Page 321 of Alchemised
“We lost that much?”
“No, but you don’t have the forces to hold more,” Kaine said grimly, swinging down and helping her carefully off Amaris’s back.
She was nauseated with pain, fighting hard to breathe as she squeezed Kaine’s hand, but she couldn’t bring herself to say goodbye. She had a growing fear of anything final. She could feel it all coming to an end.
“Be careful,” was all she said.
“Helena, please—” His voice broke, stopping her in her tracks.
She turned back, and he gripped her shoulders.
She knew what he wanted to ask her, could see it in his eyes. Run away and don’t come back.
But he knew she wouldn’t. He swallowed, not meeting her eyes. “Don’t get hurt again,” he said instead. “Don’t—”
She rose up on her toes and cut him off with a kiss.
“Be careful,” she whispered. “Don’t die.”
WHEN HELENA APPEARED AT THE gates in boys’ clothes, struggling to breathe, her reception was one of far more suspicion than joy. She was placed in a holding cell for an hour before Crowther appeared to have her let out.
“You sure?” the guard said to him. “She’s been listed among the dead for almost a month.”
“Yes, she was found by one of the splinter factions,” Crowther said. “I knew they’d send her back eventually. Let her out.”
Helena didn’t know if the splinter factions of Resistance fighters existed at all, or if they were an invention to cover up all of Crowther’s illicit activities. A great deal of Kaine’s intelligence and activities were attributed to these alleged groups.
Crowther looked as if he had not slept in weeks. His face was haggard, his eyes bloodshot, and he appeared mostly angry about having to go out of his way to get Helena released.
Helena wanted to know what had happened while she’d been gone, but before the door of the holding cell was unlocked, he was already walking away.
“Go to the hospital. The matron’s on shift. I’ll deal with you tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder.
Matron Pace wept at the sight of her. “You’re alive! I should have gone. When I heard they sent you—I—”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Helena said. She was exhausted from the flight and journey back. There was a grinding pain in her chest. She pressed her hand gingerly against her sternum, trying to relieve the pressure.
Pace ushered her into a space enclosed by curtains. “How did you survive?”
Helena stuck with the vagaries of Crowther’s excuse. “I don’t really remember. We were in the hospital and there was another explosion. When I woke, I’m not sure where I was. I’d had an operation, and I was mostly left to recover.”
“Let me see.”
If she were Pace, she’d be the same, so she allowed her clothes to be removed and the chest brace carefully unfastened to reveal the scarring down her chest.
“Oh.” Pace’s hand trembled, but then she inspected it more carefully. “This is … good work.”
She’d clearly expected some kind of back-alley surgery utilising twine and kitchen knives. “Whoever their surgeon is, we should try to bring them in.”
“I never saw who it was,” Helena said. “I’m getting better, but my resonance is still unstable.”
Pace attempted a smile, but it was more grimace. “Fortunately, chelator is one of the few things we still have in sufficient supply.”
“How bad are things?” Helena asked.
Pace did not stop moving as she continued to examine Helena and began prepping her arm for an intravenous drip. “I only hear things secondhand.”
“How bad are people saying it is?”
