Page 43 of The Souls Harvest
“Sof, I’m sorry for the other night. Hope you’re—”
“I’m fine... Great, actually.” It’s okay if I sound abrupt. The last thing I want is to start a conversation about what he thinks has happened, and my addiction to coffee sounds like a plausible excuse.
I snatch one cup from his hand, and I hide my face behind the swirling comforting aroma. “And where’s my doughnut?”
For a little while, I want to believe we’re going to be okay, and when he loops his arm with mine, I’m glad the Chapter made him forget.
The colonnade lining the perimeter of my building offers the right amount of shade, but today, I want to spend my day in sunlight—real, natural light—not some magic trick created by Roden. I shake my head to swat away his face from my mind.
Galen stares at me, frowning. “Are you okay? Is the coffee too bitter?”
“No, it’s perfect. I’m just... headache leftovers, I think.” I take a sip of coffee that burns my tongue, but at least saves me from saying anything else—anything inappropriate.
We walk in silence for a while, not an awkward one, butdefinitely one longer than usual. I pretend to find everything around us worthy of my attention: trees, the gardeners tending to overgrown bushes, a chipped tile of the square fountain. Anything but Galen’s serene face.
“So,” he stops, and I almost bump against his back. He looks around, searching for a bench. “What about our usual spot? Then, you talk, and I listen.”
Oh, no…
When he steps in front of the sun and I finally look at him, all I can see is his dark silhouette—not his face or expression, but he may have noticed me flinching.
Inhaling. Exhaling light purple puffs. He doesn’t know…
“Listen to what?” I ask vaguely, turning my head towards our favourite bench, making sure nobody’s there and distracting him from looking straight at me.
But he’s not taking his eyes off me. “You know... Your inconsiderate, dangerous decision to go back to Horigos only days before our birthday? Your unbelievable desire to do something I consider life-threatening? Did I miss anything? Nothing you would say will change my mind, Sof. Too soon—whereverthey’re sending you. Just too soon.”
I blink, wondering if the little argument we had in my room had distracted him so much that he forgot about some details of my next mission, like my destination, for a start. Or, perhaps Lily Drestall didn’t stop at our dinner and rewrote his memory entirely.
“Oh, that, yes, right.” At least no mention of our dinner. “Sorry,forgot about that.” I slap the air with my free hand and walk past him, “There’s not much to say, to be honest. I don’t even know the name of my crop yet.”
The bench is still damp from the night dew when I sit on it. I let the smell of coffee tickle my nostrils, trying to remember the sense of peace of all the mornings spent with Galen in this square.
A few moments later, he joins me. “Name or not, I still don’t like the fact that you kept it from me,” he says in a low voice, scanning my face.
I don’t like seeing him so lost in thought. So I stomp my feet, “Where’s my food? Me. Hungry.” I keep my mouth open like a hatchling, pointing at my belly. Embarrassing—but I make him smile.
“Close your eyes,” he says gently.
I obey, and soon after, the smell of something sweet captures my senses. “Aha, my favourite!” I exclaim, performing a little sat-down dance, shaking my fists and swinging my legs.
“You can open your eyes now,” Galen whispers in my ear.
I do as asked, with a growing smile when I notice Galen dangling a jelly doughnut in front of me.
“So tell me, what would you like your Nistares to be this time? Some kind of torn artist with a passion for pain as a source of creativity, or someone who talks to vegetables and crystals and thinks we all come from dragons?” He bumps my shoulder, teasing me.
I savour his words like the grains of sugar cracking between myteeth. The closer my crossing approaches, the more I fear we will never have another conversation like this.
Comforted by the intimacy of the moment, I let my thoughts wander. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could pick our crop instead of waiting for Roden to assign us one?”
Opposite us, a man, pushing a trolley full of boxes of peaches and apples, stops and leans against a lamp post to catch his breath and wipe beads of sweat off his forehead. Our eyes met. He’s not someone I recognise, but I expect the Chapter to have ears and eyes everywhere.
Stop being paranoid. He’s probably an approved courier from Horigos, delivering supplies to our restaurants.
“Would that be better, though?” Galen says before taking a sip of his coffee. “Knowing too much about the soul you’ll harvest? What if you happen tolikethem?”
I turn my head slowly, keeping eye contact with the stranger for as long as I can. “That is not a thing. This is why we wear masks in their presence—to avoid accidentalcontamination.”
