Page 228 of Alchemised
“We need him, though. We’ve only come this far because of him. If we lose him, if things start falling apart again, people will blame Luc for that.”
Ilva gave a thin smile. “Fortunately for us, Ferron has made himself quite the integral figure among the Undying in recent months. With him suddenly gone, the destabilisation will be widespread.”
“You can’t do this,” Helena said.
“I am trying to save everyone, Marino.” Her voice crackled with intensity. “That includes you. No matter how you’ve romanticised him, Kaine Ferron is not a person. He is a monster.” Ilva pressed her hand over her heart, a gesture many people made when alluding to Apollo. “He and his family should have been dealt with long ago, but Pol worried about how the guilds might react. He let that boy attend the Institute despite the suspicions surrounding his birth, and look how that kindness was repaid. I will not make that mistake with Luc.”
“Please, Ilva, I can make him loyal. I just need more time.”
Ilva stared at her. “Are you choosing Ferron over Luc? Over all the vows you made?”
The question stopped her cold.
“No,” Helena said quickly. “No,” she said again, her voice breaking. “I am loyal. But”—her throat worked several times—“if I had proof that he was loyal, that he’d do whatever you wanted, would you let him live? I swear, if I can’t, I will—I will kill him. But if he was loyal, he could be useful.
“Please, Ilva.” Her voice shook.
Ilva gave a small sigh and looked tired. “If you can present Ferron on his knees, crawling, willing to do anything, within a month, I’ll let you keep him.” Then she shook her head. “But be honest with yourself. There’s no such thing as loyalty in his kind. The Ferrons are as corruptible as their resonance.”
There was pressure in her throat like a stone, but Helena forced herself to speak. “I’ll do it. One way or another. I’ll finish it. Don’t let Crowther send what he has.”
Ilva had leaned forward on her desk, the chain from the empty amulet dangling between her fingers. “One month, Marino.”
CHAPTER 46
Decembris 1786
A MONTH. THE DAYS FELT BRANDED INTO HER bones. Helena couldn’t sleep that night. The future haunted her. There was an Ember Service before first light as Falcon Matias consecrated the coming year to Sol’s guidance, and then Helena began her hospital shift.
She felt cornered, as if the world were closing in, and there was no escape. No one to turn to.
She tried to push her dread down using animancy, but it consumed her utterly; every thought led to the same despair.
When her shift was over, she went to the desk to see if she could perhaps stay on for the next one. Surely someone would rather celebrate solstice, and Helena could keep busy.
Purnell was on duty at the hospital desk, wearing a pin with SOFIA P etched into it. Helena tensed at the sight of her, and before she could speak, Purnell held out a slip of paper.
“The steward said to give you this when your shift was over.”
Helena hesitated a moment before reading it.
There were only a few words. As thanks for all her hard work, Ilva had ensured Helena could have a few hours off to attend the solstice celebrations at Solis Splendour. Luc would be present and happy to see her. Rhea was expecting her.
Helena stared dully at the obvious manipulation.
Ilva was losing her touch. Or perhaps Helena was finally getting wise to her.
She put on the green wool pullover that Rhea had gifted her over her uniform and made her way to Solis Splendour. It was already dark, the year and the sun both preparing for rebirth.
In four weeks, Kaine would be dead.
She barely knocked on the door, but it swung immediately open, and warmth and light, music and laughter all spilled out. She squinted, dazed. Had she knocked at the wrong house?
“Marino? I didn’t know you were coming.” It was Alister, one of the boys from Luc’s unit. He held the door for her. “Come in. We’ve got loads of food.”
Helena entered, feeling as if she’d somehow stepped out of reality into a dreamlike version of Solis Splendour. The house was lively, decorated with tinsel and streamers and bits of evergreen, and the children ran through like a pack of feral puppies.
She knew the faces, recognised people, but everything felt different. Wrong.
