Page 81 of Alchemised
“I wasn’t sure what to do,” Helena said, handing another sphere over for grading. “It felt like whatever I chose, someone was disappointed. Everyone—” She started to move her fingers but stopped, folding her hands. “Everyone wanted a lot for me, and I’m not sure I ever knew what I wanted.” She shrugged. “Probably good that I didn’t, since it didn’t matter in the end.”
Shiseo didn’t reply. He was studying his notes; then he looked at her folded hands before his impassive eyes reached her face. “I don’t think a steel weapon would suit you.”
“What?”
“You are exceptional with titanium. I met the titanium guildmaster once, and even his work was not so perfect.” Then he picked up a piece of her nickel work, studying it as well. “Have you ever tried nickel-titanium alloy?”
She shook her head.
“It would make a better weapon for you. Very light. You’d waste your strength with steel.”
“This isn’t for a weapon,” Helena said quickly. “It’s just—curiosity.”
Shiseo made a little click with his tongue. “Well … if you wanted a weapon, I would advise you to use nickel and titanium. Don’t limit yourself to what Paladians do.”
THE ENTIRE RIGHT SIDE OF Helena’s body was vaguely sore, and her tongue had the sensation of oversensitive, newly regenerated tissue across its surface as she struggled to wake.
She stared dazedly at the canopy over her, trying to remember what had happened.
Ferron—she’d been talking to Ferron. She looked around for him, but he was gone.
She’d been telling him that Morrough was dying, that killing the Undying somehow hurt him; she’d finally pieced it all together and then—
There was nothing after that.
She sat up slowly. It must have been another seizure. She shifted her shoulders, opening her mouth cautiously, expecting the muscles to catch, residual tension holding her back, but it didn’t.
She looked down at herself. She’d been treated.
Seizures were not something she’d encountered much in a military hospital, but Titus Bayard had suffered from them after his brain injury.
Muscle tension wasn’t something that could be treated with a mere touch of vivimancy. Resonance could loosen the knotted muscles, but the tension had to be manually massaged away to help the limbs to stretch and extend again.
Which meant that someone had, at minimum, touched the entire right side of her body. She shuddered and hoped it hadn’t been one of the necrothralls—but then reconsidered when she reviewed the alternatives.
She took a long shower until all the remaining aches in her body faded, tilting her back and letting the water stream through her hair, replaying the memory.
Shiseo. So, she had known him. She didn’t want to believe it, but he was right there in her mind now.
They couldn’t have known each other well. He probably performed resonance tests for lots of people. Maybe he’d done it as a way of spying on the Resistance.
But why hide that memory? She was bewildered by the span of her memory loss.
Why would the Undying trust Shiseo if he’d worked and lived among the Resistance for the entire war? Countless Paladians had been killed or imprisoned for less, but instead he was entrusted as envoy.
It made no sense.
After its founding, Paladia had courted foreigners from the world over. The Holdfasts had wanted the Institute to be the alchemy capital of the world, where alchemists of every kind might come and study and share their techniques and methods. Paladia had quickly outgrown that dream, though.
Especially once the Institute neared capacity, sentiments of welcome soured.
After Principate Apollo’s death, when talk of war began, Helena’s father had wanted to return south. He’d said it wasn’t their fight, and his responsibility was keeping her safe, but Helena had already promised Luc she’d stay, and so her father had stayed because of her.
And died because of her.
She drew a sharp breath, tracing along the scar on her throat as she stepped out of the shower.
As she towelled off, she froze at the sight of her reflection.
