Page 325 of Alchemised
Shiseo considered for a minute. “It sounds complicated.”
She looked down. “I think I’m going to try at least.”
Crowther showed callous interest. “If you wish. If you kill Bayard, it will spare us a mouth to feed.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m trying to be helpful.”
His lip curled. “When I want something, Marino, I’ll tell you.”
They’d just received word that Kaine had been dispatched to Hevgoss on a diplomatic mission without warning. He hadn’t even had time to tell her, he’d just sent an encoded message on one of the radio channels, and then he was gone. No goodbye.
THE ONLY THING GOING WELL was Lila’s pregnancy. Lila was bored but healthy, healthier than Helena had seen her in years. The pregnancy showed no risk of miscarriage.
“Are you all right?” Lila asked. Helena had her hand on Lila’s stomach, her eyes closed, trying to separate Lila’s louder heartbeat from the baby’s in an attempt to tell if it felt healthy.
Foetal heartbeats were much faster, but it was confusing to sense two people simultaneously.
Helena opened her eyes, dry and burning from exhaustion.
“I’m fine,” she said, though she felt as if she were bleeding to death inside. She’d seen so little of Kaine, and now he was gone and she didn’t know when he’d return. Her days were spent waiting for people to die, no longer even trying to save them.
Lila looked sceptical. “You don’t look fine. You don’t look like you sleep at all. Pace said you were badly injured. Are you recovered? You know better than anyone how important full recovery is.”
Helena shook her head. “It’s not that. My shifts are longer now but they’re not hard. I need to go, I have—more work.”
Lila spoke as she started to stand. “You don’t say it, but you think I’m selfish, don’t you?”
Helena sighed, staring down at her hands. “You’ve been through a lot; I don’t blame you for wanting something. I just don’t understand why you want this right now. You should at least go to Novis where you’ll be safe.” She shrugged. “Maybe having the Principate’s heir would be enough to convince them to send some medical supplies.”
Lila had thus far refused to “come out of quarantine,” and was still pretending to be contagious with bog cough.
“I want to wait a little longer,” Lila said. “Just to be sure.”
RHEA AND TITUS WERE WAITING in one of the private rooms. Helena had written to Rhea, telling her that there was a possible treatment opportunity that she wanted to discuss.
“What would it entail exactly?” Rhea asked, gripping Titus by the arm to keep him from wandering.
“It would be a series of procedures,” Helena said, rubbing her hands against her black habit, trying to get her palms dry. “It’s similar to what I tried earlier this year, but I know how to control the reaction now. If we worked slowly, with short procedures, followed by recovery periods, I think Titus will adapt to the process. And then I can attempt to heal him without causing the reaction he had last time.”
Rhea squeezed Titus’s hand, leaning towards Helena, her eyes bright. “So you’ve done this before?” Her voice trembled with eagerness.
Helena cleared her throat, wanting to temper expectations. “Not this exactly. But a related procedure. It’s not without risk, though. Are you familiar with mithridatism?”
Rhea shook her head.
Helena drew a deep breath. “It’s a method of developing immunity to poison through low dosage. The process of going deep enough to heal Titus will have—similarities; he’ll have a sort of immune response to my resonance, in the form of brain fevers. We’ll have to monitor them, keep them under control. If they’re too high, we’ll have to take longer breaks. The goal will be building up his tolerance for my resonance in the delicate parts of the brain.”
That was all mostly true, with only a few details omitted.
Rhea nodded. “Yes—yes—whatever you—”
The door opened before she could finish speaking and Luc entered, followed by Sebastian.
“Rhea, what are you doing?” Luc asked, his voice breathless.
Rhea looked startled by the intrusion. “Helena’s found a way to heal Titus.”
Luc looked at Helena, his eyes hard, bright, and feverish. “You can’t be serious.”
