Page 96 of Alchemised
He peered at her through a series of lenses, muttering to himself and twisting various screws and then holding a small light near her face before sitting back. “I believe you may make a full recovery.”
He glanced towards Ferron. “Keep her out of the light, apply the belladonna twice a day, and there’s a good chance she’ll have little impairment.”
Helena watched one-eyed as he stood, packing his instruments away before he turned to Ferron, straightening his coat pompously.
“I must say, that’s an exceptional healer you have there. When you told me what happened, I didn’t think there was much chance of keeping the eye. We have a few vivimancers at the hospital now, and they cause more trouble than they’re worth. Always sure they know better than the doctors, but then only addressing the symptoms and never bothering to understand how anything works. Useless lot.”
The doctor looked down at Helena again. His eyes resting on the manacles around her wrists.
“What a pity,” he said to himself. “Such a waste of talent.”
Ferron made a noncommittal grunt. The doctor turned to face him, flushing. “And you, sir. Remarkable that you could manage such delicate healing through imitation. Very impressive. You should work in the hospital.”
“So I’m told,” Ferron said with an insincere smile. “Do you think they’ll still hire me after I murdered someone in the lobby?”
The man blanched. “Well—what I mean is—”
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll see you out,” Ferron said, striding away.
HELENA WORE A PATCH OVER her left eye. Ferron came like clockwork to administer the atropine drops, apparently not trusting even his servants around Helena with belladonna. Once she no longer needed the eye drops, she was brought cool compresses made from eyebright.
She’d just stopped wearing the patch when Stroud returned.
“You’ve had a rather unfortunate month, I hear,” she said as Helena automatically stripped for the examination.
Helena’s vision was still imbalanced, making things swing out of focus as Stroud began examining her. Stroud noted something in her file, and then made Helena lie back and spent more than a minute kneading her stomach and lower abdomen.
“Perfect,” Stroud finally said, stepping back and taking several more notes. “You’re finally ready.”
Helena stared dully at the ceiling, debating whether to give Stroud the satisfaction of asking what she meant. Stroud stood waiting, and finally she relented.
“Ready for what?”
“Enrolment in my repopulation program.”
Helena looked at her blankly.
“Didn’t I mention it?” Stroud inclined her head smugly. “It must have slipped my mind.”
Helena blinked slowly. Her uneven vision left her off kilter, as if reality itself were out of alignment. “I was sterilised.”
“Yes, I know.” Stroud just nodded. “I believe I may be the first vivimancer to manage a full ligation reversal.”
The room threatened to tilt. “No. They said it would be—”
“Well, they did try to make things difficult. I had to practise several times on a few of the extra girls we had in the program. It wasn’t any loss, don’t worry. Not every resonance is worth replicating, and it’s good to have a few spares for consolation; some of the sires don’t take it well when we don’t have any availability for their repertoires.”
Helena’s throat convulsed. “What?”
“Anyway, I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure. I thought you’d figure it out. I suppose you’re not as bright as everyone says.”
Helena tried to scramble up and escape, but Stroud paralysed her limbs with a careless touch.
“The High Necromancer is convinced that you’re an animancer. If he’s right, we can’t let a girl like that go to waste. Do you have any idea how rare they are? And here you are at the critical moment, when we need one most.”
Her body shook. “I thought—the transference—”
“Oh, so now you want to cooperate with transference?” Stroud laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll still try to recover your memories afterwards. We’re simply reprioritising for a little while.”
