Page 64 of Alchemised
“I feel like I can breathe again,” she said, wishing she could feel this calm without being frozen. “Like I’d been drowning so long, I’d forgotten what oxygen feels like.” Then she grimaced. “The withdrawal leaves something to be desired, though.”
“Well, I’m not the one to blame for that.” He turned to walk on. “Besides, if I didn’t leave you on the floor retching, you might make the mistake of thinking I care.”
Helena inclined her head. “Yes. You seem strangely concerned about me thinking such a thing.”
Ferron froze for an instant, then turned back, a cruel smile thawing his face. “Your friends must have thought very little of you, if this seems like care.”
Helena was so stunned by his words, she felt her heart try to beat faster.
“Yes, they did,” she said quickly. “Of course they cared.”
He tilted his head. “Who?”
She swallowed. “Luc, and Lila, and—” There was a name on the tip of her tongue, but her mind seemed to swerve around it until she focused. “And S-Soren. Lila’s twin brother. He was—he was my friend, too.”
How had she forgotten Soren? She barely had time to wonder. Ferron seemed to be waiting for more names.
“Ilva Holdfast, Luc’s great-aunt. She advocated for me when my vivimancy was discovered. And—and Matron Pace. She managed the hospital.”
Ferron still seemed to be waiting, and it upset her so much that her anger broke through for an instant.
“Having a vivimancer as part of the Eternal Flame wasn’t something everyone was going to be comfortable with. Especially since I was—foreign. It was too much for some people. I didn’t have the same kinds of connections that others did. If there’d been problems, it could have—it could have undermined Luc.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Well, you seem to have it all very thoroughly rationalised for yourself. Congratulations. It was clearly all worth it in the end.”
He flashed an insincere smile and walked away.
Helena was tempted to fling a marble bust after him and ask exactly who cared about him. His own father wanted to disown him, his wife couldn’t stand him, and he couldn’t even keep living staff on to run his house.
If she hadn’t been drugged, she would have, but she was rational enough to know it was pointless, and her time was limited.
The necrothralls appeared and vanished like ghosts as she resumed her exploration. When she finished with the east wing, she fetched her cloak and gloves, determined to spend her remaining time on the outbuildings.
The sky was unusually clear, a stark winter blue. The reborn sun was a pale golden disc, too feeble for much warmth but a comfort to see.
The garden shed was locked. The next building was a small iron forge. Locked too. Hardly surprising. So were the connecting storehouses. She tried the stable, feeling the eyes of the necrothralls on her as she tested the large sliding doors and found them locked. She tugged at them a few more times, wishing they’d give.
She’d always liked horses. They reminded her of the donkeys in Etras that were always nuzzling into people’s pockets with their velvety noses, looking for treats.
Animals were rare on Paladia’s islands. The city was so dense and multi-levelled, there was no place for them except as pets, and there’d been no pets allowed at the Institute. The highroads became exclusively for motorcars and lorries, and so horses were only brought into the city for ceremonial events and parades.
Luc had the handsomest white destrier named Cobalt, who’d loved carrots but hated the city, and he was always taken back out to the countryside as soon as the summer solstice parade passed. Luc had told her that if she ever visited their country estate, they’d go riding.
Helena tried a smaller stable door around the corner and was surprised when it opened.
She slipped inside. The sweet smell of hay filled the air, and another scent she couldn’t place. She squinted into the dark. All the stalls seemed empty; no stomping or snorting greeted her.
She clicked her tongue and heard shuffling at the far end of the stable. The sound of something very large getting up.
She clicked again and heard a deep, huffed breath, but she couldn’t see anything.
“Hello,” she said tentatively, stepping a little farther in.
The door behind her swung wide open. Bright light spilling in.
She expected Ferron, but it was the two necrothralls from Central shoving their way in.
A snarl—almost a roar—rolled through the darkness. Every hair on Helena’s body rose on end.
