Page 145 of Alchemised
The sky above them burst into flames with a crackling roar, drowning out her words.
“Sorry, you were saying?” Luc asked.
“You should come, Hel,” Lila said as she mopped her face with a towel. “Luc’s been going on about this new thing he’s doing for weeks, and none of us has any idea what he’s talking about.”
Helena’s heart quickened, and she dared a smile. “I guess I have to help, then.”
“You guess,” Luc grumbled as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her along with them all. “You should be delighted. I’m delightful.”
Helena laughed.
She had no idea what had him in such a good mood, but she was glad of it. Kaine Ferron was a small price to pay if it meant there were moments like this again.
“Marino.”
Crowther’s voice was like a knife through her back.
She flinched, freezing in her tracks.
Crowther was standing behind them in the corridor. “Marino, I need to discuss the hospital inventory sheet you turned in last night,” he said, gesturing in the opposite direction.
Luc spoke first, his voice unusually cool. “I’m sure it can wait, Jan. I need Hel for something.”
“I apologise, Principate, but it cannot,” Crowther said, his voice mild, but his eyes boring a hole through Helena. “It’s a matter of some urgency.”
Helena started to speak, but Luc squeezed her shoulder and smiled, all teeth. “Sorry. I need her.”
Crowther’s eyebrows rose. “Are you injured?”
Luc stiffened. “No. She’s helping me with something related to pyromancy.”
Everything about Crowther seemed to sharpen, like a cat extending its claws, but he bowed. “If you require help with your pyromancy, I would be more than happy to advise. I was personally trained by your family.”
“I’ll certainly keep that in mind,” Luc said in a tone of false civility.
“I am always at the service of the Principate,” Crowther said, inclining his head. “And as such, I must insist that Marino come with me. The matter of inventory may sound trivial, but it is of vital importance that the hospital is properly equipped; it can make the difference between life or death for our soldiers.” His gaze flicked to Lila, then Soren, then Alister, and onwards, resting on each one of them, as if to insinuate that Luc was choosing Helena’s companionship over their lives.
Luc stood silent. Helena could feel his rising resentment, a pressure growing in the air.
A standoff like this could only hurt the Resistance. Ferron’s spying would be of little use if Luc disregarded information from Crowther out of dislike.
“He’s right, I should go. Sorry, Luc,” she said as she stepped away. She looked back. “Next time.”
Lila’s eyebrows were drawn together, but she didn’t speak. It wasn’t a paladin’s place to speak in situations like this. Soren looked resigned but unsurprised, as Lila noticed; she cast a sharp, interrogative look at her twin.
Luc forced a smile. “Of course. I’m holding you to that.”
WHEN THEY’D GONE, LEAVING HELENA alone with Crowther, his vaguely congenial expression vanished as he looked at her.
“You are a known advocate for necromancy with entirely conditional clearance now. Whatever allowances Ilva has permitted in the past, consider them all revoked until you have results that would make the effort of rehabilitating you worth it.”
Crowther’s words were still ringing in her ears as she set out for the wetlands. There was heavy fog hanging over the river, bringing with it a cold that penetrated to the bones, but there was no smell of blood or miasma, no smoke filling her lungs. Even before the war, being outside within the city never really felt like being outside.
The wetlands were too flooded to traverse, and she was forced to forage along the banks. There was a large copse of willows just below the dam.
Willow bark was best before the sap began to run. While its efficacy paled against laudanum, it could provide some minor pain relief and was also good for reducing inflammation, for managing fevers, and as a disinfectant for wounds. They were getting dangerously low on antiseptic, too.
She harvested ruthlessly, leaving all the stripped branches behind. It was mindless and frigid work.
