CHAPTER 56
Maius 1787
THE UNDYING USED THE FIRST NULLIUM BOMB in the middle of spring.
The Resistance had known an attack like that was coming; the use of nullium had been growing ever since the Undying had used it against Lila, and although the injuries were severe, as a combat weapon nullium was limited in its utility because of how fragile it was. As a bomb, however, it was devastating.
A few tiny pieces of shrapnel were all it took to wipe out an alchemist’s resonance. If it dissolved and was distributed through the blood, the hospital had to manually suture the wounds, administer chelating agents, and then wait for the patient’s resonance to recover.
Expert alchemical medicine combined with healing had made recovery for Resistance fighters efficient; so long as a combatant didn’t die from blood loss, injuries that in other parts of the world would take months to recover from could be healed here in days or weeks.
With nullium, however, convalescence slowed to a crawl.
The hospital had prepared as much as they could, medics and surgeons learning about manual surgery and the chymistry department producing a large supply of chelating agents, but logistics were not enough to improve morale. People were terrified. Alchemy and resonance were everything; the idea of being without was like returning to a pre-alchemical stone age.
Ilva, who took so much in stride, seemed knocked permanently off balance after Luc’s capture, failing to comprehend and proactively address the fallout.
Perhaps because she was a Lapse, she was incapable of understanding the emotional severity of the mere threat, its impact on morale.
The only bright spot was that Luc seemed to abruptly realise his responsibilities. Largely cloistered in his rooms, he suddenly reappeared at an assembly that Althorne had called to soothe Resistance unrest. Luc appeared
dressed all in white and gold, burning with righteous indignation. Physically, he was shrunken. Though his armour concealed most of it, his features were visibly gaunt. Still, it was as though his body were merely a shell now, and his soul shone through. He seemed to radiate life.
“Morrough, like every necromancer before him, wants the Resistance to be afraid, and for the Eternal Flame’s light to be extinguished,” he said, his blue eyes burning. “We will not give them that satisfaction. Paladia is ours. We built this city as a beacon; that light has protected the world from necromancy’s stain for generations. The gods are on our side. Sol is unconquerable. The laws of nature will not give victory to corruption. We will not fail; we know the rewards our ancestors received for their faithfulness and bravery, and we will taste the same!”
There was a grimness in his voice, and yet he was strangely breathtaking as he spoke, like the sun at its zenith. She could feel the mood in the air shift from uncertainty and fear to conviction. To faith.
Luc kept speaking, describing the city in the loving detail of one who knew it intimately, describing the dreams he and his father had had for Paladia’s glorious future.
The next thing Helena knew, there was a counteroffensive being assembled. Squadrons readied. Luc’s new battalion, who had not yet even seen combat together, went out with four others and seized a district of the West Island.
Helena watched from a skybridge as they all returned in a victory parade, followed by cheers. Luc was standing on the back of a lorry, Sebastian beside him, waving as they swept through the gates.
Lila had not gone. Officially it was because she was still in recovery, but the reality was that the tribunal had not yet begun, the leaders concerned over how Luc might react. If he used his power as Principate to directly oppose the Council and military leaders, there was no real means to overrule him that wouldn’t result in a complete collapse of leadership, potentially fracturing the y off balanceResistance. ss the fallout.So long as Luc acknowledged Lila as his paladin primary, Lila could ignore what the rest of the Council said—her vows were to Luc. And so Lila remained in limbo. Not cleared for combat, but not really injured anymore, either. She stood at the door of the Tower, applauding with everyone else, but ppeared at angrief shone in her face.
The counterattack had been so sudden, so brazen, the Undying had hardly mounted a defence. Similarly, the Council was blindsided by Luc’s abrupt embrace of full leadership, and left scrambling in the wake of his decisiveness. The success of the offensive made him difficult to argue with, istance to beespecially when Resistance morale rose with his ascent to claim his place on the Council.
The battles began to blur together. Except now there was a medical ward for nullium injuries, and the casualty rates skyrocketed, infections and disease becoming an increasing threat. First came overcrowding, followed by shortages in clean linens and bandages, and then the blood infections began and sickness followed.
Helena was on shift for days sometimes, ignoring Kaine’s signals unless they were messages for Crowther. Work at least kept her from wearing grooves of worry through her mind.
When she was alone, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as she twisted ne who knewKaine’s ring around and around her finger, thinking about the array sketch Wagner had drawn. Nine points.
Northern alchemy almost always used either five or eight, the elemental or celestial numbers. Those were the only array formulas even taught at the Institute, the exception being the Holdfasts’ pyromancy, which operated with a seven-point array, but Helena only knew of that because she’d helped Luc with his homework.
She’d never heard of a nine-point array. She had no idea how it was astian besidesupposed to work, and her only sample was full of obvious errors and drawn by someone wholly unfamiliar with alchemical principles.
How could she reverse what had been done to Kaine if she didn’t ncerned overunderstand the method? She moved her fingers, trying to visualise the energy ly oppose thechannels. Her mind kept going back to Soren.
She smothered the thoughts, burying them with animancy, trying to force fracturing theher mind to go around her memories of him. It kept niggling at her, though— not his destruction but the moment in which he’d died. She always tried to break the resonance connection before a patient died, but she’d been fully focused on Soren in that moment.
The energy, the sensation of it, running through her like an electric current yone else, butkept coming to mind whenever she tried to imagine channelling through a multiple of three.
It made her wonder. If Morrough could trap living souls inside bone, and the first Necromancer placed an entire town of living souls into a Stone, what would happen if someone captured the other form of energy? Had anyone ever done it?
The next time she felt a patient on the verge of death, rather than break away, she left the connection open and tried to hold the energy as it struck. It seared through her resonance, leaving her hand numb and twinging for hours.
Well, it made sense that she couldn’t just hold it. It would need a container followed byof some sort. The sunstone amulet had been … quicksilver? Or glass? Maybe crystal. She tried a variety of substances from the storerooms, smuggling odd metals and other compounds into the hospital inside her pockets, to see if the energy would channel into any of them.
Sunstones cracked, while metal set her pocket on fire. In a box shoved to the back of a storage room, she found several large chunks of obsidian.
Volcanic glass did have a higher melting point than normal glass.
She stuck a piece in her pocket.
She gripped it when she felt a patient’s vitality grow thin. He was one of the nullium patients, hit with shrapnel that had ripped apart his organs, and the infection hadn’t responded to treatment. She could force his heart to keep perated withbeating, but it would only make his death take longer; he’d die the moment she left. His skin was burning with fever, and he was gripping her hand, speaking to someone unseen, the words coming slower and slower.
She swallowed hard and kept her resonance open as his eyes went still.
The death surge ran through her like an electric shock straight into the obsidian.
Her arm went briefly numb. When sensation returned, he was dead, and the se the energyobsidian hummed warm against her fingers. She could feel it, that strange dark energy.
Her fingers trembled as she closed his eyes, pulling the sheet over his face. er, though—Had she just trapped a soul in volcano glass? She squeezed it. No. She knew what that energy felt like, the amulet and Kaine. This was different.
Still, she tried to pretend it wasn’t there while she finished her shift.
She hurried to her lab. She opened the door, and stopped short at the sight of Lila, curled up on the floor, her face swollen, eyes red.
Helena froze. Gods, the tribunal. It must have begun.
She’d hardly seen and hadn’t spoken to Lila since before Luc’s rescue.
She’d returned to her room one day to find all of Lila’s things gone and heard
about a private memorial service held for Soren only afterwards.
Stone, whatAs much as she had wanted to try to explain herself, she couldn’t, because
officially Soren had simply died.
But Luc would have told Lila the truth.
Helena stood frozen, not sure what could have possibly driven Lila here.
“Lila.” Helena set the obsidian down, moving tentatively. “Lila, what’s ng for hours.wrong? What happened?” d a containerLila stared at Helena without responding for a long time. lass? Maybe“I made a mistake,” Lila finally said, her voice barely a whisper, “I’ve muggling oddmade such a mistake.”
Helena swallowed hard. “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.”
Soren’s ghost seemed to hang between them.
“No.” Lila shook her head. “I’ve been lying to everyone. My whole life, I’ve been lying. Now—now I don’t know what to do …”
Her voice was so strained, it trailed off.
“Soren was the only person that knew,” Lila whispered. Her eyes were swimming, but the tears didn’t escape. “He always kept my secrets. Knew what to do about things. Said it was his job—looking out for me.”
“What happened?” Helena reached out tentatively.
Lila looked up and drew a deep breath, her chin trembling before she finally spoke. “I—I’m pregnant.”
Helena didn’t move. Couldn’t speak. She was too stunned to even believe the words Lila had just uttered.
To know she was pregnant meant she had to be at least two or three dead, and themonths along, and that was assuming her cycle was regular, which Helena knew it wasn’t. She’d been in the hospital at that time.
“How?” was the only question Helena could even think to ask. Never mind over his face.everything else that this meant.
Lila swallowed, her head moving jerkily, wincing when it pulled at the scars on her neck. “I know. I didn’t think I could. After—everything. I always assumed that it wasn’t even possible.”
“No,” Helena said impatiently. “I mean, yes, that too, but you weren’t pregnant when you were in the hospital. You’ve only been out for—How would you possibly know you’re pregnant?”
Lila looked down, avoiding Helena’s eyes. “That’s—that’s the secret. I ne and heardknow I’m pregnant.”
It was then that something incredibly obvious, which Helena should have realised years earlier, finally dawned on her.
Lila Bayard, who so often came back from battles nearly unscathed, who always recovered miraculously from her injuries, who adapted to a prosthetic leg in months when everyone said it would be a year. Who had never struggled to recover from an injury until she lost her resonance.
“You’re a vivimancer,” Helena said.
Lila didn’t meet her eyes as she gave a small nod. “I never used it on anyone except me. Soren a couple of times, but only when he asked. He said I couldn’t let anyone know. Not even Mum and Dad, because if people knew I wouldn’t be allowed to be Luc’s paladin.”
“All this time?” Helena said softly, startled by the sense of betrayal she felt.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you but—you know what it’s been like for you.
I couldn’t risk that, not with Luc at stake. I couldn’t be like you—fighting’s all I’m good at.”
The revelation was more than Helena felt she could process right then.
“Who’s the father?” Helena asked, as if it wasn’t completely obvious.
“You know it’s Luc.”
Helena nodded. She wanted to be angry, but her own secrets were worse, and the fact that Lila had turned to her in Soren’s absence spoke volumes.
“You’ve probably heard, they’re planning a tribunal unless I step down as paladin voluntarily.” Lila’s voice was empty and despairing. “I used to tell myself it would all pay off in the end, but the war just kept going. I didn’t ever—I mean, a few times he tried—but I told him off every time.” Lila shook her head. “Doesn’t matter, though, seems everyone thinks we’ve been fucking each other at the front lines. Doesn’t mean anything that we didn’t.” . Never mindShe looked down. “When he came back from taking that district—I know it wasn’t about me, but I felt so ruined. Being left behind and knowing I always will be now. He came and found me after and told me that he’d been thinking about me the whole time, and—” She shrugged. “Everyone thinks we are anyway, so—”
Helena rested a tentative hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right. I can take care of it. If it’s early I can get ingredients or just use vivimancy, whatever
you’d prefer. No one will know.”
“No.”
Helena stared at Lila, certain she’d misheard.
Lila drew a deep breath, avoiding her eyes. “I mean, that’s why I came. I knew you could do it, but—while I was waiting, I couldn’t stop thinking, what are the odds?” She shook her head. “I can’t remember the last time I had a prosthetica cycle. It’s been years. I didn’t think I could. I always thought Soren would be the one who’d marry and have the next generation of Bayards, but now
I’m all that’s left.”
Helena had no words.
Lila looked down, curling smaller, as if she could feel Helena’s judgement.
“It probably won’t stick. So maybe I could just wait, and—have this for a
little while.”
“And if it does—stick?” Helena asked.
Lila didn’t answer.
Helena’s chest grew tight. She wanted to say Lila was being stupid. A like for you.baby, during the war. Lila wouldn’t be the first, but still, those girls were different. Lila was an alchemist. A warrior. Neither of those things paired
with motherhood. The rules were strict.
“It won’t stick,” Lila said.
“That’s not an answer,” Helena said sharply. “What if it does? You are going to have a baby during a war when you’re already facing a tribunal. You won’t be a paladin after that. They won’t ever let you fight again.”
Lila was picking at her nails, her cuticles bleeding. “Luc’s going to leave combat to take over leadership now. Ilva’s too old to continue as steward, and there’s no one he trusts to replace her. They say that if I step down as paladin primary, they won’t call a tribunal, Sebastian will replace me, and I’ll be cleared for combat again.” Lila drew a deep breath. “I’ll be in command of my own unit. First woman.”
Lila’s voice showed no pride or excitement for what would be a historic accomplishment, because there was no chance that she could reenter combat, wing I alwaysstripped of her former rank, without the scandal following her. Her reputation been thinkingand legacy were irrevocably stained.
“If you said I was sick with something, no one would know I’m pregnant —and if it doesn’t take, I’ll go back into service like it never happened.”
“Or you could retire from active combat and train recruits who could use someone with your experience,” Helena said. “Those aren’t your only two options.”
“I’m not going to retire. That’s not how it works for us Bayards,” Lila said, her blue eyes snapping. She winced. “Sorry. People keep telling me that it’s
not all over, but—” She scoffed. “—I know how it works. What will be remembered. It won’t be anything I ever did in combat.” ast time I hadNow Helena understood. A pregnancy altered the narrative. It didn’t erase the scandal, but it did reframe it; instead of a violation of vows that nearly led to calamity, it became a love story.
The Principate had already been in desperate need of an heir, but it was hard to make it a stated priority when Luc’s life was supposed to be shielded s judgement.with divinity, and Luc had, for obvious reasons, always been resistant to the idea of a political marriage, which was what the Council wanted.
A Holdfast heir could reinvigorate the Resistance. How could it be a doomed war when there was such a tangible symbol of the future?
Of course Lila would prefer that version of her story, rather than the alternatives she was faced with.
Lila had always seemed unstoppable, but now Helena could see all the cracks she’d hidden. The desires she’d never let herself have.
Helena knew something about that.
“Will Luc know?”
Lila drew a breath, shaking her head. “No. I think it would distract him. tribunal. YouHe’s under so much pressure, and the transition will be a lot. If he knew and then it came to nothing—it would crush him, to have hoped.”
“Does Luc—want children?” Helena asked hesitantly. She didn’t think steward, andshe’d ever heard Luc speak of children. His hopes for the future were of the wn as paladinwar being over, of travelling. Then again, the matter of Lila had always been carefully unspoken. Helena had known, but he’d never admitted it outright, not even to her.
Lila nodded. “He talked about them that night. How he’s not like his father, he doesn’t want to just do his duty. That he wants to have a family for himself, not because of the Principate, or because he needs an heir, but just er reputationbecause he loves someone so much that he makes one. That’s what this would be.”
Helena swallowed hard. She still hated this, but she couldn’t refuse Lila.
“I’ll need to talk to Crowther and see what the options are.”
Lila’s face screwed up. “Why would you go to him? He’s awful. Luc can’t stand him.”
Helena looked away. “He’s the most pragmatic choice. I don’t have the ds,” Lila said,seniority to quarantine someone. I don’t think you want Elain or Matias
involved. The choices are Crowther or Ilva, and Ilva hasn’t been very reliable lately.”
“Fine,” Lila sighed, wincing. “Crowther, then.” hat nearly led
ul. Luc can’t
involved. The choices are Crowther or Ilva, and Ilva hasn’t been very reliable lately.”
“Fine,” Lila sighed, wincing. “Crowther, then.”