Page 74 of Alchemised
“She was the only southerner at the Institute, rather hard to miss, I’d say,” Ferron said, not seeming to care.
The rush of adrenaline was ebbing from Helena. When she reached the stairs, her legs trembled, almost giving out. She listed towards the nearest wall, fingertips seeking the surface and wincing as they made contact. Her blood smeared along the wallpaper.
She should have cut her throat open the instant she’d gotten her fingers on that knife.
IT WAS MIDWINTER WHEN GOVERNOR Fabian Greenfinch was nearly assassinated.
It happened during the unveiling ceremony for Morrough’s new statue. The governor was giving a speech about New Paladia’s liberation, and Mandl, Warden of the re-education centre on the Outpost, whose “members” had built the statue, had been standing beside him on the dais. As the ribbon cutting commenced, a crossbow bolt emerged from one of the nearby buildings. It narrowly missed the governor, instead striking Mandl.
Mandl died.
In front of a crowd of reporters and international visitors, citizens, and foreign dignitaries, one of the Undying, whose appearance marked her as undeniably and visibly among the immortal, died.
The death sent shock waves across Paladia and beyond. The newspaper headlines were almost audibly hysterical. The Resistance terrorists believed to have been wiped out had reappeared in a spectacular manner, before an audience that could not be as easily cowed into silence as the national press was.
Lancaster’s visits to Spirefell abruptly ceased. Aurelia floated around the house, wan and paranoid, starting at every sound as if expecting Resistance fighters to emerge from the walls and murder her next. Several times Helena heard her interrogating Ferron about what protections the estate had, and couldn’t they have more necrothralls?
Ferron, when Helena caught glimpses of him, was no longer in coats and cloaks and pristine white shirts or even armour, but what appeared to be a combination of light combat gear and hunting clothes. He regularly returned to the house covered in mud, soaked from rain, and pale with rage.
Helena was thrilled.
She read the coverage obsessively, her heart soaring. The Resistance was still out there.
The papers emphasised over and over that it was a failed assassination attempt, trying desperately to gloss over the fact that someone ostensibly immortal had been killed by accident instead.
Helena knew the continent had to be alight with speculation of how it had been done, and how it might be replicated.
There was a way to kill the Undying.
Her steps were light for days.
Stroud visited again. Unlike Ferron and Aurelia, she seemed unfazed by the upheaval and new danger.
The butler accompanied her, carrying in a folding medical table, setting it up in the middle of the room before leaving.
“Strip and seat yourself,” Stroud said, patting the table and then turning to review a file.
Helena set her jaw as she obeyed.
“I would have thought you’d have more urgent concerns than coming here,” Helena said, hoping to lure out some new information.
Stroud glanced over. Her “no” was casual, like she couldn’t think of anything.
“You’re not worried you might be targeted?”
“I’m not one of the Undying,” Stroud said with a careless shrug.
“You’re not?” Helena was startled. She’d assumed anyone so close to Morrough must be.
“No. Someday, perhaps, but I have no interest at present. The High Necromancer empowers me to carry on his work so that I will not weaken or fade so long as I am faithful.”
“I didn’t know that was possible.” Helena’s fingers ached; her left hand was still in a splint, recovering from her attempt on Ferron’s life.
“There are many things you don’t know. The Toll of extensive vivimancy is reversible for those who know the means.” Stroud glanced derisively at Helena.
Helena watched her curiously. “But why not become Undying?”
Stroud shook her head. “The Undying have their own—limitations. Bennet was one of the earliest to ascend. He used the High Necromancer’s great knowledge to experiment beyond what was believed possible. He spent decades seeking to unlock the secrets of transference. Anyone who knew him could not help but appreciate his genius. I was among the few who worked most closely beside him …”
