Page 78 of Alchemised
“And …”
“It would seem that she was apprehended near the West Port shortly after the bombing.”
“To rescue the Bayard paladin?”
“A bombing seems a careless method of rescue. The paladin’s escape may have been coincidental. As you recall, Bayard was already dying when I captured her.”
“It was because of Bayard. I am sure.”
Helena’s mind throbbed as she tried to understand what they were saying.
A rasping, wheezing sigh rose from all the bodies at once. “All this time we thought Hevgoss … but it was the Eternal Flame after all. They must have caught on to him.”
“Surely if they’d realised, they wouldn’t have allowed their Headquarters to be so easily taken.”
“Perhaps …” Morrough did not sound convinced. “But that is not for you to decide. I determine what was pointless. This proves that the Eternal Flame was more cunning than we thought. I suspect our captive animancer knows far more than she realises.”
“Then I will continue to break her,” Ferron said. He started to pull Helena up from the floor to drag her away.
“Did I give you leave to go?” Morrough’s body was suddenly raised high, his massive, distorted form now looming over them both. He was barely clothed, and his skin sagged, rotting off him so that Helena could see his organs pulsing where it tore away. Bright beneath the decaying flesh. She stared dazedly.
There were too many bones, some greyish and crumbling, others white.
Morrough’s wasted hand fell on Ferron’s shoulder. “You are growing presumptuous, High Reeve.”
Ferron instantly released Helena. She dropped to the ground at his feet. It was warm, and something wet clung to her skin, seeping through her clothes. She could smell viscera and old blood. In the darkness, cold fingers tugged at her dress as the throne morphed with another rasping, rotting heave.
“How can I trust someone who presumes and overlooks as much as you have of late?”
Ferron drew a sharp breath.
“Your failures seem to be multiplying. Overlooking your prisoner’s signs of animancy. Ignoring your father’s counsel. And where are the assassins that I ordered you to find?”
The copper-tanged rot in the air choked Helena as the darkness closed around her, cold dead fingers scrabbling, trying to drag her deeper. All her fears coming to life.
“I am your most loyal servant. I will not fail you. If it was the Eternal Flame, I will find them.”
“It was the Eternal Flame. Who else could it be? Who would dare to kill the Undying? The weapon was obsidian. Crowther is ours now, but he must have shared the secrets with someone overlooked during the purge. Perhaps their identity is one of the secrets our captive animancer is trying so hard to keep from us.”
As Morrough spoke, the resonance in the air became a solid, weighted mass bearing down. Helena’s ribs bowed under the pressure, threatening to snap inwards and shred her lungs.
“Mandl’s death was a humiliation. For one so illustrious, you should have foreseen it.”
The pressure eased enough for Helena to manage one desperate breath, but the miasma coated her throat, choking her.
“I am investigating all potential avenues,” Ferron said, breathing heavily. “The records indicate that Crowther collaborated with a metallurgist killed during the final battle. I have assigned cryptologists to re-evaluate his research for any hints of other collaborators.”
“That is old information,” Morrough snarled. “How many weeks have you been investigating the deaths with nothing to show for it? Have you forgotten what happens when I am disappointed?”
“I—”
The thrumming of Morrough’s resonance concentrated and vanished. There was a crack, sharp and sudden like branches snapping. Ferron gave a broken gasp and dropped like a stone, falling not prone but over Helena, one arm braced just above her head.
She could just barely make out his face. His silver eyes above her seemed to glow as blood spurted from his mouth, dripping from his lips and onto the floor. His expression twisted, his body contorting and his pupils dilating until his irises were narrow bands of silver.
Then he screamed and went limp, collapsing on top of her.
The weight of his body, the jut of broken bones, pressed down on her, but she couldn’t feel a heartbeat.
