Page 288 of Alchemised
Crowther was seated in his office, his right arm strapped to his body as if it were paralysed again, and he looked at Helena with a degree of disgust unlike anything she’d ever seen before. It reminded her of how the guild students used to look at her, but intensified by magnitudes.
The fingers of his right arm were squeezed into a fist. Which meant it still worked and he was intentionally depriving himself of it.
It took her a moment to understand. This was because she was a necromancer now.
“I was told you wanted me,” she said, pretending not to notice his expression.
“Hours ago,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’m here now.”
Crowther snapped the ignition rings on his left hand, and a deep red orb of flames filled his hand before his fingers squeezed into a fist, skin glowing for a moment before the light extinguished. “The prisoner you brought back refuses to cooperate without you, and Ilva …” His expression twisted with fury. “Ilva insists on a light touch until we know who he is. I have wasted an entire day waiting for you. Where were you?”
Helena avoided his eyes. “Ilva said it would be best to keep out of sight until the official story had circulated.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Helena set her jaw and met his eyes. “I was with Ferron, but I’m sure you already worked that out.”
He gave a scathing laugh that made her scalp crawl. The venom in his expression was so shocking, it was as if she were not even human anymore.
“It’s not as if I wanted to use necromancy,” she said, deciding to drag the unspoken source of his fury into the open. “There was no other way. Soren wasn’t near recovered enough for a mission like that. What was I supposed to do? Let Luc die?”
“What were you supposed to do?” he repeated slowly, standing. “You were supposed to stay in Headquarters. You have one job, Marino, and that is to stay alive and intact so that Ferron can have his weekly proof of life. But it seems I have expected too much of your skills of deduction, so let me be crystal-clear: Unless you are liaising, you will not set foot outside of Headquarters ever again. The only reason I am not having you thrown in prison to stand trial for necromancy is because you now exist to keep Ferron in line.”
Helena’s throat closed. “It was your plan. I was working with what I had.”
Crowther’s eyes bulged. “My plan?”
“It was your informant from the hospital who gave Soren all the information. Where else would Purnell—”
Before she could finish the question, the door burst open, and a boy flew into the room.
“Where’s Sofia? I tried to find her, but no one will talk to me. Where is she?”
It was Ivy, her face dirty, hair tucked up in a cap.
Crowther’s gaze slid to Helena. “Marino, perhaps you’d like to tell Ivy here where her older sister, Sofia Purnell, is?”
Ivy turned, and Helena noticed then the resemblance between the hospital orderly and Crowther’s little protégée. A few years apart, different colouring, and Ivy’s features were sharp and foxlike where Sofia was soft. But as she looked, Helena could see the likeness.
“Your sister?” Helena said, her voice straining. “Sofia was your sister?”
Beneath the dirt, all colour drained from Ivy’s face.
“Sofia was part of the rescue team that saved Luc. She showed us the route through the tunnels to the prison, but during the escape, she was caught in the flood current. I thought—I thought”—Helena looked at Crowther—“you sent her. You didn’t send her?”
Ivy stared at Helena for a moment and then screamed. Helena had never heard such a sound from anyone. It exploded out of the girl, so sharp it felt as though the lightbulbs might shatter. White rage swept across Ivy’s face.
Helena braced herself, but Ivy whirled on Crowther. “You promised to protect her if I did everything you said! She wasn’t supposed to work for you. She was just supposed to be safe!”
She lunged at him, going right over the desk, as if she intended to claw his eyes out, but before her fingers reached him, a burst of flames materialised and slammed her into the wall. Ivy hit the floor, and books toppled from the shelves onto her, catching fire as they rained down.
Crowther had moved, darting like a cat. His years of combat experience showing as he closed in on Ivy.
“I never told her about tunnels or waterways, or any prison,” Crowther said as his hand clenched in a fist, the fire vanishing. “If she knew that information, it was from your indiscretion. I warned you to tell her nothing, but you had to talk about all the ways you could travel through the city unseen. Are you glad you impressed her now? I’m sure you made it sound so easy.”
Helena expected Ivy to spring up, but the girl just stayed there on the floor.
