Page 162 of Alchemised
Ferron was late. Again. He was often late, but she was too anxious to wait this time. She was pulling her satchel onto her shoulder just as the door opened.
She flinched when he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Her heart lurched when she heard it click and lock.
“I’m late,” he said.
Helena had to focus and make herself breathe before she could speak. “Are we—t-training again this week?”
“No,” he said quickly. “No. I won’t do that to you again.”
She gave a short nod, but she knew better than to believe him now. He’d redefine the terms of the deal every time it was convenient to him.
She watched him warily.
He started to open his mouth but then stopped, his hand curling into a fist.
“What?” she snapped, glaring at him, sick of waiting for what he’d do next.
He avoided her eyes, looking at the floor.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said.
She gave a brittle laugh. “Well, I always expected you would.”
Anger flashed in his eyes as he looked up at her.
She was beginning to make sense of him now. He thought he was better than the other Undying. He resented anything that lumped him in with them. That was why he’d backtracked and tried to pretend that she had autonomy in the arrangement. But no matter what he wanted to tell himself, he was cut from the same cloth as all the rest of them.
She glared at him. “If anyone had died last week because I was too injured to work, that would have been on your head.”
He scoffed. “Is that supposed to matter to me?”
“It would, if you were human.”
His jaw clenched. “Well, if we’re being honest today, you’re pathetic at self-defence. Worse than I expected. Which is saying something, because I have a very low opinion of you. I assumed they’d keep all their medics somewhat combat-ready.”
“The hospital is protected. That’s more practical than expecting the medical staff to be trained and practising for combat situations.”
She could tell Ferron disagreed.
“Well, you’re not in the hospital right now.” He walked around her slowly. “You’re too scrawny. No muscle at all. I don’t think I can even do anything with you in this state. I’m going to need to start you with callisthenics before I can even get anywhere with you.”
Helena’s least favourite class at the Institute had been callisthenics. “Even if I exercise, you can’t train me in anything that could hurt my hands.”
He paused. “If you get hurt, I’ll fix it.”
Helena’s head swam. It hadn’t occurred to her that if he wanted to, he could hurt her, heal her, and hurt her again, leaving no trace.
He pulled out an envelope, extending it, but when she tried to take it, he held on, studying her. “Are there food shortages?”
She said nothing, just held on to the envelope, waiting for him to let go. Crowther had been clear that Ferron should glean no intelligence from her.
His mouth hardened into a flat line. “The transport information I included for the southern quarter is likely food supplies. If they manage to seize them, tell Crowther to increase whatever your rations are.”
A WEEK LATER, ONE OF the scouting teams managed to capture and kill a chimaera, although they admitted it had already been nearly dead when they cornered it.
The corpse had been brought back for analysis, and after some debate, Helena was assigned the job of dissecting it.
The chimaeras were made with vivimancy, therefore a vivimancer would be needed to understand the process. It was the duty of the Eternal Flame to study the practices of their enemies.
