Page 304 of Alchemised
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it that way,” Pace said, but she didn’t really look sorry. “But Helena, I don’t think you know how to be honest with yourself about what you want.”
“It was the only way to become a healer—we needed a healer, Ilva said I was the only person who could do it.” Helena’s jaw trembled, and she had to set it hard. “It was the choice I had, and I made it. Would you really rather I hadn’t?”
“You weren’t even seventeen. You’d barely lived enough to know what you wanted.”
“I feel pretty alive right now,” Helena said through gritted teeth. “And I’m fine.”
“Being alive is not the same as living. I hope someday you’ll have a chance to realise the difference.”
Pace went over to the bookshelf and pulled the book that Helena had been reading off the shelf, holding it in both hands as she stared at the cover. “I was a midwife, you know. Long time ago now.” She shook her head. “I should have realised. You’ve always poured your all into the present moment, as if that’s all you expect to have.”
She turned back to Helena. “Perhaps a glimpse at the next generation will make the future feel a little more real for you.”
She held the book towards Helena. The title, The Maternal Condition: An In-Depth Study on the Science and Physiology of Gestation, glinted in the light from a window high overhead. “Lila Bayard will need the best care you can provide.”
Helena stared at her in astonishment. “How—?”
Matron Pace pressed the book into her hands. “I’ve been a nurse for twice as long as you’ve been alive. Your vivimancy skills are remarkable, but Lila would have had to be sick for a good three weeks before developing a rash like that.”
AS LUC BEGAN TAKING OVER leadership, Ilva’s health began a sudden and rapid decline as if all those years, she’d just been holding on until he was ready. Some days she was barely lucid. Crowther had become so concerned about Ilva’s sudden deterioration that he’d had Helena examine her. There was nothing wrong; she was just old and tired.
The war seemed to pitch back and forth in favour between the two sides. The constant fighting seemed to grant little advantage beyond leaving the city more battered.
Luc led another aggressive attack on the West Island, and they captured a warehouse. It was found filled with large tublike tanks of fluid with bodies inside, tubes connected to veins, and breathing masks fastened over the noses and mouths. Resistance fighters. All dead, but their bodies still warm.
When the perimeter had been breached, a gas had been released into the masks, killing them all mere minutes before the Resistance reached them.
A procession of lorries returned to Headquarters, filled with the bodies to cremate. There were only a few captives, but one was the Warden, who proved difficult and refused to answer questions.
Because the Warden was Luc’s captive, they couldn’t be disappeared into one of Crowther’s underground holes and tortured for information. Crowther remembered then that Kaine had taught Helena a unique method of extracting information; she had mentioned it once as an alternative when trying to dissuade him from torture.
Helena was as horrified as everyone else at all the healthy, intact, familiar faces being prepped for cremation, so close to rescue. She’d immediately agreed.
Some strings were pulled and Crowther managed to get a few hours alone with the Warden, bringing Helena with him.
The Warden was a woman, with a thin face and short cropped hair and a wide mouth. Her pale-blue eyes instantly narrowed when she saw Helena. Each sized the other up.
Crowther settled into the shadows, leaving Helena to make her attempt.
“Who are you?” Helena asked, not sure how to begin.
“What’s it to you?” the Warden asked.
“Can’t say I’ve met any women among the Undying or their Aspirants.”
“Men generally like our bodies a lot more than they like us.” The Warden looked over into the corner where Crowther was watching. “Guess I’m one of the special ones.”
“How are you special?” Helena asked, even though she had a pretty good idea.
“Probably for the same reason you are.” The Warden had looked back and was studying Helena now. “The difference is that I’m not a traitor to my kind.”
“I’m not the one who just murdered more than a hundred people,” Helena said, struggling to keep her voice even. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much that this Warden was a woman, but it made her angrier.
“They would’ve killed me, given half a chance. I killed them first.” The Warden lifted her chin, jutting it towards Helena. “What are you?” Her eyes flicked over Helena. “Healer? I bet. I was a healer once.”
Helena was doubtful about that, but the woman was talking without coercion, so she let her.
“Didn’t want to be a healer, but there’s not a lot of choices out there for us. He tried to make me a nun. Wanted me to raise other brats born like me. Teach them how to keep their abilities in and punish them if they didn’t. Didn’t you?”
