He’d been academic track like her. Not a specialised combat alchemist like Lila, or double track, the way Luc had been. Why would a guild heir be hunting down and killing all the surviving Resistance members?
The more time she had to think about it, the more a seething sense of hatred filled her at knowing, even distantly, someone so evil.
In a way, it was strangely poetic that it was Helena who’d been brought as a captive to Spirefell.
She’d beaten Ferron before. If she was careful, and clever, she would do it again.
When Ferron didn’t appear onthe second day, Helena forced herself into the hallway, ignoring the way her organs shrivelled and her throat closed. She hugged the wall, letting her fingers trace the wainscotting, not caring that the dust crept into the grooves of her finger
