Page 187 of Alchemised
She blinked hard. “I was afraid you’d think it meant I didn’t believe in you, and I do, I just—want this to be over.”
“Hel …” He looked down, fidgeting with the ignition rings on his fingers. “This isn’t your war.”
She flinched. “What do you mean, it’s not my war? I’ve been here from the start. I promised you—” She shook her head. “You’d never say this to Lila. To anyone else.”
He looked pained as he shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t, because everyone else knows that in the battle between good and evil, it gets worse before it gets better. That it’s our job to stay the path and not give into the temptation of doing what’s easy.”
Her throat closed, and she stepped back, her eyes burning with hurt. Easy?
“Look, I know you meant well, you were just trying to help, and to you it seems like there’s a solution right there that we’re wasting, but we’re—I’m held to a different standard than that. Sol expects more. And—if you want to be a part of this, you have to believe that.”
She could see Matias’s plan now, making Luc think it would be better and kinder to send her away. That she didn’t belong, someone like her couldn’t understand the Northern Faith and Northern ways. Then Luc would see it as a sacrifice, as giving her up, not punishing her, if he sent her away.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was wrong, I know that now. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
He exhaled. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. This is all my fault. I leave you here alone all the time and assume you’ll be fine, but that’s not fair. I’m going to fix this.” He nodded. “Starting tonight. The unit’s on reserve because of the Abeyance. How about I show you that array? We can catch up and do—anything you want. You can show me what mad genius things you’re up to in here.” He smiled his crooked smile. “What do you say?”
He held out his hand.
“I have work tonight,” she said, her voice painfully small. “Abeyance is alchemically significant for—things.”
“Oh. Right … well,” he forced a smile, “next time, then.”
She managed a nod and a tight smile back. Her eyes returned to the clock, gauging the distance to the Outpost, the fastest she could get there. Even if she ran the whole way, even if the checkpoint had no line, she wasn’t going to make it in time.
Luc was still standing there, clearly hoping she’d change her mind.
She turned away awkwardly and started measuring things, pretending she’d forgotten him, but it took more than a minute of painful silence before he quietly left.
Before the door shut, she heard Lila’s voice say, “I’m sorry, Luc.”
Helena’s hands went still, and she waited, trying to guess how long it would take for them to reach the stairs or the lifts so that they wouldn’t see her leaving. While she waited, she pushed the conversation away, down within her mind and memory, trying to make it stop clawing her heart open.
HELENA RAN ONCE SHE REACHED the bridge. She was still ten minutes late.
Kaine raised an eyebrow when she burst in, so breathless she doubled over.
“I thought you were finally standing me up,” he said.
She braced her hands on her knees, catching her breath. “Someone—wanted to talk. Couldn’t—rush off.”
There was an atrocious stitch in her side. She pressed her hand against it, trying to soothe the ligaments. Her lungs were burning.
Still winded, she got to work, pulling out all her supplies from the medical satchel strapped over her shoulder and belted at the waist.
“Do you always carry this much in that bag of yours?” Kaine asked as he watched.
“Usually it’s empty, so I can fill it up in the wetlands.” She looked at him more closely. “How do you feel?”
He tilted his head, considering. “My regeneration is slower right now, and the array doesn’t feel like a screw being twisted through my consciousness. It’s lovely.”
He took a sip of something amber, swaying, and she realised that he was slightly drunk. Slower regeneration indeed.
“That’s good, because I think it’s best if I keep you conscious for this,” she said. “I’ll need you to move as I work, to make sure the new tissue won’t tear or heal rigid, because it might keep regenerating that way.” She drew a deep breath. “This is probably going to hurt a lot.”
“You wouldn’t believe how often people say that to me.”
“I’m serious.” She sterilised her hands. “Drinking is probably for the best tonight.”
