with a good head in a crisis, he'd said. But that was a long

time ago.

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598 • SenLinYu

Handing over surgical instruments was very different from perform-

ing surgery without resonance. No one was prepared. The nullium they'd

been familiar with only interfered when they worked with it directly.

This was much more diffuse.

When Lila was sedated, Matron Pace used a long pair of clamps to

reach into the puncture just above Lila's collarbone and pull out a long,

rusting spike. It was fragile, degrading already due to the unstable fu-

sion. Shards kept breaking off, forcing Pace to reach in over and over,

removing them piece by piece.

Helena could feel through her resonance that even with the bulk of

the spike removed, there were shards dissolving into Lila's blood. The

nullium was spreading through her body like a fog, thicker and more

impenetrable with every passing moment.

The fragility of the nullium was both a gift and curse. It had taken

the path of least resistance. There was a small puncture in Lila's lung, but

her heart was not damaged, nor her oesophagus. It had stayed within

the cavity. But the pieces were everywhere, and the alloy was so unstable

that it was rapidly dissolving.

Pace wiped her forehead with a cloth. "We're going to need to do a

thoracotomy to get the pieces out. Is she stable enough?"

An alchemical surgeon like Maier could normally perform a thora-

cotomy without needing to open a patient. It only needed incisions

large enough to get slender tools inside; with training and resonance,

their instruments were an extension of their fingers and senses.

Helena held back her resonance, using ordinary touch to check Lila's

vital signs because it was easier than trying to parse all the interference.

"She's holding on."

They made an incision between Lila's ribs, using makeshift retractors

to pry the bones apart so they could reach all the remaining shards. The

pieces varied in size and crumbled if they weren't picked out carefully

enough. There were little cuts and grooves in Lila's lungs and heart

where shards had nicked her—wounds that could be easily repaired if

Helena could use her resonance but were laborious and dangerous now,

each requiring manual sutures.

The procedure was all unfamiliar, and they were racing against time.

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Alchemised • 599

The longer the nullium had to break down and distribute into Lila's

blood, the greater the likelihood that she might die from the metal tox-

icity. The surgery was pushing her body to its outer limits, and Lila had

to survive on her own.

Helena kept manually siphoning blood, keeping Lila's heart beating

as Pace worked. A nurse had taken the larger shards to Shiseo to analyse

and synthesise the sequestering agent, but that treatment was hours

away.

It was possible that until they managed to purge the metal from

Lila's bloodstream, they would be unable to use any kind of resonance

on her.

"A thoracic lavage next," Pace said at last, setting down her tools. Her

eyes were bloodshot from strain by the time they finished.

Maier took over the sutures. His stitches were beautifully neat, but

he looked shaken as he worked.

Helena looked up and found it was growing dark outside. "I should

check on Soren."

She felt so strange as she washed her hands. She'd barely used her

resonance, but the pressure of the last several hours had her head throb-

bing. Stepping out of the operating theatre, she found most of the hos-

pital crowded around one bed.

Soren was awake and propped up. All the privacy curtains had been

pushed aside, and at the forefront of the people surrounding him was

Ilva.

Soren's arm was in splints, and bandages covered half his face. He

kept shaking his head. "I don't—remember. It happened so fast."

"Did you recognise anyone? Even imagine that you saw a face?" Ilva

said, grasping Soren's wrist.

"I don't know," Soren said again, his voice straining. "There was—an

explosion. Something hit me. Might have been out seconds or minutes.

When I got up, I couldn't see. Luc was gone, and Lila was on the ground,

bleeding out. She kept saying, Told him to run. I didn't know where to

look— so I came back."

"There was no warning?" The questions seemed to be exploding from

Ilva. She was visibly agitated. "No signs at all? Who was leading the

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600 • SenLinYu

unit?"

"I—" Soren's expression twisted, and he seemed to struggle to re-

member.

"I always said it was a mistake, allowing a female paladin," Matias

said. "If I had been Falcon at the time, I would never have allowed such

a violation of tradition to be entertained. I warned you, Ilva, Luc was

partial to her, but no: Lila Bayard was too exceptional to separate from

him. Now look what's happened."

"Shut your mouth!" Ilva snarled over her shoulder at Matias, her

fingers still digging into Soren's wrist. Then she turned back and shook

him. "Did she say Luc surrendered himself ? Did he hand himself over

because of Lila?"

"I don't know," Soren half whispered.

Elain was standing near Soren's bed, too awed by the number of

Eternal Flame members currently flanking the bed to interfere.

"Pardon," Helena said in a curt voice, and she pushed herself through

the crowd. "Soren Bayard has a head injury. It's inadvisable to stress

him."

Everyone turned to look at her.

"Is Lila awake? Can she answer questions?" Ilva said, instantly rising

to her feet.

Helena shook her head sharply. "She is not available for anything.

We performed an extensive manual surgery to remove a spike of nul-

lium that she's been stabbed with, but the alloy deteriorated and distrib-

uted through her bloodstream, which will interfere with anything

involving resonance until it's removed."

"How long will that take?" The panic on Ilva's face was clear.

Helena shook her head. "We have her under anaesthesia right now,

but we're working blind. She may wake in the next few hours, or it could

take days. Lila is very strong, but this will still be harder on her than past

injuries. Nothing's certain yet."

Soren had slumped back and looked as if he was on the verge of a

panic attack, but Ilva drew herself up like a viper.

"I thought you had prepared for this eventuality," Ilva said, "What

have you all been doing?"

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Alchemised • 601

Helena's jaw tensed. Why was it always the hospital's fault when

things went wrong? If Helena had come out and said that surgery was

a success and Lila was already getting out of bed, they'd all be off the

perihelion to offer Sol flames of thanksgiving. But bad news was always

the hospital's fault.

How nice it must be, to be a god.

"The alloy has been altered, and the interference is much more in-

tense. Manual procedures are not simple, especially in a hospital where

only two people have any experience performing them. If you want the

hospital prepared to perform manual surgery, the Falcon will need to

approve the cadavers for practice, as we requested several months ago."

Matias coughed as if he'd swallowed something the wrong way and

suddenly stopped looking like he wanted to be present.

Ilva was gripping her cane but looked ready to topple. It was as if

Luc's loss had ripped the ground out from beneath her.

"Examine him then," Ilva said, moving unsteadily away from Soren's

bed. "There will be a Council meeting in an hour. I want full reports on

both the Bayards."

Everyone filed out. Helena glared and jerked her head, indicating

that Elain put the privacy curtains back as she sat down next to Soren.

He was leaning back amid the pillows which had propped him up,

covered in newly healed cuts. She could tell, as soon as her resonance

touched him, that he'd lost his right eye. Whatever had hit him had

fractured the socket and crushed it.

Her fingers trembled.

"She's never going to forgive me," he said, his voice a near whisper.

Helena didn't know if he was referring to Ilva or Lila.

She squeezed his hand. "If you'd gone after Luc in this state, all three

of you might be dead. That wouldn't have been any help. I'm sure there's

more people looking for him because you came back."

Elain had done well with her healing. He'd had several broken bones,

including the same arm he'd just shattered a few weeks ago. It hadn't

fully healed, and it was likely to have lingering issues now.

"Do you think he's still alive?" Soren asked.

Helena's heart caught. She couldn't think of any reason the Undying

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602 • SenLinYu

wouldn't immediately kill Luc.

"Until we know he's dead, he's still alive. And we're going to get him

back," she said, forcing her voice to sound hopeful. "Stop worrying now.

I need to check your head."

He had a concussion, but his eye and brow bone had absorbed most

of the blow. All her visits to Titus had made her more familiar with

brains, she felt as if she understood them better and could at least diag-

nose accurately, rather than shying away.

Elain hadn't known what to do with the destroyed eye and had left

it, just wrapping gauze over it and repairing only the bone.

"Soren, your right eye's—"

"I know," he said brusquely, as if it didn't matter. "I can still fight,

though, right?"

Her hands stilled. "You've broken your arm and lost half your range

of vision. That's going to require adapting. You're going to be vulnerable.

You won't see things from the right."

"I'll just turn my head," he said in a flat voice. "Handy thing, necks."

She sighed. "You're not going back out. Not for weeks at least."

He shook his head. "Lila's out. I have to bring Luc back before she

wakes. She can't wake up and find out I didn't get him back." His chin

trembled. In twelve years of knowing him, Helena had never seen Soren

cry. He looked down. "I didn't tell them, but she told me to leave her. To

go find him, but I didn't. I told her I'd go, as soon as I got her safe—"

He started trying to get up from the bed. It only took one hand to

push him back. He was barely strong enough to sit up.

"Soren, I need to deal with the ruptured tissue in your eye," she said,

trying to sound firm.

He ignored her, trying to shove her off, but she was adept enough at

combat now. She deflected his hand and slipped her fingers behind his

head. It took only a frisson of resonance and his remaining eye rolled

back as he collapsed, unconscious.

She closed his eye gently so it wouldn't dry out. "I'm so sorry," she

whispered as she set to work.

If there was anything intact inside the socket, there would have been

a small chance of saving some of his sight, but Soren's eye was wrecked.

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Alchemised • 603

She removed all the tissue that couldn't be repaired so that it wouldn't

rot or cause infection, then carefully rebandaged him. In a few weeks,

someone would make a beautiful glass eye for him, or perhaps shape a

gem.

Assuming there still was a Resistance in a few weeks.

Rhea arrived just as Helena finished.

It had been a long time since both twins had been in the hospital.

Rhea's expression was stoic, but her eyes were searching as she moved

towards Soren.

Helena stood up. "I just finished. I can wake him," she said, quickly

covering all the eye tissue with a cloth.

"No, let him rest." Rhea sat down slowly on the edge of the bed,

studying the parts of Soren's face that weren't obscured. "My little boy,"

she said softly, her voice a murmur, as if she feared Soren might wake.

Helena stepped back, not sure if Rhea would want privacy or an-

swers.

"You know, he was such a little thing when he was born," Rhea said,

one of her hands reaching and covering Soren's. "Titus could fit him

into one hand. The doctors didn't think he'd make it. Lila came out

bright red and screaming, but my little Soren was just a wisp of a baby.

Quiet and pale. Even when he needed to nurse, he'd barely make a

sound. He always followed Lila around, never caused trouble himself,

but was always right there, getting into hers."

Rhea gave a sobbing laugh. "I thought I was doing such a great thing

when they were born. Twins. Two babies for the Bayard family. Our

little paladins." Rhea's body trembled as she held Soren's hand. "And

now Titus doesn't even know what's been done to our beautiful

children— all my family, I only have pieces of them left."

She folded over Soren. Her body was shuddering, but she cried si-

lently.

There was a trick to sobbing like that; it was something a person had

to learn to do.

Helena slipped away, to give her space to grieve.

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604 • SenLinYu

The meeting was sombre. Ilva sat at the Council table, looking al-

most drugged while the reports were being given. The attack had oc-

curred on the lower part of the East Island. Luc and Lila had been

leading the battalion towards Headquarters; they'd passed a condemned

building, and just as Luc and Lila stepped beyond it, there had been an

explosion. The building had collapsed.

Soren had been on the edge of the blast and thrown by it. Only two

others had survived, because they'd fallen behind. They'd been caught in

the rubble with only minor injuries.

There'd been signs of a fight, char marks and a pool of blood, pre-

sumed to be Lila's. Burned human remains, presumed to be necrothralls,

a lich with his talisman ripped out. Luc's sword, rings, and other weap-

ons were found discarded, as if he'd left first and then been stripped.

There'd been no word from the Undying. No proclamation that Luc

was dead or even captured. The guards had all been told to prepare for

the possibility that he might return reanimated or with his body pos-

sessed by a lich. If Luc reappeared, all due diligence must be performed.

No one was to believe in any miraculous escapes.

As time passed, the questions grew. Why would the Undying keep

him alive? Wouldn't they announce if he was dead, or were they were

keeping him hostage to negotiate a surrender?

If he was hostage, why hadn't they reached out?

"Until we know that Lucien is dead, we will assume that he is alive,"

Ilva said in an icy voice, rousing herself when one of the lead metallur-

gists referred to planning for contingencies. "The Undying have no rea-

son to conceal his capture. It's been twelve hours, and we haven't received

word. It may be a sign that not everything is as it seems."

As the meeting closed, Matias stood announcing his intention to

entreat the heavens to return Luc to them safely. Many people followed

him.

Ilva remained at the table, speaking to Crowther.

"Marino, a word before you go," Ilva said when Helena rose to return

to the hospital.

Helena waited until the room was empty. Ilva flicked a hand, and the

guards closed the doors.

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Alchemised • 605

"You'll head to the Outpost. We're going to use Ferron," Ilva said in

a brusque voice. "Every piece of information he has or can obtain about

the circumstances of Luc's capture—I want it all. As well as an explana-

tion as to why we received no warning about this."

"Of course." She'd expected as much.

"Tell him this is a critical mission," Ilva added as Helena turned to

go. "Those precise words, Marino. A top priority. If he has an opportu-

nity to get Luc back for us, that would be preferable to the losses we'll

suffer with a rescue."

They meant to sacrifice Kaine to recover Luc. It was the obvious

choice. An easy trade-off. The kind that any strategist would make.

But—

"All right." Her voice was lifeless.

Lumithia hung like a giant silver disk in the sky, so near full Ascen-

dance that she blotted out the planets, leaving the night sky as an end-

less black abyss overhead. The bright silver light cast glaring shadows

across the city.

When Helena reached the landing in the tenement, she paused and

stepped intentionally into the silver shaft of light cascading from the

broken skylight, looking up at the eye hidden in the corner. Then she

waited.

It was a long wait.

The windows rattled in the wind, but she didn't hear anything until

the door clicked and Kaine strode in. Everything about him seemed—

sharper. "What happened?"

The instant he asked the question, she realised he didn't know.

Ilva had been right: If the Undying had Luc, it was being kept secret.

"There was an attack today. A bombing," she said, and her voice

trembled. "Killed most of a battalion, the Bayard twins barely survived,

and Luc—is missing."

"Are you sure?"

She gave a stiff nod. "They used a weapon made from that resonance

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606 • SenLinYu

interference alloy. We call it nullium. Lila was stabbed and nearly killed

with it. You didn't know this was in the works?"

He shook his head slowly. "I didn't. There's suspicion of a spy due

to—recent sabotage. And I haven't had the leisure to be as present as I

used to be."

She looked down, drawing a deep breath before she spoke. "We have

to get Luc back. I was told to tell you it's critical. Your top priority."

"Right . . ."

"Any information you can get on his capture, who did it, where he is,

if he's alive . . . The Council wants you—" Her words caught. "—to do

anything you can."

"Of course," was all he said, and he turned to go.

She watched his back, the shift of his shoulders, one dipping as he

reached the knob. She didn't know if she was ever going to see him

again.

"Wait," she said.

He paused but didn't look back. "I'll call you when I have some-

thing," was all he said.

"Kaine . . . when I kissed you, I—"

He turned suddenly. In one moment he was across the room and in

the next, he was in front of her, his expression venomous, his teeth

bared. "Really, you want to discuss this now?"

Her throat was so thick with guilt, she could barely speak. But she

was desperate. "Will you look at me, at least?"

A cruel glint entered his eyes as they locked squarely on her face. It

was like being punched to have his full attention again.

"You want me to look at you?" His voice was light, almost cajoling,

but there was fury beneath the surface. He leaned towards her. "Fine.

I'm looking. I must say, it's delightful, seeing all the guilt in your eyes."

He sneered, drawing back. "You know, I used to think the circum-

stances of my servitude to the High Necromancer as cruel an enslave-

ment as anyone could conceive, but I must admit, it pales beside you."

He tilted his head. "At least before, I could console myself that it

wasn't my fault; acceptance was the best I could do to keep my mother

safe. It's different when I have no one to blame but myself."

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Alchemised • 607

His hand came up, his gloved fingers wrapping around her throat,

pulling her forward. "After all, I did choose you."

She met his eyes, that deadened despair so visible when he looked at

her.

"I envied your naïveté, how you credited me with goodness and

failed to realise that it was a setup from the very beginning. When you

begged for a chance to heal me, I gave in. When you touched me, I

didn't push you away. I thought, Where's the harm? It all ends soon enough,

and life has been cold for such a long time."

She didn't realise she'd started crying until his thumb brushed across

her cheek.

"By the time I realised I'd miscalculated, you'd already forced your

way in. You were so obvious, but that only made it worse; knowing you'd

let me do anything to you in the hope it would save everyone else, even

the people who'd sold you in the first place. At least when I sold my soul,

my mother prostrated herself, begging to take my place. I suppose, in

some regards, I am luckier than you."

She gave a low sob.

"After you nearly bled to death here, I thought, at least I can keep her

alive. She deserves to have someone who cares enough to try to keep her

alive. I thought eventually you'd give up. But you will do anything to

save the people you feel responsible for. Of course you'd weaponise your

guilt in order to use mine." He gave a low bitter laugh. "I'm sure there's

something poetic in it all, but right now all I feel is a new set of mana-

cles."

He let go and stepped away from her, heading for the door. "So for-

give me if I dislike looking at you. I'm still adjusting to the ways these

new ones chafe."

Soren was sitting next to Lila when Helena returned to the hospi-

tal, heart dead in her chest.

In her absence, nothing had happened except meetings and argu-

ments in which no one agreed about what to do. Helena had known it

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608 • SenLinYu

was Luc who held everything together, but it was startling to see how

fast it all crumbled.

Lila's hair was cropped short like a boy's, the area near the wound

was shaven. Her face was so swollen and bruised she was almost unrec-

ognisable. Maier's careful sutures had tried to rejoin the torn skin, but

that scar would stay with her for the rest of her life.

"She's younger than me, you know," Soren said. Helena nodded. "No

one ever guesses that."

He leaned forward and whispered something in Lila's ear, his voice

so low Helena couldn't make out the words. Then he straightened, walk-

ing out.

Helena followed him. The hollow under his remaining eye looked

like a crater. His face was drawn, pain lines visible around his mouth

and the corner of his eye. Someone had removed his cast already. Elain.

"Come on," she said, taking him into a curtained-off area and mak-

ing him sit down.

She worked on his arm and hand first. The bone had been mended

well, but it was a new injury, which made it more at risk of being broken

again. She knew he wasn't going to be careful. He'd be out in the field

as soon as there was word. The best she could do was heal as far as she

could, imitating the way Kaine's body regenerated, not merely to "fixed"

but all the way back to its prior state.

"I need your help," he said as she placed new gauze over his eye and

wrapped it.

Her hands stilled. "For what?"

"I need a healer, and you're the best."

She drew back, tilting his head to study his face even though his

expressions were always evasive. "Soren, what have you done?"

He raised his eyebrow. "Nothing . . . yet." A helpless smile just barely

touched the edge of his lips. "You have to promise to help first before I

can tell."

Helena hesitated. With Luc or Lila around, Soren had never needed

to create his own trouble. He was, Lila once joked, like a cat, feigning

indifference but somehow always in the same room with you.

Soren alone was a mystery. She didn't know what he might do when

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Alchemised • 609

all the choices were his to make.

"All right. I promise. Tell me."

"Not here," he said, standing up.

They left Headquarters, wound through several alleys, and entered

an abandoned shop.

"I got a healer," he said as they entered the back room, his hand on

Helena's back to push her through the door as if she might bolt other-

wise. Which she might have, given how clearly planned her presence

was.

Waiting there, fully armed, stood the two remaining members of

Luc's unit, Alister and Penny, as well as Sebastian and Crowther's infor-

mant from the hospital, Purnell, who carefully avoided Helena's eyes.

"Marino?" said Alister. "I thought you were getting a medic."

"A medic's not good enough," Soren said as he walked up to the table

in the centre of the room. Helena hung back. "We need a healer. Hele-

na's the best."

"Maybe . . ." Alister said, dubiously, "but she's never been in combat.

She'll be deadweight in a fight. Same as this one." He pointed at Pur-

nell. "You're going get us all killed if we don't get this perfect."

"We don't need her to fight. We can fight. The thing none of us can

do is make sure we can get Luc out alive. Hel's the best bet for that. We

don't know what kind of condition he's going to be in when we find

him. She can fix anything."

Helena wasn't sure she appreciated the degree of confidence Soren

was placing in her.

"Have you ever been to the front?" Alister was staring at her.

"No."

"This is insane," Alister said. "I'd follow you anywhere, Soren, but

this is not a good plan. What if Luc's in a bad way, and all we have is

her; is she going to carry him out?"

"I'll help!" Purnell spoke up abruptly. "After I show you the way, I can

help with Luc. I'm good in the hospital."

"Soren." Helena's voice was tight. "Can I talk to you?" She dragged

him back outside. "What are you doing?"

"We're getting Luc back," he said.

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610 • SenLinYu

"Yes, I've gathered that," she said, shaking him, not caring that he

was injured, because he was about to go commit suicide. "You're barely

recovered. Why is Purnell here?"

"Sofia?"

Since when was Soren on a first-name basis with a hospital orderly?

"Yes, the orderly. Do you know who she is?"

"She's the one who knows where Luc might be."

Helena stared stunned as it dawned on her why Purnell was there.

This had Crowther's fingerprints all over it. This wasn't Soren's rescue,

this was Crowther, pulling the strings once again.

But then, what was he planning to do with Kaine? Was Kaine a dis-

traction? Or was this because Crowther hoped to avoid losing Kaine

prematurely?

Helena's molars ground together.

"And how would she know that?" she asked, trying to get Soren to

see how insane this all was.

Soren gave a tight smile. "Crowther uses her to keep an eye on us,

but she doesn't like it. She came clean with Luc a while back. She's seen

maps for a secret prison that can be accessed from the West Island's

waterways."

"Soren," Helena exhaled, closing her eyes. "Why would she have

seen maps like that?"

Soren shrugged, not seeming concerned about it. "Crowther uses her

for carrying messages. I guess she peeked."

If Crowther was the mastermind behind this, Helena wanted him

directly involved, giving clear instructions about how he thought it was

going to work, not some shadowy an orderly saw a map sleight of hand.

She was sick of how Ilva and Crowther both defaulted to manipula-

tion to get their "miracles" to show up. As if people couldn't be counted

on unless they were tricked.

"If that's the case, then that means Crowther knows about this

prison, and he might have a lot more information than just a map. We

should talk to him."

Soren immediately shook his head. "No. The Council is adamant

that no one can take any action until they 'know' who has Luc. Ilva

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Alchemised • 611

somehow thinks she's going to negotiate a trade to get Luc back. No

mention, though, of what she possibly thinks we could offer."

Helena knew exactly what it was that Ilva probably had in mind.

"My duty is to Luc," Soren was saying, "not the Eternal Flame. As

long as Lila's out, I'm primary. The Council doesn't command me, my

duty is to my vows and my vows are to Luc."

She'd thought they wanted Kaine to rescue Luc—to risk his cover to

spare their own troops. But if that failed, Ilva would sell him out with-

out a second thought.

Which meant Crowther was being forced to go behind Ilva's back.

That was why he was using Sofia Purnell to pass the relevant informa-

tion to Soren, the one person with an ability to act on his own.

"All right," Helena said, nodding. "I'll come."

Soren looked startled, then sagged with relief. "Good. I don't think I

can do this without you."

Helena scrutinised him. "What do you mean?"

His eyes were heavy-lidded. When he was pensive, they got soulful.

Now there was just one, but she still recognised the expression.

"I need you to do anything, Hel, whatever it takes, to save him. No

matter the price. Anyone in the Resistance would die for him; I need

you there because it might take more than that."

Her eyes went wide. "Do you realise what you're asking?"

He held his head high. "My vow is to protect my Principate with my

life and my death. You're the one who said that if someone's willing to

die, why not give them a chance to keep fighting."

Her hands had gone numb. "You can't volunteer the others for a mis-

sion like that. Are you planning to tell them that's why I'm here? That

you chose me because you want necromancy as your backup plan?" Her voice

dropped to a furious whisper as she retreated, but he caught her by the

arm.

"That's not the only reason," he said. "You are the best. I'm not vol-

unteering them, just me. If something goes wrong, you do anything you

have to to get them out. This is me giving you permission."

She shook her head. "I don't even know if I can. I've never—"

"We both know that if someone can do vivimancy, they can do nec-

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612 • SenLinYu

romancy. And if there's anyone who can figure it out on the fly, it's you.

I'm not going to do anything stupid. I just—" He swallowed. "I need to

know this is going to work. Hel, this has to work."

She wavered a moment longer, but what were the alternatives? Every

choice had become unbearable. And this was the price she'd already of-

fered to pay.

"Fine." She swallowed. "For Luc."

"For Luc. Come on."

Helena wanted very much to corner Purnell and interrogate her

about exactly what Crowther knew, and how he expected the mission to

unfold, but Purnell was constantly in motion, moving around the room,

staying out of reach.

"How do you know all this?" Helena asked pointedly, after she was

told about the location of the prison and how there was a floodwater

cathedral that they would use to reach it.

"I know people who use them. The scouts—and others, when they

need escape routes and safe places to go," Purnell said.

"Why aren't they more patrolled?"

Purnell shrugged. "It's a maze. The greys can't see in the dark, or they

get lost, and the Undying don't like crawling in sewer water."

Helena's own throat convulsed at the thought. "I see."

"It won't be bad, though. It's flood season now," Purnell said. "The

water will mostly be mountain water. It'll be cold, but nothing like it is

in the summer."

Small mercies. Helena was well acquainted with how cold the river

snowmelt was; the mere thought of crawling through it was enough to

make her bones ache. "And these tunnels are connected to where Luc

is?"

Purnell was avoiding Helena's eyes again. "A lot of old access points

to the sewers were built over, but they're easy to reopen if you have the

building schematics. Someone investigated it a few months ago. It's

very high-level compared with the other prisons, but almost completely

empty. Like it's being reserved for something."

"If Luc's there, then this means his capture is something they've

been working towards for a long time," Sebastian said in a tight voice.

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Alchemised • 613

Fear sliced down Helena's spine. "Why are you so sure Luc's there?"

"If it's a secret they have him, they'd have to put him in a secret

place," was all Purnell said.

Helena couldn't help but feel that the girl's involvement had already

destroyed Crowther's chance at plausible deniability. Surely he could

afford to be less opaque.

"If he's not there, no one will even know we went in," Soren said.

"We have to go tonight. Ascendance is tomorrow; the floodwaters are

already high enough, and none of us will be clearheaded enough to go.

We'd have to wait two more days, and Luc can't afford that."

Helena hadn't considered that aspect. They captured Luc just before

Ascendance. Why? Just to increase to complexity of rescue efforts? Or

was it a coincidence?

The plan was only the vaguest shape of a plan. Get in, find Luc, get

out.

Helena's job was to keep Purnell close and out of the way. The others

would deal with any fighting. When they found Luc, she'd examine

him, make sure he was still alive, and, if necessary, heal him as rapidly as

possible. Then she would get him out. Purnell would help her carry him

if he couldn't walk on his own.

Helena's job was getting him back to the East Island by any means

possible. If she had to leave everyone else behind, she was to do that.

Once Luc was safe, the others would scatter and regroup.

"Let's go," Soren said, pulling on his armour as Alister and Penny

snapped to attention.

"Wait!" Helena said, fighting to keep her voice steady, overwhelmed

with the feeling that the plan was wrong. "I need to get my medical kit."

Soren's eye narrowed with suspicion. "Don't you just use your hands?"

She shook her head. "No. If Luc's really hurt, there's elixirs and

salves, restoratives that will make him recover faster. Relying on vivi-

mancy would—drain him or me. If I have my medicines, we'll have a

better chance of him making it out if he's badly hurt."

Soren relaxed marginally. "All right. Go fast. If you don't come back

in fifteen minutes, we'll leave without you."

She ran out the door, straight to Headquarters and the Alchemy

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614 • SenLinYu

Tower. The lift had never felt so slow as it cranked upwards.

"Please be there, Shiseo," she prayed as the doors opened and she

hurried to her lab, beginning to doubt whether she was making the

right decision.

Shiseo was there, synthesising chelators when she burst in.

"I need your help," she said as she rushed to her satchel. She went to

the cabinet filled with all her medicine and snatched up vial after vial,

enough doses for everyone twice. She found needles, bandages, manual

medical tools, then packed everything she could into waxed, water-

sealed bags and put all of it into her satchel until it was full to bursting.

Then she opened a small drawer that held her knives and started

strapping them on.

"You got the titanium-nickel," Shiseo said, watching the knives

mould against her skin. "May I see them?"

"Not now," she said, pulling the satchel over her head and buckling

the extra strap to her waist so she could run with it. "I need you to do

something for me. I can't tell you all the details, but I don't have anyone

else to turn to."

She snatched up a piece of paper and started scribbling notes. Ev-

erything she knew, all the relevant details. Location. Strategy. Exit.

Written out plainly, it was obvious there was no way it would work,

but she didn't know what else she could do but go along with it.

She looked up. "Do you know the way to the old factory Outpost?"

Shiseo nodded. "Yes. I visited when it was operational."

She nodded shakily. "I need you to go there, as quickly as you can.

It's—enemy territory, but if you see a necrothrall, say 'Helena sent me'

and they should leave you alone. Take this route." She sketched it

roughly on a slip of paper. "You'll find a tenement building with the iron

symbol on it. On the second floor there's a door. Shove this under the

door and then go back. Or—if you don't want to do any of that, give this

to Ilva. I can't—I don't know how to make this choice."

She held the paper out.

Shiseo looked from her to the paper, an odd gleam of interest in his

dark eyes. "I always knew you were very interesting."

"I have to go," she said.

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Alchemised • 615

He took the paper, and she turned and ran, not waiting to see which

choice he made. She kept running.

Soren and the others were emerging from the shop as she careened

down the alley.

"Thought you'd split," Alister said, giving her a sideways grin. He

seemed to have accepted her presence now.

"No," Helena said, breathing raggedly. "I'm all in."

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CHAPTER 50

Aprilis 1787

Accessing the West Island's flood cathedral was a mis-

sion of its own. There were Resistance patrols they had to hide from

until they finally found a weak point in the wall that Alister could open.

They crawled through, straight into ice-cold floodwater. The spring

floods had started early, and with Lumithia at near Ascendance, the

tributaries had climbed out of their banks and threatened to drag them

all downriver. They had to cling to the wall as they made their way to a

crossing point, one of the old pre- war bridges which was nearly de-

stroyed. It swayed dangerously, threatening to collapse as Helena

crawled across it, not daring to look down at the swirling, freezing death

below.

Things only got worse once they were across. The flood cathedrals

were immense towering underground rooms, designed to fill with sev-

eral storeys of water and redirect it downriver, and they were filling. The

grate to access one was half covered in floodwater and made of inert

iron, which required time to break through to reveal a terrifyingly deep

drop. Even with electric torches, they couldn't see the bottom. The roar

of water rose from the dark.

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Alchemised • 617

The others were unfazed. They were used to traversing the city levels,

rappelling up and down dozens of storeys during combat. Their armour

had harnesses built in, with spools of wires and hooks to anchor them-

selves.

Penny, a reconnaissance scout, went first. She was terrifyingly quick.

In seconds, she was anchored and dove headfirst into the dark without

a backwards glance. For a minute, there was nothing but the taut wires;

then they slackened and drew tight again, and began to vibrate at inter-

vals.

Alister touched them with his fingers. "All clear," he said, flicking the

wires so they'd vibrate back down.

The anchors came loose, slithering into the darkness after Penny like

a pair of serpents. The rest of them followed. Helena and Purnell, with-

out their own armour and harnesses, were deadweight in the literal

sense. Alister took Helena with him, and Sebastian carried Purnell, and

the water poured down on them like a waterfall. They were soaked to

the bone, nearly numb by the time they reached the bottom. It was too

loud to hear anything but water crashing down, echoing off the walls

with a cacophonous roar.

Alister was shaking with cold, but he knelt down, putting his hands

underwater for several minutes.

"It's shallow along the edges but about ten feet left, there's a drop,

and the water's fast. I can't feel the bottom." He had to shout to be

heard. "If we go straight, it should be fine, but let's anchor a line before

we cross. I'll go first, I know the safest route."

Once they reached the far wall, there was a ladder leading to an

upper walkway that ran above the dozens of huge tunnels feeding into

the cathedral. Helena used her vivimancy to warm everyone, but there

was nothing to be done about their soaking clothes except to keep mov-

ing.

Penny took the lead again. She'd memorised the route through all

the tunnels that wound bewilderingly. She had a slight limp from an old

injury, but she was still quick and light-footed. She moved forward,

checking the route, making sure things were clear before using her torch

to signal the rest of them forward.

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618 • SenLinYu

They did not encounter a single necrothrall.

Helena's dread grew.

They climbed an endless ladder that connected to a tunnel, and after

crawling so long that Helena began to wonder if she'd ever see light

again, they emerged into a basement.

"Wait here," Soren said.

Penny leaned against a wall. She was breathing hard, stooped over,

her hand pressing against her knee.

"Let me see," Helena said. There'd been a torn ligament—it had been

healed, but she should have been on bedrest for a few days and then

worked slowly back into active duty.

"I'm fine, I'll get fixed up again once we get back," Penny said, but

Helena could tell she wasn't.

There was a muffled shout, the quick schick of steel, and a thud.

Soren's head popped back through the doorway to those waiting in the

basement. "Clear," he said softly.

They ascended three floors. Helena had never seen Luc's unit in ac-

tual combat, only their practices. They were deadly. Dark blurs of steel

and spilled blood. Their weapons morphed like water in their hands, the

blades twisting and altering, reaching out and slaughtering anything

that crossed their paths, using their harnesses to make gravity-defying

attacks.

The prison was unquestionably occupied. There were too many

guards and necrothralls for it to be abandoned, but not as many as

would be expected for keeping Luc prisoner.

Helena kept telling herself it wasn't a trap, but it felt like one. They

moved fast, trying to search every room before their victims were dis-

covered and the alarms went off. There was no point in hiding the bod-

ies, Soren left a trail of blood in his wake.

Alister was defence. He had spectacular resonance reach. He could

throw up a wall, or shove back attackers by moving the ground under

them. He'd hang back and queue them so that Sebastian and Soren

could kill methodically without getting crowded or overrun in the nar-

row hallways.

Penny, no longer scouting, acted as Alister's cover, protecting him

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Alchemised • 619

from any attacks.

They checked every room. Cell after cell. No Luc. No prisoners at all.

The place seemed empty. Except there were guards.

They finally found a prisoner in the last cell in the block. A huddled

figure under a blanket.

"Luc?" Soren's voice was ragged with desperation.

The figure lying on the cot stirred, and a grey-haired man lifted his

head. When he saw them, his eyes went wide and he lunged towards the

bar, jabbering in broken Northern dialect.

"Resistance?"

That was all Helena managed to make out among the many words

she didn't know. He sounded western.

"Save?" The man pointed at himself.

"No," Soren said, shaking his head. "We're looking for someone else."

"Save." He pointed at himself again.

"We're only here for one person," Soren said, already turning again.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Boy?" He touched his own hair. "Gold?"

They all turned back.

"Is he here?" Helena asked.

The man set his jaw. "Save." He pointed at himself again.

"We don't have time to drag around a prisoner," Soren said. "We'll

find him ourselves."

"No!" The man sounded terrified now.

Helena studied him. "What's your name,"

"Vagner," he said slowly.

The name was familiar. Vagner.

Wagner? That was the name Crowther and Ivy had tortured out of

Lancaster.

She turned to Soren. "We've been looking for him."

"Helena." Soren looked at her with exasperation. "We can't deal with

a prisoner."

"This one is important. Crowther's had people trying to find him. If

this is where they're hiding the prisoners they don't want anyone know-

ing about, that's all the more evidence this is a prisoner we need."

Soren hesitated. "If he slows us down or does anything that puts the

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620 • SenLinYu

mission at risk, I will kill him, and you won't stop me. Agreed?"

Helena nodded.

Luc wasn't anywhere on that floor. They ascended again. Hope dwin-

dling. Maybe all these guards were just for Wagner, who followed them,

cowering behind her and Purnell as though they were human shields.

They turned a corner and found an immense grey-skinned necro-

thrall standing in front of the door. He smiled.

Not a necrothrall then, a lich.

"There you are," he said, in a rasping voice, raising a huge, spiked

club, as his other hand rapped a warning on the door behind him. "I

wondered if the remaining Bayards might show up. Two down and two

to go." He paid no attention to Soren, his focus on Sebastian. "That

pretty niece of yours made a sound like a rotten gourd when I ran her

through. You should have seen how fast your Principate dropped his

sword when she fell."

Sebastian stilled Soren. "Who are you?"

The lich smiled again, the corpse's bloated lips splitting into a rotten

grin. "Don't you recognise me, Sebastian? I'd think you would, after all

the effort you and Apollo put into executing me. Afraid it didn't stick.

Not like the axe did when I split your brother's skull."

"Atreus," Sebastian said, his voice soft, but his grip on his weapon

tightening.

Helena stared in horror. Kaine's father was still alive?

Before she could process the revelation, both paladins attacked, and

Atreus swung at them. The wall exploded, tile and stone flying, dust fill-

ing the air. The hallway was narrow, a tiny combat space in which speed

was a far greater advantage than size and muscle. If Atreus landed a

blow, he would have killed Sebastian and Soren, but he had to hit them.

They were faster, slicing at him a dozen times before he could raise the

club and give it momentum.

The other wall cracked open as Atreus swung again.

The air was so thick with dust, it was almost impossible to see any-

thing but the gleam of metal. There was a horrifying crunch and squelch

and something came flying through the debris and hit the ground. The

lich's head.

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Alchemised • 621

"Come on," Soren's voice barked from amid the choking dust. The

rest of them moved forward. Soren was favouring his right arm and

Sebastian was bleeding at the temple, but they were mostly unscathed.

The huge corpse that had been Atreus Ferron lay at their feet, gouged

all over with deep wounds that would have killed anyone who wasn't

already dead.

"Shouldn't we get the talisman?" Helena asked as they all stepped

around it.

"There's no time to search a corpse that big," Soren said as he stum-

bled forward and shoved the door open.

There was Luc.

They all froze.

He was strapped down on a medical table, a mask fitted over his

nose and mouth attached to several tubes. There was a cluster of people

around him, swathed in surgical gowns.

His torso had been sliced open, peeled back to expose all the organs,

but they were blackened, almost necrotic.

"Fuck!" said a woman's voice, and she glanced over towards them.

They were clearly trying to finish what they'd been doing when

Atreus knocked to warn them.

Two people lunged across the floor and through a door on the far

side without a backwards glance, leaving the rest.

The room exploded into violence.

Soren had been waiting for this moment. He shot across the room,

his weapon sweeping into a long curving blade. He killed everyone vio-

lently. There was nothing quick or clean about it. Warm blood spattered

across her face as Helena went for Luc.

Despite being strapped down, his hands had been pierced through

with spikes of nullium that Helena instantly recognised by the telltale

way they were dissolving into his blood.

Her fingers trembled as she reached out, looking for a pulse, not sure

if her resonance would work. She pressed her fingers below his jaw and

gave a small sob of relief. He was alive. Drugged and cut open, but alive.

She ripped the mask off his face as Purnell twisted a nozzle on the

tank, cutting off whatever they'd been using on him.

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622 • SenLinYu

What had they done?

Her hands shook as she searched for a talisman inside him, but she

felt no signs of lumithium or any other metal. His organs were dark-

ened, as if he'd been poisoned with something, but there was no time to

try to heal it all.

She closed the incisions, working carefully, aligning everything. Pur-

nell was prying the spikes out of his hands, her breath coming out in

rapid pants as she struggled to get them loose. There was a stark look of

terror starting to creep across the girl's face.

The veins and arteries in Luc's arms had been constricted, the gas

administered keeping his heartbeat impossibly sluggish. The combina-

tion had kept his resonance inactive while allowing the now dead scien-

tists to use their own on him. He was also conscious, but just barely.

Soren and Alister were trying to pry open the door that two had

escaped through without success.

Helena worked as fast as she could, speeding up Luc's metabolism

and forcing his damaged kidneys back into action, making his heart

beat more rapidly once Purnell had the spikes out. Helena shoved a

decoction into her hands, ordering her to wash the wounds and get

them wrapped in gauze.

Then her ring burned.

Pain like fire ran up her left hand. She gave a choked gasp as she kept

working. The sensation barely faded before it burned again.

"Is he alive?" she dimly heard Soren asking, his voice shaking.

"Yes. Just give me minute," she said, touching Luc's face desperately.

"Come on, Luc. Do you hear me?"

Her ring burned again.

Alarms started. A deafening ringing that filled the air.

"We've got to go!" Soren yelled over the din. "Fuck. We'll just carry

him."

"Luc, wake up." Helena shook him.

They didn't have the manpower for Luc to be deadweight. There was

no way that Helena and Purnell could carry him all the way out if there

was fighting.

She had a vial and a needle. Her hands were shaking as she filled a

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Alchemised • 623

syringe. She'd never used this— epinephrine combined with painkillers

and a few other things to jump-start his body into action. If it was too

strong, it would kill him. It would all be for nothing.

"Come on," she muttered, and jabbed it through his chest into his

heart.

Luc lurched, giving a sudden gasp as his body jolted into violent

consciousness.

Helena saw a flash of sky blue as his eyes cracked open.

"Hel?" he croaked, his voice dry. He reached out, touching her face

with his bandaged hand as if he couldn't believe she was real.

"Yes," she said, trying not to cry. "We've come to take you home."

His eyes rolled around, searching, skimming past everyone clustered

around him. "Where's—where's Lila?"

"Headquarters," Soren said, his voice gruff, "waiting for you."

Luc stiffened. "Is she really—?"

"She's alive," Helena said quickly. "We took care of her. It's your turn

now. Come on."

Luc gave a shuddering gasp of relief. "They said if I went—they

wouldn't kill her. She was—bleeding— so much. Wouldn't even let me

burn it closed. She's—she's all right?"

"She's alive, getting better," Helena said. "Come on. Take this. We've

got to go."

She pulled him upright and he groaned, clutching at his chest.

"What did they do to me?"

"I don't know. I'll fix you better once we're safe," she said, breaking a

tablet in half and pushing it past his lips. She just had to hope he was

still strong enough that everything she was doing wouldn't kill him.

"Hold still."

She pressed her hands on each side of his neck, and used the dissolv-

ing tablets to manipulate his physiology, getting his internal systems

working the way they needed to.

He'd crash terribly once it all wore off, but she'd be there. She could

make up all the difference once they were safe.

"Up now," she said. He was breathing too fast; she could feel his

heart racing dangerously. She tried to slow it a little, but the more con-

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624 • SenLinYu

scious he became, the more he comprehended their danger.

She pulled one of his arms over her shoulder and Purnell took the

other, and they dragged him to his feet.

"You came . . ." Luc said, slumping heavily on her.

"You're my best friend," Helena said, staring ahead. "Of course I did.

Come on. We need to get you out."

He kept tripping over his feet, his body bearing down so hard that

her knees nearly buckled. She was grateful he was not in armour, or she

didn't know how they'd manage. The floor was slick with blood and

gore.

"You shouldn't be here. You're not—trained," he said when they were

halfway down a flight of stairs.

"Helping you is exactly what I'm trained for," she said.

Her ring kept burning, again and again. She ignored it.

She was afraid that after all the fighting to get there, Soren and the

others would be too exhausted to keep going, but recovering Luc had

reinvigorated them.

However secret the prison had been, it was not so secret that there

weren't plenty of necrothralls now that the alarms had gone off. Not

shoddy, damaged necrothralls that shambled and ravaged carelessly;

these greys were expertly reanimated, so capable it was hard to believe

they were dead except they kept coming no matter how Soren and Se-

bastian sliced them apart. The narrowness of the hallways and tight

corners was both gift and curse.

"I need a weapon," Luc said, trying to pull away from Helena as

Soren was slammed against the wall and crumpled. A necrothrall nearly

took his head off, but Sebastian rammed into it, buying Soren enough

time to scramble to his feet and decapitate it.