CHAPTER 10
HELENA SAT BY THE WINDOW IN HER room, trying and failing to make out any sense of resonance in her fingers. If she focused very intensely, sometimes she thought there was still a glimmer of it.
She stood and went to the window. The days were short and terribly dark, sunsets at midday.
She closed her hand into a fist, eyes shut, concentrating, and then flexed her fingers, pressing them against the window’s icy iron lattice, straining
until her eyes blurred.
Nothing.
She fidgeted with the manacle around her wrist until the spike between her wrist bones twinged in warning.
Despite centuries of alchemical study, there was still much unknown about resonance.
Prior to the Faith, there had been a cult of alchemy devoted to a masculine version of Lumithia.
The cult claimed that mankind itself was the first product of the alchemy, created by Sol at the beginning of time and scattered across the earth.
However, the human beings created were lowly and corruptible, much like the most ignoble of metals, and Sol for all his power could not make them better. Then came Lumen, whose alchemical processes were much harsher.
Lumen joined together the other four elements of fire, earth, water, and air, using the entire earth as an alembic, with the creatures of earth as the prima materia. The Great Disaster, two millennia past, which nearly shattered both earth and humanity, had been the processes of alchemisation itself.
First the fires that rained upon the earth: the calcination. The rising tides that swallowed the great cities were the dissolution. The earthquakes that shattered even the mountains were the separation. The aftermath as the survivors emerged from the destruction: the conjunction. The plagues and sickness and starvation that followed: the fermentation. The death toll, so
immense that humanity nearly blinked from existence: the distillation. And finally in culmination, the result of Lumen’s great experiment, mankind itself manifesting alchemical resonance was the coagulation.
This process was the method of alchemisation that Cetus’s early writings referred to.
The Faith and the Institute both rejected the cult almost entirely, although they did accept Lumen as Lumithia, and acknowledge her as one of the elemental deities in the Quintessence. However, the Faith held a strict view that resonance was not a reflection of spiritual purity but merely an expression of it. All humans were flawed, alchemist or not, and therefore all humans must strive towards purification. A step which Cetus conveniently left out of his alchemical process.
Additionally, it wasn’t difficult to predict where large numbers of alchemists would appear. It was correlated with regions that had large lumithium deposits. The Northern continent’s largest mine was in the mountains, upriver from Paladia, and the number of children with measurable resonance born in the city was more than double the rates of neighbouring countries.between her Paladia’s lumithium mines had made for complicated politics. Lumithium could only be safely excavated by those without resonance; otherwise theknown about symptoms and wasting sickness came quickly. But the work was limited to a single generation. Miners’ children were almost always born with measurable resonance. Paladia was constantly bringing in new labourers to work the mines, resulting in a perpetual population explosion. That was the reason for the city-state’s incredible density.
The guilds depended on lumithium for processing, but they disliked the competition that mining created. The Alchemy Institute had been at maximum capacity for decades, which functioned as a limit on the number of alchemy certificates in any given year. Without certification, people could not professionally call themselves alchemists or use their resonance without a credentialled supervisor.
The guilds wanted the certification and admissions of the Alchemy Institute to remain limited, both because it increased the value of their credentials, and because those without formal certification were cheap to hire for alchemical factory work. However, the guilds also wanted assurance that their heirs would be the ones entering the Institute, no matter whose resonance or aptitude was greater.
It had created a perpetual cycle of grievances in which everyone found the ankind itselfcurrent circumstances unfair, but no one would agree to a solution. Principate Helios had tried for decades, and it had resulted in mass riots and labour strikes.
The Undying had seemingly solved the mining issue by using necrothralls, avoiding both lumithium shortages and exponential competition, which made for bitter irony: The war had so decimated the alchemist population that now they needed a breeding program to revive it.
She squinted, trying to see the tube running through her wrist more clearly, to work out what it was. It appeared to be encased in ceramic. Which might mean it was breakable, although more likely it meant the metal was corrosive.
Lumithium wasn’t corrosive, though. It was categorically noble, an incorruptible metal, less perfect than gold but superior to silver, which tarnished. Perhaps a lumithium alloy?
She couldn’t think of many lumithium alloys, though, as it was h measurablepredominantly used in the emanations needed to increase or stabilise the resonance of other metals.
She suspected that the resonance suppression was some kind of Eastern alchemy. The Eastern Empire was very secretive of their alchemy, and Shiseo had been the one who’d put the manacles on her.
While she was still scrutinising, the door opened. She glanced over, h measurableexpecting Ferron, but found a stranger staring at her, his face alight.
He slipped in, shutting the door softly, looking around, as if he expected to be immediately stopped. When nothing happened, a slow smile spread across his face.
He came towards Helena on quick, quiet steps.
He was solidly built, with wheat-coloured hair and a square face. He was he number ofdressed in a deep-blue frock coat and cape that had geometric embroidery ple could notdecorating it, and a deep-burgundy cravat at his throat.
Helena’s instinctive response to the sight of him was absolute terror.
It had never occurred to her that a stranger might one day walk into the room. Her hands spasmed, sending a shock of pain up her arms.
He paused. cheap to hire“You don’t remember me,” he said in disbelief. There was a hint of offence in the way he said it, as if she should know him instantly.
Helena studied him wildly, trying to guess at who he could be. His voice was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d heard it.
His expression grew eager, triumphant as he got closer. His hand extended, n. Principatefingers curved and grasping.
The door slammed open so abruptly the room seemed to jolt.
“Lose your way, Lancaster?” Ferron said as he entered, his eyes burning an necrothralls,irate silver. which madeA flood of relief rushed through Helena.
Lancaster straightened instantly, the hurried shiftiness falling away as he pivoted to face Ferron, giving a careless shrug. Ferron passed him without a more clearly,glance.
“Just exploring this mansion of yours,” he said. “Got curious when I saw was corrosive.her.”
He nodded towards Helena just as Ferron stepped between them. Helena shrank towards Ferron without thinking, so close she could smell the scent of juniper on his clothes.
“She’s not available for entertainment,” Ferron said, his voice chilly.
“You’ll have to find someone else to amuse yourself with. I’m sure you’ll manage.”
Lancaster laughed. “But you got her in the papers and everything.” He y, and Shiseopouted. “Surely you allow her visitors?”
“No, I don’t,” Ferron said after giving Helena a perfunctory glance. “And in the future, if you’re curious about something of mine, you may ask. We should return to the party. I imagine Aurelia misses us.” e expected toHe rested a gloved hand on Lancaster’s shoulder and steered him firmly pread acrosstowards the door. Lancaster glanced back at Helena, the intensity returning to his eyes, as if there was something he was trying desperately to communicate to her.
Helena watched him vanish through the doorway, trying to place the name.
Lancaster.
A guild name. Nickel. Yes, the nickel guild. There’d been a Lancaster in her year, or perhaps the year above? Erik Lancaster.
Why would he expect Helena to recognise him?
As she stood wondering over this, the faint sound of music drifted through the closed door.
It dawned on her then why there was someone in the house. The Ferrons were hosting a solstice eve party.
She had no idea they hosted anything. The parts of the house she’d seen were so dirty, she’d be embarrassed to admit guests. However, the hibernal
nd extended,solstice was one of Paladia’s most significant holidays, and given how closely the summer solstice was tied to the Holdfasts, it was probably the only major holiday the Undying were still allowed to celebrate. es burning anShe went to the door. Despite the danger, she was burning with curiosity.
She knew there’d be Undying and liches present. Anyone invited would be an Aspirant or at least supportive of the regime.
It might be her best chance to get herself killed. She gripped the knob, then paused; it was more likely that they’d just torture her. She wavered. In that case, unless Ferron intervened, there’d be little she could do to protect herself.
Her instinctive relief at his appearance unsettled her in more ways than she wanted to think about, and she would think about it if she spent the entire
l the scent ofevening in her room.
She opened the door.
Even though her exploration of the house while drugged by that tablet had made it possible for her to pass the hallway shadows without panicking, she still had to take several steadying breaths before she could make herself cross
the threshold.
She went towards the main wing.
The music grew louder. She paused, checking to ensure all was clear.
She scarcely recognised the house. The sconces and chandeliers were all lit and gleaming, everything sparkling in a way Helena hadn’t known Spirefell could. y returning toShe crept down the hall, but before she could turn the corner, she heard the ommunicaterustle of fabric and a woman’s hushed giggle. She shrank back, holding her breath as she melted into the shadows, trying not to feel them closing around ace the name.her. Aurelia darted around the corner, pulling someone along by their wrist, drawing him into the darkness at the far end of the corridor.
It was not Ferron.
Helena couldn’t see much from her vantage point, but the build and hair were unmistakably wrong.
Aurelia leaned against the wall with an eager laugh, and the man closed in on her until Helena couldn’t see her anymore. There was more rustling fabric, and then the giggling gave way to breathy gasps and hushed moans and audible groaning.
Helena stared in horrified disbelief, not sure what to do until the thought occurred to her: Ferron would watch his wife having an affair when he
checked Helena’s memories.
She scrambled away from the shadows and fled silently up the nearest stair.
With her preferred route cut off, she resigned herself to approaching from a d would be anhigher floor. She could hear the hum of voices like a hive of bees. It was a large party. he knob, thenShe’d peeked into an abandoned ballroom during her drugged exploration of the house. On the third floor there was a cramped, twisty little stairway that led to the balcony alcove over the ballroom where the chandelier could be pulled up for cleaning. than sheShe crept up the stairs and then knelt, peeking over the railing, her loose hair falling around her face. She noticed with irritation that there was a mesh safety net over the opening, as if Ferron had somehow foreseen that she’d go there and might attempt suicide during his party.
She hadn’t even been thinking about it, but she was annoyed at finding herself preemptively thwarted. herself crossShe peered past the net. The ballroom was filled with people and corpses.
Everyone was gleaming, decked with fabric, jewels, and finery. Even at a distance, she could tell their clothing was covered in intricate decorations.
Silver fine as moonlight, and platinum and gold that seemed to glow amid the rs were all litgemstones and yards of richly dyed fabrics. The wealth of the guests dripped off them.
The high society of New Paladia. There were dozens of liches in she heard theattendance, the death of their bodies apparent in the waxy pallor of their skin and yellowing sclera. As Helena watched, she began to suspect that some were living people who’d powdered and oiled their skin in imitation. As if it were something to aspire to.
There were two girls, clearly sisters. The younger one had sharp features and a canny look about her, while the older sister looked as if she’d been cast from the same mould but softened somehow, her edges worn down, like a statue left to weather.
The older girl wore a pale-bluish paint on her skin and seemed ustling fabric,disinterested in the party around her. When people tried to talk to her, she’d ignore them. Sometimes she’d drift away as if caught by an invisible current, and the younger sister would immediately break off her conversation and go after her, coddling her and snatching things off passing trays and feeding her canapés as if she were a baby bird, holding her hand to keep her close.
An odd pair.
Helena caught sight of Stroud and Mandl. Mandl had clearly used vivimancy to improve her appearance. The corpse no longer bore any visible aching from asigns of rot. The blackening veins still showed through the bloodless skin, but she’d seemingly accentuated it, as if to make her appearance seem intentional.
There were several photographers with large cameras. Flashes like small explosions kept going off as they tried to capture the room.
Helena recognised the governor, Fabian Greenfinch, who’d been named head of the Guild Assembly during the “reformation.”
She searched for Ferron and found him standing towards the far side of the room. It was like spotting a panther amid a flock of exotic birds.
He was in black, as always, and it made the silvery whiteness of his hair and skin starker. Not the grey of death like the liches and their imitators; he gleamed somehow.
There was something so distinctly strange about him.
“The new year is almost here!” said a woman with a grey-painted face, spinning around. She let out a wild giggle as she held a crystal goblet overhead, the contents splashing onto her dress and the floor. low amid theAurelia swept back into the room. Her dress was also black, and she was ornamented all over with silver rather than her usual iron, as if trying to look more like her husband. Her bodice was detailed with scaled armour. The geometry of the pattern was embroidered in silver up her sleeves. She wore silver alchemy rings crafted to make her fingers look longer.
Yet there was a faint sense of dishevelment about her. The stain on her lips was smudged so that it softened her mouth, and her skirts had odd creases.
She sauntered over to Ferron with a smug expression, reaching out to straighten his collar and draw him towards her. e’d been castFerron stared at his wife, his expression not changing.
“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!” The room began chanting a countdown for the solstice and the new year it heralded.
As the numbers wound down, Ferron reached out and ran his thumb across his wife’s mouth.
At zero, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Aurelia’s. A camera flashed. The room exploded with cheers, and kissing, and clinking glassware.
Ferron’s lips remained pressed against Aurelia’s, but as he kissed her, he raised his eyes, and his gaze locked onto Helena’s face.
She stared back, forgetting to breathe, frozen in place.
Her stomach flipped, and her heart began pounding until her blood roared in her ears. She wanted to draw back, to disappear, but she was trapped by less skin, butthat cold silver.
He didn’t look away until Aurelia broke off the kiss, turning from him. His eyes immediately dropped, and a false, indulgent smile curved across his lips as he scanned the room, clapping without enthusiasm until one of the dead servants approached with a tray of drinks. He snatched up a flute and knocked back the contents as if it were a mouthwash.
Helena sat back, pressing her hands against her chest, willing her heart to ar side of thestop pounding.
“And now,” a loud voice said, interrupting the hum of conversation, “some entertainment to inaugurate this new year.”
The music broke off as the musicians looked around, uncertain if they were supposed to keep playing.
Helena followed the voice and spotted a man with long sideburns curving down his jaw, as ornately dressed as the rest of the guests, entering from the far side of the room and gleefully dragging a line of people behind him. A man, woman, and three children, ranging in age, all chained together.
They were clearly not guests; their clothes were too plain, and their faces stricken with terror.
The speaker turned, facing the watching crowd as he gestured at his prisoners. “These are the last surviving relatives of one of the Eternal Flame’s noble families.” n on her lipsShock rippled through the room. Helena scrutinised the faces of the people chained together but didn’t recognise them.
“Distant relatives, I’ll admit, but very careful to try to hide this illustrious connection, weren’t you?” He turned to the captives, wagging a finger.
“Please—” It was the father who spoke. “My wife’s grandmother was a Lapse, we had no—”
The father was backhanded across the face with a jewellery-covered hand, humb acrossknocking him off his feet, and he dragged the family to the ground as he fell.
He lay, the side of his face pocked with wounds. a’s. A camera“I told you not to talk. You’re ruining my fun.” The speaker’s voice was ng glassware.almost singsong. “Now then, I know you’ll all want a turn, but I say we choose an order and do them one by one. Youngest first, I think. Or … last?”
He looked around expectantly, as if to see what the popular vote would be.
“Durant.” Ferron’s voice was icy. “I told you no.”
Durant pivoted, buying himself a moment by running a finger along his cheeks to smooth his sideburns as he drew up and faced Ferron. The room held its breath. rom him. His“Oh, come on, it’ll be fun, and they deserve it. By law, it’s required that all citizens disclose any relation to the Eternal Flame. They didn’t. They need to be made an example of.”
“Then they’ll be formally executed,” Ferron said. “I don’t need your ideas of entertainment staining the marble.”
“Come on, it’s the perfect start to the new year, putting the last of them in the ground. Everyone wants to watch them die. Are you going to be a shit ation, “somehost and disappoint all your guests?”
Ferron rolled his eyes. “Fine.” n if they wereFaster than Durant could move, Ferron stepped forward and snapped the neck of the youngest prisoner. A boy of ten or twelve. The crack was audible all the way up to where Helena watched in horror.
The mother screamed, lunging forward and catching her son as Ferron let go of him. Then Ferron had his hands around her neck and snapped it, too.
The whole family was dead within a minute, bodies left sprawled across the floor, still linked by their chains.
It happened so fast, everyone in the ballroom was left standing in shock, unable to process that it was already over. Helena could scarcely believe it. It ernal Flame’sdidn’t seem real that something like that could happen without warning. Five people. of the peopleFerron hadn’t even used resonance or a weapon, just his bare hands.
He straightened, adjusting his cuffs with the flick of his wrist. “Executions are required to be clean now, Durant. His Eminence has been quite clear on that point. I hope you weren’t expecting to break the law here on my property and in front of our illustrious governor and a dozen journalists.”
Ferron patted Durant on the shoulder, his expression impassive, as if it were nothing that he’d done. He raised two fingers, signalling, and several servants hurried through the dazed crowd to drag the bodies away. Durant stood looking like a child whose toy had been stolen.
The silence was broken by hushed voices as the crowd woke from their stupor. The music began falteringly, and after some slight hesitation, the party resumed.
In a few minutes, it was as if the deaths had been forgotten.
Helena almost left, not wanting to witness what might happen next, but equally afraid to miss something important. She’d been cut off from everything for so long.
The party did not end until dawn, although the numbers dwindled as those uired that allwho had work the next day were forced to excuse themselves. Eventually only the most affluent remained. Helena tried to notice everything she could, to identify as many faces as possible. She looked for signs of tension or familiarity. Trying to construct a sense of the social hierarchy that existed.
From overhead, unable to hear words, it was easy to notice the ways people lied to one another. She just watched their bodies move, observing the contradictions between their expressions and their subconscious gestures, slowly picking out who among the guests were the Undying. There was a kind of fearfulness they tended to evoke after even short conversations.
Ferron also watched the room, only conversing when approached. He did not mingle, and he never sought anyone out. The entire room seemingly oriented itself around him instead.
It grew readily apparent which people in attendance knew him to be the High Reeve and who were unaware. There was a reverence and delicacy in how certain people approached, while some of the liches who spoke to him seemed overtly resentful. Atreus did not appear to be there at all, assuming he was still in Crowther’s body. believe it. ItFerron smiled smiles that never reached his eyes, engaging in endless small talk as if he were a benevolent ruler. To Helena, unable to make out his words and simply watching him from a distance, he looked completely bored.
Morning light was streaming through the windows when the last guests finally began to leave.
Helena turned to make her way back to her room and nearly jumped out of my propertyher skin. One of the servants was standing silently beside the steps, watching her. She was an older servant, one of Helena’s most regular minders. Not a housekeeper but something senior. Helena had been so absorbed by the party, she hadn’t even noticed when the necrothrall had come.
Halfway to her room, they paused at the sound of an angry voice.
“Still?” It was a man speaking.
“It’s not like it’s something I can just do on my own,” Aurelia’s sharp voice retorted.
“The only reason you exist is to give the Ferrons an heir. If they cast you aside, do you think anyone else would ever take you?”
“There’s nothing else I can do! I’ve tried everything.”
“Get him drunk. Drug him if you must, or find someone else to put a child in your womb. I will not let you bring our family to ruin.”
“He can’t get drunk!” Aurelia snapped. “Do you think I haven’t tried? I’ve gone to every shop, used every drug and perfume, and nothing ever works. If I get pregnant, he’ll know it’s not his.”
“Useless girl. I should have kept your sisters instead of you.”
There was no response to that.
Helena heard rapid footsteps and barely managed to shrink into an alcove observing thebefore a viper-faced man with thick sideburns came around the corner. He was markedly less lavish in his clothing than the other guests.
Helena heard the clatter of Aurelia’s heels on the wood floor, and a door in the distance slammed.
She released a slow breath. She’d known the Ferrons were an arranged marriage, but she hadn’t realised how dysfunctional they were.
When she reached the hallway leading to her room, she peeked warily around the corner and found Ferron standing outside the door, waiting for her. Her blood ran cold, the crack of the boy’s neck still ringing in her ears.
She’d known what he was, but seeing it was different. assuming heIt had happened so fast, and in front of everyone.
He hadn’t even hesitated.
He glanced over. “Enjoy your spying?” make out hisShe swallowed hard and made herself walk towards him. “It was— pletely bored.something new.”
He inclined his head, studying her beneath lidded eyes. “Are you bored?”
Of course she was bored. There was little for her to do but frantically search his decrepit house and worry over her inability to find anything.
“Imprisonment is not particularly diverting.”
“You do realise you’re allowed to ask for things. Within reason.” by the party,She most certainly did not. “I am?”
He nodded as if it were obvious. “Ask the servants if you want something.
They know what you’re allowed.” His eyes narrowed. “Why is Lancaster
interested in you?”
Of course that was why he was there.
“I don’t know.” She shook her head, a curl falling across her face, suddenly tired. “I don’t think I knew him. Guild students never spoke to me.”
Curiosity bloomed in his eyes, real interest rather than the feigned attention he’d employed during the party. “You’re full of surprises.”
“Do you say that to every girl?” The words popped out thoughtlessly. ’t tried? I’veFerron gave a short laugh, his gaze sharpening, eyes darting across her face.
“I think you should go to bed,” he said.
She looked at him in confusion, feeling as if the encounter had suddenly veered off course, but she wasn’t sure how.
She was tired, though. She hadn’t expected to be up the whole night. She looked at him for another moment, then went into her room without looking back. When she climbed into her bed, she could still see Ferron’s shadow and a door inoutside her door.
Somehow, knowing it was his, the sight of it didn’t frighten her even though it should have.
THE NEXT DAY WHEN HELENA spotted one of the maids, she stopped her. “Can
I have a knife?”
The maid shook her head.
Helena cocked her head, eyes widening innocently. “What about scissors?”
Another no. Well, she’d expected as much.
“Books? Or the day’s newspaper?”
The maid hesitated then nodded slowly.
Helena stared at her, torn between triumph and abject frustration. Had she really been allowed reading materials the whole time? And Ferron had assumed she’d know she was allowed to order the servants around?
“Then I would like them,” she said, her jaw tense. “Please.”
The paper arrived with her next meal.
It featured a photograph of Ferron and Aurelia’s kiss on the cover. For all the world, they looked like a happy young couple, especially since the black- and-white photo made Ferron appear more human than he was in person. His hand was resting on his wife’s waist, and her embellished fingers were curved up around his shoulder as if she were clinging to him.
It looked romantic and delightfully celebratory.
The article made no references to Ferron murdering a family for his guests’ entertainment, as if it wasn’t even notable.poke to me.”
ned attentionThe next page had a picture of the High Reeve executing several more “insurgents.” Apparently in anticipation of the new year, public executions had been held on all eight days of the week leading up to the solstice.
There was also an article about the repopulation program “showing promise.”
Ferron arrived that afternoon to check Helena’s memories. It hadn’t happened since before the latest transference, as if he’d been waiting for her brain to recover enough to handle the intrusion.
He was disinterested in what he found aside from the moment that Lancaster had entered her room. He watched the encounter over and over, forcing Helena to repeatedly relive the abject mortification of her thoughtless relief when he’d stormed in. He took no interest in Aurelia’s affair, and when he encountered the conversation between Aurelia and her father, he chuckled as he broke the connection with Helena’s mind.
If he had eyes and necrothralls all throughout the house, there was likely little he didn’t know.
He pulled out a vial of the small white tablets. Helena cringed at the thought of the withdrawal but opened her mouth obediently.
In a matter of minutes, every feeling within her was gone; she felt placid as out scissors?”a frozen lake.
“That will be the last one,” he said before he left.
Helena resolved to explore the remainder of the house. She’d yet to venture into the east wing, and after such a large party there was a chance that something useful to her might have been left out.
She slipped through the house, listening carefully for the sound of Aurelia’s heels on the wood floor, starting on the top storey and making her way down. The east wing was not a mirror of the west wing but similar enough that Helena almost felt as though she’d already explored it.
The servant from the previous night was following her once again.
As Helena explored the main floor, the servant paused to close the door, and Helena noticed that a large door across the way had been left ajar.
That was unusual. Locked or unlocked, the doors were almost always closed.
On impulse, Helena made a lunge, darting through the door and slamming or his guests’it behind her. There was a lock on the inside, and she twisted it an instant before the knob rattled.
If she weren’t drugged, her heart would be racing.
She knew she had minutes at best before the key would be retrieved, so she turned away, eager to experience the freedom of exploring on her own and hopefully finding something she wasn’t intended to.
There was a switch on the wall. A dusty chandelier overhead came to life, the bulbs humming, barely illuminating the room. The lights flickered unsteadily, casting shadows that scrabbled across the floor like rats.
She was standing in a large drawing room. The windows were covered, not merely curtained but boarded up, and the smell of dust and metal and something uncomfortably organic lingered in the air. There was a pungent metallic ozone scent that she could taste on her tongue, a thick sensation r thoughtlesscaused by heavy alchemy use. When resonance was channelled deeply, the ir, and whenair itself was left with traces of the transmutation.
It had been a long time since she’d encountered a smell like that.
She couldn’t help but feel that the heaviness about the house was stronger in that room.
There was a large cage welded into the floor, gleaming when the light flickered; the bulb filaments gave soft buzzing clicks each time.
She approached cautiously. The cage was too narrow for an animal but felt placid asslightly shorter than Helena. A prisoner would be forced to huddle inside it.
It was iron, but roughly wrought, made with manual smithing not alchemy, which meant the iron was probably inert, not transmutable at all. She touched it, feeling the rough telltale traits that no alchemist would leave behind. a chance thatA pattern on the floor beyond caught her attention.
There was an alchemical array carved into the wood. The largest Helena had ever seen.
Transmutational arrays were often simply illustrative, to record processes, but they were also used for transmutation when the process was too complex for simple resonance manipulation. Alchemisation always required the stabilisation of an array. Proprietary arrays were what allowed the guilds to produce alchemical products inside industrial-sized forges.
Helena had never seen anything as elaborate as what was carved into the floor of Spirefell. Within the containment circle were nine smaller arrays which met to form the nine points, rather than a celestial eight or an elemental five.
Each inner array was marked with numerous symbols, and they all channelled towards a series of concentric circles in the centre.
ieved, so sheIt was not an iron forge array. The symbols and lines were all wrong for any kind of ironwork.
The light in the room kept cutting out. She knelt, trying to see more clearly.
Alchemists often used unique symbols to protect their discoveries from anyone without proper training and devotion to the subtle arts, but alchemical covered, notenergy favoured certain patterns. A scholar with a wide repertoire and sufficient experience could usually parse them. It was like reading shorthand: If the fundamentals were there, an educated alchemist could divine the meaning through reason.
She traced her fingers along the lines, trying to envision the resonance
flow.
There was a click and grind behind her.
She glanced back to see Ferron’s silhouette filling the doorway.
not alchemy, She touched
It was not an iron forge array. The symbols and lines were all wrong for any kind of ironwork.
The light in the room kept cutting out. She knelt, trying to see more clearly.
Alchemists often used unique symbols to protect their discoveries from anyone without proper training and devotion to the subtle arts, but alchemical energy favoured certain patterns. A scholar with a wide repertoire and sufficient experience could usually parse them. It was like reading shorthand: If the fundamentals were there, an educated alchemist could divine the meaning through reason.
She traced her fingers along the lines, trying to envision the resonance
flow.
There was a click and grind behind her.
She glanced back to see Ferron’s silhouette filling the doorway.