CHAPTER 12
HELENA OPENED THE DOOR, A PIECE OF crystal clutched in one hand, and found Lila sitting on the floor, curled up like a child trying not to be found. She was out of her armour. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her long pale hair cropped short, and when she turned to look at Helena, it brought the right side of her face into view.
A roping scar tore through the side of her face and throat.
“Lila. Lila, what’s wrong? What happened?”
Lila stared at Helena without responding for a long time.
“I made a mistake,” Lila finally said, her voice barely a whisper, “I’ve made such a mistake.”
“It’s—all right. I’m sure it’ll be all right. Whatever you’ve done—I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”
“No.” Lila shook her head. “I’ve been lying to everyone—”
Helena woke abruptly, lurching up as the dream was cut short.
The withdrawal from the tablet hit like a brick wall, and she collapsed again, emotions crushing her. Even breathing hurt.
She tried to ignore it, to focus on the memory.
What had Lila been about to say? And what had happened to her? The injury had looked recent, the scarring reminiscent of what was on Helena’s own chest, no vivimancy used.
Helena couldn’t imagine why. Lila wasn’t someone who’d ever refused healing. As Luc’s paladin primary, there was a tremendous pressure on her to keep him safe, to prove that she deserved her rank.
She would often grow short-tempered when she wasn’t allowed to recover as quickly as she wanted to, brushing off Helena’s warnings about the balance of things, that healing took a much greater toll on the body than natural recovery did; too much and it could kill her. That there was a price that had to be paid, somehow, by someone.
Lila never cared about any of that. Protecting Luc was all that mattered to her.
MOUNTAIN SNOW BLANKETED THE ESTATE a few days later, cutting Spirefell off from the rest of the world, and life fell into a monotonous routine until the third session of transference arrived.
Once again, Helena’s consciousness was crushed down to the brink of oblivion, all the way to that moment of singularity as Ferron enmeshed his mind with hers.und. She was This time, she felt him blink, and her own eyes closed. She was being puppeteered not physically but across her now shared mental landscape. She could feel his mind orienting itself within the patterns of hers, his consciousness attempting to sway her.
With his presence, she could finally feel the strange shape of her thoughts, the unnatural ways they swerved.
Much of it was seamless, smooth channels of evasion that refused to veer from their course, but there was a fault line, as if one part had been constructed separately.ne—I’m sure She felt Ferron notice it, and before he could push towards it, she reacted.
A self-destructive wave of desperation exploded from inside her, like a
bomb going off in her head.
Ferron vanished. Everything vanished.
When she regained consciousness, she could barely form thoughts. The vibrations of her own breathing hurt like the tongue of a whip lashing through her mind.
She wasn’t particularly feverish, but she also didn’t get better after several days.
In her dreams, there were people crowded around her. Dozens of them.
Each time she slept, they’d drag her underwater and drown her. Bloodlessure on her to hands grasping at her. Icy water filled her lungs. Her arms and legs were twisted and wrenched at. Splintered nails clawing at her skin. Fingers hooking inside her mouth, pulling down on her jaw until it came loose.
Fingernails sinking into her eyeballs, and she never died.
She just kept drowning.
She’d wake, choking and gagging as her body tried to expel the phantom water from her lungs. She couldn’t make her mouth work. Her vision was
upside down.
She recognised the voice of the stuttering mind specialist, saying things about the mind being complex and not fully understood, that Helena’s condition was unprecedented, and there was little to be done but wait and see Spirefell offwhat would happen.
When she finally began to recover, she felt as though a part of her had died.
Ferron’s encroachment was inevitable, progressing a little further with each month, the cracks in her mind widening to accommodate him. She had neither the strength nor the will to keep resisting.
The war was lost. Her suffering would not bring anyone back, not any more than Luc’s had saved them.
When she was no longer bedridden, she braved the cold and went out to the stables. The side door was unlocked, and she entered quickly before the thralls could stop her.
It was empty. Death slipping from her fingers again.
The winter deepened, sinking into an oppressive cold that crawled into the recesses of the house, the iron acting like veins, carrying the midwinter frost into every hallway and inner room, leaving the house frigid no matter how much the radiators hissed.
The Ferrons fled to the city, leaving Helena behind. In their absence, the meals were improved by the lack of table scraps, and the bread was less stale, although the inclusion of protein was scarcer.
For several weeks, newspapers became her only glimpse into the world shing throughbeyond. The repopulation program, which had initially been treated as an economic necessity, was gradually reframed as the new scientific frontier.
New Paladia would forge its own future; no longer would alchemical repertoires be left to chance. Parentage in the program was to be selected based on the strength and variety of resonance. Tests were being done to discover the ideal combinations.
The guild families, editorials effused, had the right ideas about marrying into resonance. Without the interference and backwards notions of the superstitious, there would be a new world order. Resonance-based abilities would achieve heights never before seen.
Scientific terminology and the overuse of words like genius and groundbreaking tried to frame the program as if it were an obvious next step.
There were never any explanations about where these assets would go, or
who’d raise them, or that they were people, just that they would exist and be industrially and economically valuable resources.
New Paladia sounded more like a factory than a city, intended to produce exactly the variety of alchemists the guilds wanted.
The society pages, which Helena had taken only a passing interest in, gradually became the sections that she read most avidly as she noticed a pattern. Over the course of several weeks, several familiar names vanished.
Paladian guild society only had so many visible members, which made their abrupt disappearances noticeable, especially when pages usually brimming with gossip were reticent to speculate about their whereabouts.
Helena couldn’t help but wonder if it was a sign of a growing insurrection.
Perhaps New Paladia’s cracks were finally beginning to show.
She began having dreams of herself sitting across from Ilva Holdfast, with Crowther beside her. Her eyes darting back and forth between Ilva’s strained expression and Crowther’s appraising stare.
She could feel that they were waiting for her to say something, but she always woke before she’d answered.
As Helena was left to her own devices, Spirefell became her domain. With Aurelia gone, she spent little time in her room, accustomed to ignoring the necrothralls’ constant orbit around her. She avoided the largest rooms and spaces with deep shadows, and it became an ingrained habit to open the doors was less stale,and pick things up gingerly so that it didn’t agitate the manacles.
Her familiarity was fortunate, because when Aurelia returned from the city, Helena knew every hidden alcove and servants’ passage to hide in.
Aurelia had not come alone. She’d brought a companion, the same broad- shouldered man Helena had glimpsed during the solstice party. The first time Helena encountered them together, Aurelia was entirely naked, splayed out across a bearskin rug, giggling beneath the body of her paramour. Ferron was still in the city, and they seemed to be taking liberal advantage of his absence.
It was more than a week before Helena finally saw the pair of them fully clothed. At the rear of the house sprawled an enormous hedge maze. Helena would sometimes pass the time trying to navigate through it with her eyes.
She was nearly to the centre when Aurelia exited the maze, her companion close behind.
Aurelia was speaking animatedly, the first time Helena had ever seen her happy, while her companion seemed absorbed by the house, peering up and giving Helena a clear look at his face.
Lancaster.
Helena shrank from sight instantly.
Lancaster was Aurelia’s lover? The same person who’d just happened to find her room during the party.
That couldn’t possibly be a coincidence.
Could he— Helena was afraid to even allow the possibility to exist in her mind where Ferron might return and discover it, but she couldn’t stop herself from wondering.
Could Lancaster be a spy? What if he was from the Resistance and that was why he’d looked for Helena? Was that what he’d been trying to communicate to her?
Was he a piece of her hidden memory? He must be. It would explain his surprise when she didn’t recognise him.
She went back to the window, but he and Aurelia had moved on.
Helena began watching for Lancaster, growing increasingly convinced that he had ulterior motives in visiting. He’d often try to slip away from Aurelia, eyes and attention constantly wandering.
Helena weighed the risk of approaching him. If her suspicions were correct, it would be vital that she escape before Ferron returned. If she acted pen the doorsprematurely, she might doom them both.
Better unconfirmed suspicions than anything concrete for Ferron to from the city,discover.
She was grateful for the choice when Ferron returned without warning.
He seemed tired. A sense of exhaustion hung about him, but he grew sharp and focused once Helena was in his sights.
“Stroud will be here tomorrow,” he said at last. “She’s concerned about . Ferron wasyour physical condition.” f his absence.Helena stiffened. “I’ve been walking. There’s been nothing different.”
“She’ll arrive after lunch,” was all he said before leaving. “Make sure you’re in your room.”
Stroud arrived without Mandl and made Helena strip to her underclothes and stand shivering in front of her. Stroud walked around her, fingers trailing over Helena’s shoulders, resonance sinking into her skin.
“Don’t they feed you?” Stroud finally asked, sucking her teeth as she paused, squeezing Helena’s arm and then pushing two fingers against her stomach. “You’re showing signs of malnutrition. What are you eating?”
Helena’s skin hurt from the cold, the air piercing straight to her bones. “K- Kitchen scraps,” she said, shivering.
“What?” Stroud drew back, looking Helena up and down. “Describe exactly what you’ve been eating.”
Helena swallowed, trying to concentrate. “Um. It’s all boiled together, some grains, vegetable peels, cores, and sometimes meat trimmings. When they’re here, I think what’s left on the plates is put in, too. But they haven’t been, so there’s not been much meat lately.”
“That’s what we feed the thralls. Why are you eating that?”
Helena blinked at this revelation. It made sense, but she was too cold to muster emotion at the news. “Because I’m a prisoner. I don’t think they thought it necessary to feed me well.”
“You are a”—she paused as though debating what to call Helena—“an asset. The Ferrons are supposed to be feeding you properly. That is not nearly enough nutrition, it’s no wonder you’ve been so sickly.” Stroud’s expression onvinced thatgrew irate. She turned and went to the door. One of the necrothrall maids was waiting outside.
“I want the High Reeve. Here. In person. Now.”
Ferron entered a few minutes later wearing a scowl, barely glancing at Helena, who was still shivering in her underclothes. “You summoned me?”
“Is there a reason you’re starving her?” Stroud said, her hard fingers digging into Helena’s arm, lifting it and turning her. “Look at her. You complain about her fevers while feeding her little more than kitchen scraps.”
Ferron finally looked at Helena properly. “Pardon?” e grew sharp“She isn’t a necrothrall,” Stroud said sharply. “She needs real food. You can’t expect her to handle transference if you’re starving her.”
Ferron said nothing, but Helena could have sworn he’d somehow paled. “I assumed she’d been eating as Aurelia and I do.” His fingers flexed. “Aurelia has always managed the menu. I will make enquiries.”
“I want her eating full meals. As much as she wants, with proper cuts of meat and vegetables. And porridge or broths in between until she’s healthy.”
Ferron gave a tight nod. “She’ll be fed properly. I will ensure it.”
“Thank you, High Reeve. See that she does.” Stroud turned back to Helena.
Ferron didn’t move, still looking at Helena until Stroud glanced over her shoulder at him. “Perhaps go see if there’ll be a proper meal tonight.”
He blinked, gave a short nod, and left.
r bones. “K-“Lie down,” Stroud said as soon as the door closed. “I want to examine things more closely.”
Helena was so cold, she was grateful to climb onto her bed. Even Stroud’s cold fingers felt warm as she appraised Helena’s limbs and then worked up to her abdomen, pressing down with the heel of her hand, feeling at Helena’s organs.
Helena hadn’t really considered malnutrition as something happening to her. Food had often been in short supply during the war, and those who fought were prioritised; they needed consistent and high-quality food.
Noncombatants made do with what was left.
After the Resistance lost the ports, there’d been shortages of almost everything.
Stroud’s resonance made Helena’s stomach lurch. She gagged and tried to
is not nearlysit up.
“None of that. Lie still.” ll maids wasBefore she could protest, Stroud’s fingers were digging in against the base of her skull, and Helena’s eyes rolled back, unconsciousness swallowing her.
WHEN HELENA WOKE, STROUD WAS gone. She felt terrible with a heavy sense of disorientation throughout her body, her vision blurring, and there was a sharply painful bruise near her left hip as if she’d been stabbed with a needle.
Helena rubbed at it, trying to think what kind of injections might be necessary to treat malnutrition, but her mind was too foggy for much coherence.
That night, there was a knock, and the maid brought in a tray with a full meal. Meat in a red wine sauce, two different vegetable dishes, one with cheese, and thick slices of soft fluffy bread with butter spread in a generous layer across each one, and even a stewed pear for dessert.
Helena gorged herself, despite knowing she might end up sick from it. She was starving.
She was still eating when Ferron walked in, standing over her to inspect her meal.
“It would seem that I’m obliged to personally see to everything,” he said with a scowl as he stepped back. “You could have mentioned it.”
“If I were to start complaining, the food would not be the first thing I’d bring up,” she said, dragging her spoon down the side of the pear and eating
it in tiny savouring bites, refusing to be hurried by him.
He inclined his head, expression still irritated, and went over to the nearer window. Helena deliberately took slower bites, chewing luxuriantly. worked up toWhen she was finally finished eating, she thought she might pop. She wanted to curl up and sleep, but Ferron nodded pointedly at her head. She sighed and seated herself on the edge of her bed, hating how routine it had all become. Even her dreams felt routine.
She kept dreaming of Ilva and Crowther. And Lila crying. Over and over, the memories seemed to haunt her.
Ferron also seemed to find them interesting. He watched them several times before he moved on to the time she’d spent spying on Lancaster, wondering if he might be there to save her.
He drew his hand away.
As her vision returned, she found herself lying flat on her back in the bed, his face just above hers.
“Lancaster will be one of the Undying soon,” he said. “In belated recognition for his exceptional services during the war.”
There was something sneering in the way he said it, but if he meant to plunge Helena into despair, he failed. If Lancaster wasn’t one of the Undying yet, that made it even more likely that he might be a spy for the Resistance.
He’d have to seem trustworthy to get this close to Helena without raising with a needle.suspicion.
“Are you one?” she asked. She’d assumed for so long, but she’d begun to wonder if he might be something else entirely.
He gave a slow smirk. “What do you think?”
She shook her head, uncertain.
The smirk faded, but he kept looking at her, and his eyes grew darker than she’d ever seen them.
She realised then that she was lying on a bed beneath him. Heat flooded under her skin, and her spine prickled as she sat up quickly, folding her arms.
He stepped back, straightening. “If you have any hopes involving Lancaster, you should let them die.”
LILA WAS SEATED ON THE edge of Helena’s bed, eyebrows knit together, studying her. No scar on her face.
“Are you—” Lila looked away and seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “Are you not all right, anymore? Is that why you spoke and why there’s all the trainees now?”
Helena looked sharply at Lila, but Lila was unfastening a buckle and didn’t meet her stare. ine it had all“No. I’m fine. The trainees are because Matias hopes to get rid of me.”
“Oh, good. I mean, not good, but that makes sense,” Lila said, and cleared her throat. “I can see why you’re not thrilled about them, then.”
Helena forced a laugh.
“You know, you can talk about—anything with me, if you want.” Lila looked over at her.
“No.” Helena shook her head. “I don’t need to talk. There’s—no point in talking, and as I have now been reminded publicly, I’m not a fighter. I don’t know anything about what war really is. So—what would I even have to say?”
Lila’s prosthetic leg clicked as she shifted and then said, “I think the
hospital’s worse than the battlefield.”
Helena went very still. the Undying“I realised it when I was in there for my leg.” Lila’s gaze was faraway, eyebrows furrowing. “At the front—everything’s so focused, you know. The rules are simple. We win some. We lose some. You get hit sometimes. You hit back. You get days to recover if it’s bad. But—” She looked down, her fingers tapping absently along the place where her prosthetic was joined to her thigh. “—in the hospital, every battle looks like losing. I can’t imagine what that’s like.” She looked at Helena. “All you see in there is the worst of it.”
Helena said nothing.
Lila sighed and unclasped more pieces of her armour, leaving them all over Helena’s bed. “When Soren told me what you said—I don’t agree, but I get it.” ng her arms.Lila nudged her with her elbow and stood. “Even if the trainees are just because of Matias meddling, I’m glad you’re getting more time off. I think you’ve needed that—some space from it all.”
HELENA SPENT DAYS REPLAYING THE conversation. She bitterly missed having people to talk to, who cared about what she said.
She’d had trainees?
She remembered Stroud mentioning there being other healers like Elain Boyle, but Helena had assumed they’d come from somewhere else.
She couldn’t imagine Falcon Matias approving the addition of more healers.
Ilva Holdfast had worked very hard to make Helena’s vivimancy palatable to the Resistance. She’d declared that it was the gods’ will that the Eternal , and clearedFlame had a vivimancer in their ranks, and that Helena had been born, found, and brought to Paladia destined to become a healer, so that if Luc was struck down in battle, vivimancy might save him; a resonance of corruption purified by Sol’s will.
Helena had needed to leave the city and go into the mountains to train with an ascetic monk. Matias had been a Shrike at the time, living in a hut near the Holdfast estate, acting as a spiritual advisor for the family.
He’d disliked healers on principle and hated Helena the moment he laid eyes on her.
Nothing about her fell in line with what he regarded as appropriate for a healer. He’d been more an obstacle than a teacher, but Helena was stubborn, and familiar enough with medicine to manage her own training. She was determined to become a healer, whether he wanted it or not.
When Ilva began demanding that Helena be sent back to the city because Luc had gone to the front lines, Matias tried to resist, denying Helena’s n, her fingerssuitability until Ilva practically bribed him with the offer that Luc would make him Falcon, a religious rank high enough to join the Council, and even then he agreed only on the condition that if Helena was to be the Eternal Flame’s healer, then she would heal all who served Sol’s sacred cause.
The Principate, after all, was not above others, but first among equals.
What would make Matias approve trainees?
Helena couldn’t help but think wistfully about Lila.
When Helena came back as a healer, it had been inadvisable for her to seem too close to Luc. A childhood friendship was all very well, but someone like Helena couldn’t appear to have undue influence over a figure like the Principate.
Paladia’s survival depended on the Resistance’s unwavering faith in Luc.
If his judgement was questioned, all Paladia would suffer the consequences.
Certain sacrifices had to be made.
Lila as Luc’s paladin primary had been the closest to Luc that Helena was allowed to be after that. Lila had been primary …
Helena blinked.
There’d been a paladin secondary. Soren. Lila’s twin brother. Where was
Soren?
Helena’s head throbbed.
Why would she forget Soren? He— A face briefly flickered in her memory. Helena’s mind swerved violently, born, found,as if recoiling. No. She tried to focus.
Soren. Remember Soren. What happened to him? tion purifiedHer skin crawled, a painful ghastly ache rose through her body, her lungs seized as if there were water inside them, and her vision turned a violent red. to train withWhen her head cleared, her temples were throbbing. a hut near theWhat had she been thinking about?
Something about—Lila?
but someone
Helena blinked.
There’d been a paladin secondary. Soren. Lila’s twin brother. Where was
Soren?
Helena’s head throbbed.
Why would she forget Soren? He— A face briefly flickered in her memory. Helena’s mind swerved violently, as if recoiling. No. She tried to focus.
Soren. Remember Soren. What happened to him?
Her skin crawled, a painful ghastly ache rose through her body, her lungs seized as if there were water inside them, and her vision turned a violent red.
When her head cleared, her temples were throbbing.
What had she been thinking about?
Something about—Lila?