Page 307 of Alchemised
“I don’t know what to do,” Helena said one night, sitting up because she couldn’t sleep, not even in Kaine’s arms. “I don’t know how we can win. I can’t see any way.”
“You can’t save everyone,” he said quietly.
Her jaw started trembling, and she clenched her fists. “I’m not even trying to save everyone, though. I don’t know how to save anyone. I can’t figure anything out. Everything I try is a dead end. We’re running out of time.”
He said nothing.
“I’m just—” She scrubbed her eyes. “I’m so tired. Everything I do feels like I’m delaying the inevitable, saving someone one day so they’ll die in a worse way tomorrow. I wish I’d never become a healer.”
She’d never admitted it to anyone before. That she hated it.
She told him everything now. The truth about the Stone, and where it was, the true story of the Holdfasts, the array from Wagner, and how no matter how she tried, she couldn’t work out how the channelling was supposed to work. She even told him about the obsidian, and how useless it had proven to be.
She was so tired of finding possibilities that went nowhere.
“Bring me a piece,” he told her. “Maybe you haven’t been able to test it the right way.”
She shook her head. “There’s already too much you need to focus on. You don’t need to worry about my pointless experiments.” She cleared her throat. “Did I tell you, I’m working with my lab partner to reverse the nullium alloy, so we can use the compound from it to make inert metal? I was thinking, I could use transmutation to make a really light mesh armour with a high tensile strength, and then use the compound to remove the resonance. You would wear it under your clothes. It wouldn’t interfere with your resonance, and no one could use theirs to break through it.” She traced a finger over a silvery scar on his arm. “I think I’ve almost got it all worked out. Then you won’t get hurt so much.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’m still healing just fine. Bring me a piece of the obsidian. It’ll be more interesting to experiment with than dealing with all of Crowther’s self-defeating sabotage orders. Everyone in the Undying is paranoid about spies now, and Morrough’s been taking more precautions than ever.”
HELENA WAS SORTING THROUGH THE various pieces of charged obsidian she’d accumulated when the windows exploded. A roar shuddered through the air and Tower. Lab equipment shattered across the floor.
The sirens started. All of them.
Another bomb.
Helena headed for the stairs before her bracelet burned, running over the broken glass that covered the floors.
They got scattered reports of what had happened. Several buildings had fallen, and the interconnected skybridges conjoining the cityscape had wrought massive destruction across the centre of the island. The hospital prepared for the inundation they knew would come, but as they waited, only a few lorries arrived, all carrying people from the outermost edges of the collapse.
Helena was healing a heavy gash across a woman’s head when she heard the clamour that meant gurneys were being brought down the hall, but before they reached the hospital, there were voices bellowing from the hallway.
“Don’t bring them in! Get them outside. Cover those windows. Get every entrance sealed.”
There was muffled arguing and protests until a voice roared, “The nullium’s in the air. They’re covered in it. Take them back out!”
Helena turned to stare in horror at Elain, who looked bewildered, her suncrest trembling below her throat.
“Why does it matter if it’s in the air?” Elain asked.
“Because if we inhale it, we could all lose our resonance,” Helena said, nearly frozen as all the ramifications of that began dawning on her. Nullium shrapnel had been devastation enough, but they weren’t prepared for inhalation.
She looked around at the hospital with all the high windows open, trying to catch the mountain breeze as the basin sweltered in the early-summer heat. The air was hazy with dust.
They were already breathing it.
THEY WORE CLOTH MASKS AND the casualty ward was relocated into the commons, trying to keep the new patients away from those already in the hospital, but it was impossible to tell on sight if the dust covering someone had nullium in it or not.
All the protocols were forgotten as more and more stretchers arrived, the injuries growing progressively worse as the rescue and recovery efforts neared the blast zone.
They washed off as much dust as possible, trying to reduce potential contamination while sorting out life-and-death injuries and identifying those already showing signs of nullium exposure.
How long would it take for nullium in the air to penetrate the lungs and reach the blood? Once it did, how long would they have before their resonance began fading? No one knew.
Helena worked with a degree of ruthless abandon that she had never before dared. Every second counted. She healed and healed, working with mindless desperation. The day was hot, and the dust in the air grew thick as a rare southerly wind brought it up-island towards them.
The mask on her face sealed the dampness against her skin. Her hands grew caked with dust that she kept washing off after every patient. The mask stopped working; it was so clogged with dust, it nearly suffocated her. She replaced it with a wet cloth, which was what everyone without masks had already begun using.
