Page 177 of Alchemised
“The procedure will take place tomorrow, when Sol is at his zenith.” Matias’s tongue smacked again. “Go purify yourself in preparation.”
Helena left, her head hollow, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t bring Luc into this. He was already shattered by the death and wouldn’t want an autopsy at all, but the Council was right: They needed to know what had been done.
She spent her evening researching autopsy methods until it was time to head to the Outpost. She felt almost comatose with dread and was grateful for a routine to escape to.
Ferron was in his usual place, a tumbler dangling from his fingers, but the furniture in the room had all been shoved to one side. His expression was languorous, eyelids lowered, but a sharp, almost silver gleam glittered beneath his lashes.
Helena didn’t ask. She had her own preoccupations.
It was undeniable that he was in one of his moods. There was an edge to him, a strange quality in the way his eyes landed on her when she arrived. Not his typical resentment.
Helena feigned obliviousness, removing the bandages without a word and studying the wounds. His colouring was almost back to normal, and there was no sign of rot or infection anywhere. Only tiny traces of dead tissue in the immediate area around the symbols.
In a week or so, she might try closing the incisions. Survivable or not, it wasn’t sustainable for him to have a perpetually open injury. As much as he tried to hide behind a routine, she knew he could barely move without excruciating pain. She didn’t trust Crowther’s or Ilva’s charity lasting much longer if Kaine was unable to resume spying.
She rested her hand briefly on his shoulder. He shifted but didn’t flinch at all.
“You’re done,” she said quietly as she finished wrapping the bandages and helped him with his shirt.
He said nothing, just stood and poured himself another drink.
She packed up her bag, heading for the door. Usually the necrothrall opened it as soon as she was near, but tonight it remained closed.
She stood waiting for a moment before finally looking back towards Kaine, standing by the bar. “I never got around to training you, did I, Marino?”
Her mouth went dry. The room around her was suddenly very present.
She’d known that once Kaine began to feel better, he’d find it necessary to remind her that he was in charge. He so obviously hated feeling vulnerable around anyone. He’d feel the need to put her back in her place.
She’d known, and filed it away as a future concern.
She took a step back.
“Come here.”
She shook her head. “I have—I have a procedure tomorrow. You can’t hurt me t-tonight.”
He stilled, and then his knuckles gripped the tumbler, turning white as his expression darkened. “I realise you consider me a complete monster,” he bit out. “But I do generally keep my word. I’m not planning to hurt you. Come here. I want you to try attacking me, so I can see what you know.”
“What?” She stared at him, incredulous.
“You’re travelling at night, outside of Resistance territory.” He was speaking through clenched teeth. “We’ve already established you’re shit at defence. Let’s see your offence. Come. Here.”
She glanced around the cleared space in disbelief. “I’m not going to attack you when you’re injured.”
He stared at her in confusion. “It’s not like I can die.”
She wanted to tell him he was insane but tried to be tactful about it. “Look, Ferron—Kaine—I appreciate the concern, but I’m a vivimancer. I’ll be fine.”
“Will you?”
She gave a sharp nod. “Yes. I might not be the best at defence, but I’ve always got that. So my fighting abilities aren’t something you need to worry about. But”—she drew a deep breath—“I appreciate that you did.”
“I suppose you have a point,” he said slowly, his eyes sliding out of focus.
She heard the door behind her open and gave him one last nod as she turned to go.
In the doorway, instead of the one necrothrall waiting for her, the passage was crowded with them. There were a dozen at least, some old and grey, others new, their wounds still red.
