She kept going, flinching as another hit the floor. And another. And another. And of course the last one, which meant she’d been the first to die, was Davies. She met Helena’s eyes the instant before she fell.
There was a rush of energy as the bone shard crumbled, the convulsion before the energy altered into that cold death surge, but instead of transforming it was dragged down into the array.
The air illuminated, and Helena’s hair lifted from her shoulders.
Kaine began to scream.
His eyes went stark, wide, and unseeing. His back arched up, his hands clawing at the floor until his fingertips and nails were torn bloody. Helena leaned over him.
“No. Don’t do this. Hold on,” she said, struggling to pin him down. He had to stay in the centre.
She forced his heart to calm, paralysing his limbs until he couldn’t struggle, but he didn’t stop screaming.
Her fingers fumbled for Atreus’s reliquary. She was frantic as she freed it, tearing the tangled threads of energy off. The bone crumbled, and the energy in the array tried to drag in Atreus’s soul, too.
She gripped it in her left hand and wouldn’t let go. It couldn’t mix with Kaine’s. She strained her resonance so hard, her hand cramped, pain shooting up her forearm. Using her right hand, she pressed down on Kaine’s chest, pulling at the sea of energy swirling through the array, trying to drag it into him, but his agony pushed his resonance outwards, against her, and no matter how she strained, she couldn’t push through.
She leaned towards Kaine until her forehead touched his. He’d stopped screaming because his voice had failed. His eyes were unfocused.
“I need you,” she said. “We’re almost to the end now. But you have to come back to me. We’re running away, remember? You, me, and our baby. We’re going to be free. I’m going to save you, but I need you to fight with me.”
There was a sudden shock of pain in her left hand, and two of her fingers lost sensation, falling limp, and she barely managed to hold her resonance to keep her grip.
She lurched forward, kissing Kaine’s face. “Come back to me. Stay with me.”
His eyes seemed to find her.
She pressed against his chest again, and it was like breathing in a roomful of oxygen, trying to force all the energy inside him. The outer edges of the array ceased to glow, slowly seeping inwards until the light vanished beneath Kaine and the strain on her left hand finally stopped.
He was barely breathing, a rasping, rattling sound emerging from him every time he drew a breath.
Helena worked fast. She wouldn’t allow what happened to Luc to happen again. She could fix it this time.
She mangled Atreus’s soul, her animancy resonance stretching it fine as a thread and binding it in the same way the souls had been bound around the reliquaries, wrapping the energy again and again, like a tangled spiderweb, through Kaine’s ribs and around the talisman.
Not enough to make a new parasite like Cetus, but enough to buy time until Kaine’s body remembered what it was to have a soul.
When she was done, Kaine lay still. She pressed her hand against his chest, feeling him. Alive and mortal.
No signs of seeping cold.
Helena slumped down, so tired she could have passed out beside him, but it wasn’t over yet. This was only the beginning.
She pushed herself unsteadily to her feet.
Crowther’s corpse lay dead once more beside the cage.
Her left hand was still cramped into a contorted fist, still holding the tattered remains of Atreus’s soul.
She touched the corpse, and it took only a little of the nothing she had left to reanimate him. She pressed her left hand against his chest and pushed what was left of Atreus back into it.
His eyes slowly came back into focus. Kneeling beside him, she could feel the same sensation she’d felt as Luc gradually died. That slow bleed of life ebbing away, but for now he was not dead.
He looked towards Kaine, lying still on the floor. “Is he alive?”
She nodded. “Will you help me carry him? I can’t lift him on my own.”
Atreus stood and went to Kaine, while Helena paused, trying to repair her left hand. She followed Atreus where he was pulling Kaine up, dressing him quickly. It took them both to lift Kaine off the floor. His head lolled back and his feet dragged. She paused again, reanimating the servants, one last time, needing their help.
It was past nightfall; Lumithia was barely visible, Luna a waxing crescent, the night sky lit with stars.
Amaris stood just outside the doors, stomping nervously. She was already saddled with travel bags cinched on. Her wings fluttered as the servants carried Kaine out.
“It’s all right. He’s all right,” Helena said, going hesitantly towards Amaris and shushing her, trying to calm and coax her to the ground because it would be impossible to lift Kaine onto the chimaera if she remained standing. She pulled down at the halter on Amaris’s head. Very reluctantly, the chimaera crouched, her yellow eyes following Kaine.
Kaine seemed to have just barely begun to regain consciousness, his eyes sluggish as he was draped across the saddle. There were straps and a harness, which had likely been intended for Helena. She secured him to the saddle.
Amaris kept trying to turn her head, a low whine in her throat.
“It’s all right,” Helena kept saying as she scrambled up behind Kaine on the saddle. She reached into her pockets, finding Atreus’s ignition rings and holding them out.
“The array has to be destroyed,” she said as he took them. “No one can know he’s still alive.”
Amaris rose to her feet, wings already extending in readiness for flight, and Helena was about to release the reins and let her run when Atreus spoke.
“Kaine …” he said.
Kaine lifted his head just enough to look at what remained of his father. Kaine’s face was exhausted, and pained, but the malice and hatred was gone as he stared at Atreus.
“Father …”
Atreus’s whole face seemed to soften. He started to reach out, but Amaris snarled in warning, and his long fingers curled away.
“Your mother was always so proud of you. She said you were the best thing we ever made.” Then Atreus looked at Helena. “Save him.”
Helena didn’t answer, she simply loosed the reins. Amaris raced across the courtyard, flight muscles tense and rippling beneath the saddle, and she leapt, launching herself. Her onyx wings beat against the black sky, and they were airborne, climbing higher and higher. The air whistled around them, and Helena clutched at the harness securing Kaine.
The city was bright, but the mainland was like a void, a black abyss they were attempting to flee, straining towards the stars.
As Amaris levelled out, something flickered below. It grew, becoming an immense, glowing ring of light as Spirefell was consumed by roaring flames.
CHAPTER 75
Julius 1789
THE NOVIS MOUNTAINS LOOMED STARK AGAINST THE starlit sky. Helena put their backs to them, flying south.
Amaris had been younger and smaller when Helena had last ridden her. Her wings were stronger and steadier. Once Helena pointed her south, she seemed to know to follow the river.
The darkness below was nearly endless, punctuated with the clustered lights of towns and villages.
Everywhere Helena looked there was endless dark. She buried her face against Kaine’s back, trying to breathe.
“Don’t die, Kaine,” she kept saying, pressing her face between his shoulders, feeling the feeble thud of his heartbeat against her forehead to reassure herself that he was still alive.
She didn’t know how long they flew; the night seemed endless.