Page 408 of Alchemised
“You need someone willing,” Atreus said, looking at Helena. “Isn’t that right, a willing soul? You have my phylactery there. It’s the middle bone of the index finger.”
She looked down at the rotting arm. It was oozing a thick, black slime in place of blood, but the middle bone of the index finger was among those remaining. Her heart thudded in disbelief.
“Why would you be willing?” Kaine asked, sneering down at him, his eyes scorching. “You’ve hated me since before I was born.”
Atreus looked away. “Your mother would want me to save you.”
“Well, you’re too late,” Kaine said.
He carried Helena inside, refusing to stop, even when she begged him to.
“I’m not having this conversation,” he said. “The only thing left is getting you out as quickly as possible. It’s lucky those necrothralls’ eyes have practically rotted inside their heads, or we’d already be caught.”
He passed the charred remnants of her room, stepping over a corpse. It was one of the maids. The remaining servants were inside the room, casting water to ensure there were no residual flames, gathering the bits and pieces of things that had survived. The windows were open, the air clearing, but it still stank of burned carpet, the sour scent of doused wood, and the tang of melted iron.
He set her down and unlocked a room a few doors down. There were medical supplies inside it, as well as packed bags. He pulled out a box.
“How do I—? For burns, I’ve never—”
“If your father …”
“We are not talking about this until I’ve healed you,” he said, his voice hard. “Now give that to me.”
He pulled the arm away from her, dropping it into a closet and closing the door to block the smell.
She doubted that he had any intention of discussing it after she was healed, but it had to be done either way.
“Cut off my dress; we’ll have to use saline to try to loosen the fabric where it’s sticking.”
He brought the crisped remnants of her hair forward and pulled out a pair of shears, carefully cutting away the back of her dress.
“I hated these dresses,” she said as he was washing her back, trying to soak free the remaining fabric. She touched her shoulder, using her resonance to feel the damage. The burn was deeper than she’d realised. The nerves were intact, but given the burn’s size and depth, it would take more time than they had to heal it completely. Kaine’s hands were spasming too badly for that kind of repetitive tissue regeneration, and Helena wouldn’t be able to contort her shoulders to reach it. He managed the shallowest sections, but eventually his fingers grew so uncooperative that his resonance kept failing. He stepped away, breathing hard.
“It’s fine,” she said.
“It’s not.”
“Even if your hands were steady, it’ll take too long to heal all of it now,” she said. “If it’s clean and numb, it’ll keep until later.”
He nodded slowly and rummaged through a carton, pulling out a familiar jar of salve. “Would this do?”
She gave a faint laugh. “Yes, that’ll do.”
He applied it carefully and wrapped her back in silk bandages, because they were gentler than linen.
“Your poor back didn’t get nearly such luxurious treatment,” she said as he worked.
She felt his resonance across her skin in all the places that were sore from the scalding air, and a small cut across her forehead that she hadn’t even realised was there. Little things he could manage.
“Kaine,” she said as he finished. “I need to talk to your father.”
“He won’t help; he’s just trying to make you hope in order to hurt you. And even if he wasn’t, I am enough like him already, I don’t want a piece of his soul inside me.”
She turned his face to hers. “You are all he has left of your mother. When he looks at you now, he sees her. He knew the risk he was taking, coming after me. He did it because he thought it would save you.”
She inhaled. “I know you don’t want to believe it’s possible, because hoping terrifies you. But I would rather die trying to save you than live knowing there was a chance and I didn’t take it.”
She could feel him wavering.
