Page 11 of The Souls Harvest
But Galen knows I don’t fit into either of those groups, and hewillpester me to find out why I didn’t back down from the offer sooner or later.
Chapter 5 - Circles
July
Walking down the stairs should be easier than climbing. Gravity and bullshit like that. Well, it is not. Try rushing down ten floors, with a side of sleep deprivation and the guilt of keeping secrets from the person that matters the most to you—plus the prickling feeling that that person is probably doing the same with you.
Galen didn’t mention he had a meeting with Miss P. today…The thought accompanies me until I lean against the sturdy portal of the building, inhaling with my eyes closed.
Spring is sailing towards Libera’s shores, carrying the smell of blooming almond trees and the excited voices of young Harvesters fantasising about their first crossing to Horigos with a senior Reaper.
The Harvesters became my family when I turned five. Still, I swear I notice kids not older than three running around the corridors, pretending to perform the soul-picking ritual on one another, still unaware of the invisible scars the actual event would leave inside their minds.
Some of us were born and raised here, like Galen. However, a thin strain of our nature still hides in some parts of Horigos, in the veins of mixed-blood beings, children of the forbidden unions between Horigeans and Harvesters that Roden declared illegal at the peak of the Great Famine.
Roden has only a small window of time to find those Harvesters and bring them to Libera before their blood - the very core of our talent that Horigeans hate and desire in equal measure - turns wild and destroys their minds and souls from within.
I’m the living proof, and for some fucking stupid coincidence, I’m the only one who can rip their chest apart and pick their soul before their untrained gift turns them into monsters capable of devouring innocent Horigeans’ soulsandHarvesters’. It’s not a surprise that someone is trying to get to the Rogues before Roden.
I don’t have crisp memories of my life before. Parents, yes, I had two of those, but their faces are a blurry mush of faded pictures. All I can remember is their relief—and mine—when Roden sent Popplewish to collect me a few weeks after my talent manifested. I hope our Writers gave them better memories than the ones they had with me.
“July… Come, join us for a quick debrief.” I forgot that Spring also means that Mr. Tydell takes his post-op talks out in Sagetia’s largest park...Damn it, Galen, it’s all your fault. I was too busy guessing why he kept his meeting a secret to notice I walked right into the circle of Mr. Tydell’s opinion-sharing group.
“Another time, Mr. Tydell,” I say with a stupid smile plastered onmy face, pretending I’m searching for someone far away.
“Only for a few minutes. I’m aware you’ve just come back from Cleryce. Our junior students would certainly benefit from your fresh memories.”
I shoot him a quick glare before running my eyes over the faces of the six young Harvesters who sat cross-legged in a circle. I was one of them years ago, losing myself in Popplewish’s words.
“Another time.” I quickly dismiss Alphonse Tydell’s hopeful expression with a shrug, scratching my neck as I slowly retreat.
In the distance, the castle towering over the island like a silent guardian made of stone becomes smaller with every step I take away from Tydell. Legend says Roden relocated it in one night from Horigos to Libera; the impossibility of such an event makes it an excellent subject for wowing junior students.
I continue walking backwards, keeping my eyes trained on the peaceful image of the castle, when chaos strikes me with the sound of an unexpected question, from a too-well-known and not very welcome voice. “Did you ask him?”
“I’m sorry, what? Who…?” I spin around.
Burnt-orange eyes, long lashes and pink cheeks make me recoil as if facing a hungry badger. “Oh, Lucretia… I didn’t hear you coming…” I wish I had. Or, at least, possess the power to disappear in the blink of an eye to avoid wasting time with her.
A well-rehearsed flick of her hair. “Well, of course not. I’m mastering the art of soft walking. You know I’m in line to be the next Silent End?”
“Yeah, that’s not really a title…” I don’t have time to argue with a child. “What do you want, Lue?” I ask, pretending I don’t know what she’s alluding to. Perhaps she will go away if treated like an annoying fly.
But she curls her fingers under her chin, giving me dreadful puppy eyes. A lion’s cub ready to strike, that’s all I can see. “What did he say? Please don’t leave me hanging, July. My final co-crossing is in a few days, and there’s no better Harvester I can think of to go with me.”
You sneaky little viper. “Oh, that… I didn’t have time to ask Galen, sorry.” A shrug and a fake smile, I’m not giving her more. Galen and I have been granted the chance to accompany junior Reapers and Deleteri before they start solo missions, and Lucretia picked Galen as her designated victim.
She pouts, taking my hand in hers, patting its back. “I hope you’re not procrastinating because you think, well…You know what they say about Harvesters co-crossing—”
“I don’t.”
I do, but I don’t have time to explain that even if they cross the Grace Wards together, they will not fall in love because nothing romantic or magical happens during crossings, just skin and bones stretching and adjusting to the change of dimensions like a mass of dough being reshaped by invisible hands.
However, I do have time to shatter her perfectly curated, inflated ego. I cover her hand with mine, patting it like her with mine, and croon, “I’m truly sorry, Lue, but I believe you’re strong enough tounderstand that - maybe - a Deleteri leader just doesn’t want to co-cross because he has more urgent matters to care about. I’m sure you can pick someone less…Just someone less.” I step back to enjoy the friendly mask dropping from her face.
She starts sobbing.Oh, she is good. If I don’t say something now, she won’t let me go, especially when we both spot a small group of girls walking towards us.
No. I can’t deal with her court of geese.
