Page 174 of Alchemised
Helena stood, studying the stark world around her, cast in black and silver.
She felt lost. Kaine’s injury was eating into her detachment. She could feel herself losing focus. Now that he was showing signs of recovery, she couldn’t let herself forget her task.
Hold his attention. Make him loyal. Or obsessed. Whichever came more readily. As vital as his information was, he remained a liability if his service was solely at his own discretion.
Undying. Murderer. Spy. Target. Tool.
She repeated the list to herself, but her conviction in them rang hollow.
The motives Crowther attributed to Kaine felt like an ill-fitted façade, something that Kaine hid behind. Helena was an alchemist; she was not in the habit of manipulating or altering things until she understood their nature.
She crossed the bridge, heading towards Headquarters, but a rain garden caught her eye. She’d passed it countless times but never stopped. Tonight something drew her. It had probably been pretty once but was neglected now. In the middle of the stream sat a shrine to the goddess Luna.
Acknowledgements of Luna were a rare thing in Paladia. Outright snubbing one of the gods was regarded as dangerous, but she was rarely recognised except as part of the Quintessence.
In Paladia, Luna was regarded as fickle and vain, treacherous as the tides. According to the Faith, it was because of Luna’s inconstant nature that Sol had birthed Lumithia from his own heart, placing her in the night sky so that mankind would not fear the dark. Luna, envious of Lumithia’s greater brilliance, had sought to drown the world in retribution. Lumithia had faced Luna in a celestial battle so devastating, it had rained fire across the earth. After the battle, Lumithia settled in the sky and—to repair the destruction caused by the Great Disaster—bestowed the gifts of alchemy upon mankind. Meanwhile Luna, remorseless even in defeat, continued to express her fury by keeping the ocean and sea frothing with her endless jealousy, only calming when she ruled the skies alone.
Millennia later and Luna remained reviled, small and insignificant compared with Lumithia’s brilliant beauty and power.
The statue of Luna was worn featureless, leaving little more than a vague figure behind.
The Paladian treatment of Luna had been a shock when Helena first arrived. She’d known of Paladia’s great devotion to Sol and Lumithia, but the very concept of religion was different.
The islands of Etras had little metal for alchemy, and being in constant proximity to the sea meant that Etrasians regarded Lumithia as the one responsible for the severe tidal shifts that ruled them. In their myths, Lumithia was a violent interloper who’d sought to destroy the earth, and Luna had thrown herself into Lumithia’s path. The act had left Luna so grievously wounded, she nearly fell from the sky, and the seas had tried to rise from their beds to catch her. Lumithia, chastened by this act of self-sacrifice, was quieted from her violence and came to share Luna’s vigil over the night sky. But the seas did not forget: They still rose in rage when Lumithia waxed full, only quieting in her absence.
Because of this, in Etras, Luna did not merely rule the seas; she was also regarded as the patron goddess of protection, an intercessor. A mother.
Helena picked up a smooth stone from the creek.
In Etras, to pray to Luna, they’d balanced rocks in stacks along the beach, each stone a prayer for the tides to carry to her.
There would be no tides here to wash it away, but Helena had always loved the meditative focus of the ritual. She made a neat stack, the first stone Luc, then Lila, and Soren, Matron Pace, the medics and nurses and trainees in the hospital, Shiseo, Ilva (begrudgingly), the Eternal Flame, and the Resistance.
The tower grew until it wobbled dangerously.
Helena held one last stone. She hesitated.
If she knocked the tower down while building it, it would be for naught. She almost put the stone back.
She placed it.
Don’t make me responsible for Kaine Ferron’s death.
The stack wobbled, threatening collapse. Then it settled.
Her throat thickened, and a weight in her chest lifted, as if the universe was telling her it was possible.
A southern ritual had no place in the North, but she’d given everything for the war, and it had not been enough.
Superstition was all she had left.
CHAPTER 34
Julius 1786
SHE NOTICED THE STREAKS OF SILVER WHILE treating Kaine’s back. They were just barely visible at his temple, glimmers of silver-white threaded through his dark hair.
She stopped and leaned closer, inspecting them. “Did this just start?”
