Page 126 of Alchemised
He walked away.
Helena stayed curled against the wall, too crushed beneath her despair to move.
“MARINO.”
A cool voice jolted Helena awake.
Her eyes snapped open, and she found Ilva Holdfast standing before her, both hands resting idly on the head of her cane. Helena was still huddled against the wall where Soren had left her.
“Let’s have a private chat,” Ilva said, her tone even and emotionless.
Helena’s stomach shrivelled as she stood stiffly.
They went up a floor to Ilva’s office, and she produced a little key from her pocket to unlock it.
Helena had always admired that Ilva never tried to hide her lack of resonance, never acted ashamed or apologetic about it. Even though most people didn’t possess measurable resonance, once swept into the world of alchemy, the absence sometimes felt startling to encounter. The guild families staked everything upon their alchemy; their future and fortunes depended on maintaining their traditional resonance. They were borderline superstitious about their children’s abilities, and so a Lapse in the family was often taken as a sign that the bloodline was weak.
But Ilva had never been hidden away by the Holdfasts. The Faith had long held that resonance was no form of superiority; it was Sol’s will to endow whom he would.
The Holdfasts had given Ilva as many opportunities as any other Holdfast. She’d been one of the first women to study in the science department before deciding her interests lay elsewhere, and the first female non-alchemist to join the Eternal Flame when her brother Helios, Luc’s grandfather, had become Principate.
Now she was the only family Luc had left, and he had made her steward, entrusting her to act on his behalf when he was absent.
Helena entered the office and stopped short.
Jan Crowther was seated in one of the two chairs across from Ilva’s desk.
He was a needle of a man, plainly dressed, with ash-brown hair combed back from his face. A red flame pyromancer, Crowther had fought in the Eternal Flame’s crusades against necromancy in the surrounding countries until his right arm was paralysed.
He rarely spoke in the public meetings. He managed logistical matters, supplies, rations, and dispatching and assigning the Resistance’s noncombatants. Helena didn’t know why he was there; if she was going to be censured, it made more sense for Falcon Matias to be present.
“Sit down,” Ilva said, seating herself behind the desk, which was covered in files.
Helena sat in the chair beside Crowther’s. She was so tired it was difficult not to slump.
“Seems I’m doomed never to have an easy conversation with you,” Ilva said.
Helena said nothing. There was a long silence, as if Ilva was debating where to begin.
“We’re losing the war,” Ilva finally said.
Helena blinked, the room coming into sharp focus. Her eyes darted between Ilva and Crowther, who remained silent, both watching for her reaction.
She didn’t know what to say. Most people regarded it as a preordained fact that the Resistance would win. Eventually. The Eternal Flame was always victorious. In the battle of good and evil, good always won in the end.
“I know,” Helena finally said.
Ilva inclined her head, her gaze seeming to go through Helena. “Luc is—exceptional. The best of all the Holdfasts, I’ve always said. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn how rare it is that anyone with such capacity for greatness is actually truly good, but Luc is one of those rare few. It’s a tremendous burden, trying to protect someone like that.” Ilva closed her eyes for a moment, her age showing in every line of her face. “I never expected to be steward to the Principate. I’ve spent so much time wondering what Apollo would do, or my brother, or father, but it’s no use—none of them were anything like Luc. He’s so earnest, it pains me.” She pressed her hand over her heart and looked directly at Helena. “I am grateful you at least did not make that proposal with Luc present.”
Helena just pressed her lips together, knowing Ilva’s gratitude wasn’t because Helena would have hurt Luc but because he might have agreed with her. Because he trusted her, valued her perspective even when they disagreed.
But if she’d spoken with Luc present, and he had listened, everyone else would have seen her as a serpent, dripping poison in his ears, corrupting their golden heir.
“I stand by what I said.”
Crowther let out a breath like a hiss, and the fingers of his hand twitched. Her eyes caught on the ignition rings decorating his fingers.
“You know it’s impossible,” Ilva said.
