Alchemised, page 82
“Mine. You’re mine,” he said as he kissed her.
“Always.”
Chapter 62
Augustus 1787
News of the Undying’s alliance with Hevgoss was of no surprise.
Letters were dispatched to the surrounding countries, urging them to object, to pressure Hevgoss into withdrawing, but there was little response. Even Novis was slow to reply and tepid in their condemnation.
“Let’s focus on the bright side: This alliance with Hevgoss is a clear sign that our obsidian offensive is having an effect,” General Hutchens said with casual assurance to the assembled members of the Eternal Flame.
On paper, Hutchens had an excellent record—he’d been in command of the ports and only given them up after the bombing because the Resistance couldn’t maintain control of them without leaving Headquarters vulnerable. Not only had Hutchens managed to extensively sabotage the ports prior to retreating, but he’d done it with almost no casualties. He was a good choice, but he was also a true believer in Luc and Sol and the Eternal Flame, and his confidence in their eventual victory was implicit.
Details like supplies and the humdrum labour of war tended to fall beneath his consideration. Sol would provide.
Crowther could not and did not trust him, and it was creating an ever-widening gap between the true circumstances of the war and how Hutchens and the rest of the Council understood them.
“What we need to do is increase our obsidian supply and hit them hard before the Hevgotian mercenaries arrive.”
Helena wanted to throw up at the mere thought of producing more obsidian. Even if she could, only so many people died in circumstances in which she could be present.
“We lost more than half of our forces and territory the last time we were about to perform a similar offensive.” With all the upheaval in the Council, Crowther was forced to speak for himself, and even when his comments were pertinent, he lacked the charisma to make anyone agree with him. “While I am optimistic about the effect of our obsidian, there is a risk that Hevgotian mercenaries means more nullium usage. Hevgoss has few alchemists; the battalions arriving will be from the prisons.”
Hutchens shook his head. “I doubt we’ll see more nullium. I don’t think they can afford to blow up any more territory. The dust affected the West Island, too.”
“We’ll plan better this time,” Luc said. He had a certain tone that he used in meetings now. It was deeper, more authoritative. In the past he’d speak tentatively unless riled. “Regardless of what happened in the past, we can’t afford to lose more. The Undying have never wanted living soldiers before. This change in tactics is an undeniable sign that we’re doing something right. Ask anyone who’s been in combat lately—they’ve pulled all the Undying out, living and lich alike, it’s all necrothralls and Aspirants. The obsidian’s changed everything. Negotiating for an alliance is an admission they can’t win on their own. I’m with Hutchens, I say we hit them hard. The Undying are trying to go to ground; we’ll dig them out.”
“Even if it were possible to win so decisively, there’s still the risk of Hevgoss trying to sweep in and collect the spoils of war regardless of which side emerges victor,” Crowther said. “This may be the time to negotiate with Novis. Reticent as they’ve been in recent months, I doubt the queen is pleased by the threat of Hevgoss obtaining Paladia’s resources. With the right incentives, she may renew her support. Perhaps a high-profile diplomatic visit as a show of respect—”
“I’m not leaving Paladia,” Luc said, cutting Crowther off with a look of overt disdain. “You think it would inspire confidence in our troops if they see me leave on a diplomatic mission amid rumours about reinforcements coming from Hevgoss?”
Crowther’s eyebrows pinched together. “You would be the most effective negotiator. Your appearance in the Novis court would be a greater compliment than any other resources or representatives we could afford to send. Any proxy would—”
“It’s out of the question. If you want to send someone to Novis, by all means. But I’m not leaving Paladia.” There was furious vehemence in Luc’s voice.
Helena had known that Crowther intended to make such a proposal. He’d even weighed the possibility of revealing Lila’s pregnancy, trying to coerce Luc into taking the trip under the pretence of escorting her and his “heir” to safety. However, Lila was still adamant about concealing the pregnancy. To reveal it in the context of her fleeing to Novis would be a dangerous gamble.
In the end, it was Matias who went, along with a box of gold that Luc transmuted. It wasn’t what anyone wanted, but as Helena watched Matias ceremonially depart, an old knot in her chest unravelled at seeing him gone.
He was barely across the border before the Resistance was readying for battle.
It was suicide. They didn’t have the combatants or nearly enough resources for it. Scavenging groups went into the ruins, trying to recover what weapons and armour they could. They were strictly banned from bringing back any of the dead. Those who’d died in the fallout zone had to be left until a means of safe ceremonial disposal was possible.
Anyone who wanted to fight could fight, alchemist or not, adult or not, man or not. There was no time to train anyone. They didn’t even have weapons for them. There were boys and girls practising with sticks, trying to make themselves slingshots. No armour because there was none in their sizes.
The sight made Helena sick.
They were battle fodder. They’d be slaughtered in minutes.
But they would do that rather than allow necromancy. This doomed assault was relying on a miracle, on the conviction that by risking everything, they would be rewarded. Glory and blessings and eternity to those who believed.
Just as Sol had blessed Orion.
But there was no Ilva now to create a miracle.
“I want to build a bomb,” she said, entering Crowther’s office in the middle of the night and finding him sitting there, wide awake. He was always awake. His already narrow face had grown skeletal. He looked eighty, but she knew he was not even fifty.
“I didn’t know that explosives were anywhere within your field of expertise,” he said with dry contempt.
She sat without invitation. Crowther sighed.
Helena had once thought that Kaine had tested the outermost limits of her capacity for internal conflict, but Crowther was a new realm entirely. She had never hated and needed someone so intensely.
He was the only means by which she could do anything meaningful, the only member of the Eternal Flame who listened to her at all. Yet he held her obedience at Kaine’s throat like a knife.
The hunt for spies within the Undying had intensified. All their other informants had disappeared without a trace. The risk of using Kaine or even the information he sent was too great.
“I used to help Luc with his pyromancy fundamentals. I’m familiar with the technical processes of incendiary function. The rules apply with or without resonance,” she said.
One of Crowther’s eyebrows rose, and the fingers on his left hand fluttered, ignition rings brushing against each other.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while…” Her throat was aching from nervousness. “We’ll use the obsidian in the same way the Undying used the nullium bomb. We could use nullium, too.”
“Wouldn’t an explosion melt the obsidian?”
“No. Shiseo has some experience with pyrotechnics; they’re used in Eastern celebrations. Between the two of us, there’s a decent amount of technical knowledge. If we build it right, we can harness the explosive force but limit the heat. It won’t be anything near the scale of their bombing, but we don’t need it to be.”
“You are remarkably confident for someone with nothing but a basic alchemy certification.”
Helena’s jaw tensed, but she pressed on. “We have a lot of scrap obsidian. Knapping an edge with obsidian leaves a lot of discarded shards and pieces that are either too thin or too small for use. Those are all I’ll need, so it won’t interfere with production.”
She pulled out a folded stack of papers. “We’ll need these components forged in the Athanor Furnace.”
He glanced at the designs. “I can’t make any promises. But…” He sighed. “I suppose it might be of use.”
* * *
Helena was both desperate and terrified of what was to come. If the attack was a success, if the bomb could do enough to weaken Morrough, could Luc kill him?
If he did, what would happen to Kaine?
When she slept, she had endless nightmares of digging through Morrough’s corpse in the darkness with her bare hands, arms coated in his blood, ripping out his bones, trying desperately to find the piece that held Kaine’s life. In her dreams, Luc always approached, like a rising sun.
She would plead for time, try to explain herself, but Luc never heard. Every time she burned, too.
In the cold light of day, she knew it wouldn’t be like that. She would be in Headquarters, in the hospital. She wouldn’t know anything until it was too late.
Every day she wondered if she was working towards her own doom and Kaine’s destruction.
After how poorly he’d reacted to Helena’s mere involvement in the war effort, she didn’t tell him about the bomb. It wasn’t difficult to hide it; he was so busy with the ambassador, they scarcely had any time to do more than exchange urgent information.
It was only when she and Shiseo completed all the components that she went to the roof and called for him. She had to wait a long time. When Kaine arrived, he was dressed in formal attire, sharp and polished.
“I can’t stay,” he said. “What is it?”
“We have a new weapon,” she said quickly. “Is there a time or place where a lot of the Undying will be in proximity? Somewhere you won’t be. It could be planted up to two days in advance.”
His expression hardened. “A bomb?”
She gave a tense nod.
“Obsidian?”
“And nullium, so you need to be well clear.”
He nodded and looked at her pointedly. “I hope they’re not building it at Headquarters.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s off-site.”
He exhaled. “Well, the Resistance is taking this final assault seriously at least. The Hevgotian force will cross the western border within the week, but several militocrats and officials will arrive in a day. There’s to be a welcome banquet for them the following evening. Most of the Undying will be in attendance; even Morrough may be there briefly.”
She nodded. That would work. “Can you place it without suspicion? And then get away?”
His eyes softened. “No one pays attention to necrothralls the way they should. They assume anyone using them must be on their side. If I rip out the reanimation, I can take over someone else’s and use them to make a delivery. It won’t be easily traced back to me.”
“And you won’t be there? When it goes off.” She was afraid that he was evading the question.
Standing there, the two of them looked worlds apart. He was clean and pristine, in a tailored uniform, wearing a row of intricate medals, while she stood ragged, in male-sized standard-issue clothes washed to threads.
“How far away do I need to be?”
“Far enough not to breathe it in. There will be micro-shards in the air. We don’t know what effect they’ll have. You should be far away.”
“I’ll run an errand around that time. The ambassador enjoys making himself inconvenient. I’m sure I can convince him to want something unreasonable and distant.”
She nodded. “Make it a long errand. I’ll bring it tomorrow evening.”
“No.” His voice cracked like a whip, and all the softness vanished. “Crowther’s not using you to transport a bomb.”
She shook her head. “It won’t be activated until the components are joined, and there’s a countdown. I’m not going to get blown up carrying it,” she said. “You can’t put it together on your own if you don’t know how to join the pieces.”
“I don’t care. Tell Crowther to figure out another way.” He’d turned bloodlessly pale, that inhuman gleaming rising beneath his skin.
“But if I don’t come,” she said, ready to resort to anything if he’d just cooperate, “that means I won’t see you again until—until after.”
He didn’t waver. “Then I’ll see you after. Send someone else.”
Her breath caught in her lungs. “Kaine…”
He glared at her. “I found you after a bombing. I had to watch them cut you open, trying to get the shrapnel out. You nearly died so many times on the operating table, I lost count. If you’d been an inch closer to the blast, that shrapnel would have gone through your heart. You want me to set a bomb, I will do it, but you will not touch it. Do you understand?”
She swallowed bitterly, grateful that she hadn’t told him any details that might have revealed her involvement. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”
She turned to go. There was so much she needed to do. Take inventory, finish the bomb, help prep the hospital. She’d been assigned to the casualty ward again.
Kaine pulled her to him. “Come back here in a few hours.”
She shook her head. “Now’s hardly the time.”
He didn’t seem to remember that he was the one who couldn’t linger. He wouldn’t let go. She wished that all of this had begun sooner; there was so much time they’d missed.
“All right,” she said finally, giving in. “But you have to leave now.”
He let go slowly. “I’ll call for you.”
After reporting to Crowther, she headed to the off-site lab where she and Shiseo used their resonance in tandem to assemble the final components. They’d built the bomb to be as compact as possible, but it was still nearly the size of a child. It would need to be placed in the centre of a room.
Bombs themselves were not a new alchemical development, but they’d been banned for almost a hundred years after it was decided they were uncivilised. Although banning them had done nothing to stop their development; Hevgoss was famously partial to such technology, viewing it as an equaliser against alchemists.
With the right manipulation of the air and flames, Luc held firebombs in his fingertips. A great deal of his homework had involved arrays and technical studies, drilling all the various ways in which fire could be manipulated and weaponised. Helena had utilised much of it.
The trick had been designing something that would cause a powerful explosion without melting their obsidian.
Shiseo had taught her a technique for a combination alloy fusion utilising dual array transmutation. It was complicated and dangerous. Even with all the arrays stabilising their resonance, Helena burned several fingertips nearly to the bone.
“Are you all right?” Shiseo asked as she sat trying to quickly regenerate the tissue.
Her fingertips hurt so much, it was hard to even feel her resonance, but years of practice made it natural to soothe the damaged nerve endings and regenerate them. Later she’d fix the dermal layer so that it wouldn’t be obvious to the eye.
“It’s nothing,” she finally managed to say, blinking hard and staring at her hands, at the lines that ran across her fingers and palm. Out of habit, she pressed her fingers against her sternum, feeling the faint dip in the bone. The scar had faded some, but the ache where the bone had split lingered. “Is it done?”
He set the two pieces on the worktable, and she eyed them wearily.
He looked at her. “We’ll finish this tomorrow. Your hands need to recover, and you need rest.”
She gave him a faint smile. “I will tonight.”
* * *
She stayed preoccupied until late into the night, rechecking the medical inventory. Her epinephrine injections were nearly out, but there was no record of who’d taken them. Helena left a brusque note. If Elain was going to run everything, she could at least enforce the rules.
She was rolling a mountain of sterilised bandages into spools when her ring burned.
Amaris barely landed; Kaine swept her off the roof and they were airborne. The instant they were inside, he had her pinned against the wall, his lips ravenous on hers.
She gripped him tightly. Her fingertips were still numb, but she hardly noticed.
His hands slid up until her face was cradled in them. His forehead pressed to hers, breath mingling a moment before he kissed her again, drawing her farther inside. Their every step hurried. They were always running out of time.
Someday, she promised herself, someday I am going to love him in a moment that isn’t stolen.
“Are you all right?” he asked once they were inside, where it was lit enough that he could look at her.
He reached out, and she knew that if he touched her, he’d use his resonance and realise her hands had been recently injured, so she caught his hand in hers, curling his fingers closed and clasping it against her chest.
“Yes.” She nodded. “Now I’m all right.”
He stared at her, and she knew she looked tired, thin, and so sallow from being always indoors with little natural light. The bombing had broken most of the windows, and even the few that survived were boarded up and sealed in case the wind brought the nullium towards Headquarters again.
“I should have called you sooner.” His thumb traced along her cheekbone.
She shook her head. “It wouldn’t have been worth the risk. It’s dangerous for you to fly so near like that. Someone could shoot you with obsidian.” A tremor ran through her just saying it aloud. “We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s stupid to take this risk.”
