“It was because of you, wasn’t it?” she asked, somehow sure it had to have been, although she didn’t remember anything except the fire, her ears throbbing, trying to run.
He looked away again but nodded.
Helena wasn’t sure why he’d be angry about that. She closed her eyes. She felt so tired now that he was there, as if she’d waited for him in order to rest.
“When you were asleep, I used to promise I’d take care of you,” she said.
“No.” He said it harshly. “That was me. I was the one who used to say that.”
She opened her eyes. “I used to say it back. I guess you didn’t know.”
His expression grew stricken and then he looked away, flicking the curtains closed so that it was too dim to make out his face anymore.
“What’s the plan?” she asked into the darkness. “You said it was almost over? What does that mean?”
His eyes seemed to glow. “We’re just waiting for the summer Abeyance. Get you as far away as possible. You’ll blend in if you go south.”
“Is that where Lila is? South?”
“Yes, she’s still on the mainland, near the coast. She stayed at a midway point while we tried to find you.”
“We?” Hope rose in her chest. There were survivors.
“Shiseo.”
Helena recoiled at the name.
Kaine was closer now, she could tell by his voice, but the room was so dark that she couldn’t see him. “He turned himself in, providing papers and a seal identifying him as a member of the imperial family, and offering research. He designed those manacles in the hope that if you ever showed up, he’d be the one called in to put them on.”
“Well, he certainly managed that,” Helena said hoarsely. “This is all his fault. If he hadn’t told them about transference—”
“Morrough would have vivisected your brain the day they found you if Shiseo hadn’t intervened,” Kaine said. “He had no way of knowing what Morrough would do with the method.”
She fell silent.
“It was the only thing he could come up with that would give me access to you and buy enough time. He’ll be the one to take you to Lila.”
“But what’s the plan for Paladia?”
Kaine was silent for several moments. “Morrough’s weakening. He tried to use Holdfast for spare parts, but it wasn’t enough, even though he mutilated himself adding his bones. Enough of the Undying are gone now that he can’t move or breathe without that monstrosity of his. That’s why he’s so desperate for an animancer—he thinks it’ll let him start over.”
Luc’s bones. He’d used Luc’s bones.
“It’s all about striking at the right moment,” Kaine was saying. “Morrough’s activities and the extent of the slaughter here have begun to impact the continent. The surrounding countries will intervene soon. There are rumours of an alliance that even Hevgoss is cooperating with. Paladia’s a critical source of lumithium, and it’s an industrial power that isn’t easily replaced when so many alchemists are dead. The other countries may not have cared when it was a civil conflict, but now they’ll act to secure their interests. Once they’re confident Morrough’s weak, they’ll move quickly.”
There was an assurance in the way he said it, as if it was all arranged, every detail already in place. Helena brightened with interest, trying to remember what she’d read in the papers.
“How will you—?”
“You don’t need to worry about the specifics,” he said, cutting her off. “You’ll be gone before then. If you want to help, eat and get strong enough to travel.”
He left without another word.
He didn’t come back again for several days.
It made her anxious as evening after evening passed and he failed to even briefly appear. She couldn’t stop herself from trying to remember, to piece together answers of why he was angry and why he didn’t come back. Memories would burst open, staining her vision red, upending her thoughts, leaving her drowning in disjointed spurts of emotion and snatches of conversation.
She had fits all through the day. Davies added vials of various drugs to the saline drip until Helena lay in a stupor, unable to think.
It was dark when the mattress dipped and a cool hand brushed back the curls clinging to her face, tucking them behind her ear. Her hand was picked up, long fingers entwining with hers. Kaine’s thumb stroked across her knuckles, finally stopping at her ring finger, spiralling something there slowly.
The ring.
She’d forgotten all about it.
Once the fits stopped, Kaine withdrew again, but he didn’t disappear entirely. At first she thought she was imagining it, but it was undeniable that he was distancing himself.
He’d stand, hands clasped behind his back, not even looking at her, giving only short answers to her questions. She rarely knew what to say; everything felt either trivial or too devastating to put into words. She didn’t know where to begin.
Hold on, she’d told herself over and over inside the tank. Don’t break. She’d thought she’d succeeded, but now she knew, there were only pieces of her left.
She sat in bed, watching him stare out the window. It was night and there was nothing to see; he simply didn’t want to look at her. She knew he’d leave in a moment, if she didn’t say something.
“How—have you been?” she finally asked in desperation, then winced because it was a stupid question.
“Fine,” he said.
She blinked down at her lap. “You’re married.”
He went rigid at that, and she watched him inhale. “Yes, to Aurelia Ingram.”
She nodded. She didn’t know why it mattered, given everything else. She’d never at any point imagined Kaine marrying her. Yet her mind couldn’t move away from the detail. He had a wife now. Which made her—
She wasn’t sure what she was. What she’d ever been.
“Morrough ordered it,” he said, even though she hadn’t said anything else. “The Guild Assembly wanted a high-profile event, proof that things were back to normal. I didn’t have any choice.”
She nodded again wordlessly.
“I—” He looked towards her and started to speak again but then stopped.
The space between them was like a chasm filled with every sin they’d ever committed against each other, but even from that distance, she could feel his anger.
No matter what he said, she knew he was angry at her.
“You’re able to travel now?” she asked. “You said you went to Hevgoss lots of times.”
“Yes.”
She twisted the linen hem of the sheet between her fingers. “Then … after things here are done, will you—will you come south, too?”
“Lila has a rather abiding hatred for me.”
Helena kept waiting for an answer. We’re supposed to run away together. You promised.
He glanced back out into the courtyard. “With luck, I won’t be in Paladia for long afterwards.”
“So you’ll come—eventually?” Her voice was hopeful.
It felt impossible for things to ever be repaired within the suffocating confines of Spirefell, but if they went somewhere far away, maybe it could be done. They’d found each other once, after all. With time, they could do it again.
His eyes glittered for a moment, and she saw the briefest curve of his lips as he quietly said, “If that’s what you want.”
It felt like a lie.
CHAPTER 67
Maius 1789
TIME DID NOT HEAL ALL WOUNDS, BUT it did make a difference for Helena’s mind. With each day, her memories seemed to settle, falling into a semblance of order.