Page 26 of The Souls Harvest
Evelyn
“Ineed you to leave as soon as possible,” I beg Galen.
“Don’t you think we’ve been spotted already? Roden is probably looking at us right now,” Galen huffs a laugh.
“Sarcasm won’t help us. And put that hand down. Sometimes you look more like…Never mind…” I say, glancing over my shoulder as I pace in front of him, massaging my right temple.
“I’m just waving a virtual white flag. Are we all not on the same side?” He shrugs quickly, still holding July in his arms.
It hurts to see him this protective, as if July may turn to dust if anyone else but him touches her.
But I know he is right. Surely Rodenis checking our every move, and I can’t start an argument over who should carry July, risking the impression that I’m too involved.
“Fine. I’ll make something up but don’t linger around here too long. Just get changed and go. You know how to move around HQ,” I concede.
I should’ve noticed the signs years ago, but trying to break their bond now is impossible, if not dangerous.
The way he studies July’s face, checking the rhythm of her breath. The way his thumb gently strikes her temple while his hand cradles her head…
“Please, lead on,” Galen snaps when he notices I’m staring.
The entrance hall greets us with its usual scent of nothingness. Despite having walked on its marble floors hundreds of times, I still admire its perfection, so different from the building’s decaying façade.
This place is so quiet and silent, I should be able to hear myself and Galen breathing, maybe even our heartbeats. Yet, I don’t even notice Galen approaching from my right, his footsteps so light despite carrying his and July’s weight.
“Are you sure?” His voice should echo from one end of the hall to the other, but the rules of sound don’t apply here.
“Certain. I’ll go meet the Chapter and take care of this matter.” I stretch my arms towards him despite the look of doubt on his young face.
“Where will you take her?” He gingerly lowers July’s body, letting her tiptoes touch the floor, her knees bending like those of a puppet with loose strings.
“He wants to see her in the screens room.” I realise my mistake when it’s already too late to take it back.
“Why?” Galen cocks his head and moves a step back, taking July with him.
“I don’t know, I swear. I guess Roden is reassessing the situation.” I scan the room, leaning forwardand whispering, “We all are...”
Galen studies my face, sighs and eventually offers me July as if giving me a rare and fragile piece of porcelain. “That can only mean Roden will tell her the truth this time.” Not a question.
“He didn’t confirm, but it may be inevitable. He knows this is his last chance.” I take July in my arms, nodding a wordlessthank you.“Now, go. I’ll meet you back in my office when it’s all done.”
He nods, extending one hand and hovering it over July’s face before he turns his back and silently walks away with his head bowed, speaking volumes of pain and worry.
But wounds will heal somehow if we play this right.
The lift to the screens room is strategically hidden behind a tall portrait on the left side of the hall. It depicts an idyllic scene of Libera with students playing in its gardens, surrounded by flowers that have never really grown on the island.
When I touch my fingertips to the frame, it slides to one side, as if responding to my unspoken request, revealing the creation of a genius mind. A lift, that is, seamlessly built into the wall, making it impossible to notice when closed. Like the frame, it also seems to listen to my prayer,Let me in and be done with this, as it opens under my touch.
July is no longer the little girl I brought to Libera; her trained muscles twitch and quiver in my hold. As much as I would like, Ican’t hold her up any longer. Once in the lift, I gently prop her against one side and help her body slowly slide down, like an abandoned doll, in the corner of the lift.
I’m not a stupid piece of stuffed rag,her voice complains in my head.
The lift begins descending almost immediately. Although there's no apparent source of artificial light inside, it remains bright, as if some of the illumination from the hall is trapped in here with us.
“Welcome, Evelyn Popplewish,” a metallic voice greets me. I don't react; I've heard that voice so many times before. “Which level?”
“To the screens,” I quickly answer.
