Page 68 of The Souls Harvest
“Okay then,” Tabitha smacks her thighs, wrapped in worn, black leather trousers, “You can have a moment to curse what’s left of the island with your best repertoire of insults, and then off we fuck. I swear, every time I set foot on this island, my skin blisters.”
Every time?
I shake my head and step inside the pod, “I think I’m good,” I mutter.
Tabitha is a chatterbox, but one who’s not afraid to speak up.
“Have you done this before?” Tabitha is so tall, I feel like a puppy when I look at her. “I mean, crossing with an extra passenger?”
Tabitha smiles, her face so open and honest, then says, “I know you’re terrified, who wouldn’t be? But I was called here because I’m the only one who can help you now.”
I nod, and my attention moves to Galen, who looks peacefully asleep now, the pain gone from his face. “Do you think Roden knows you’re here?”
She looks around, distractedly chewing on a silver chain hidden beneath her black top, then exclaims, “Fuck, no! But if we spend another minute on this island, he probably will. He’s got eyes everywhere, love—Roden will hunt whoever hethinksis a traitor.And I’m top of his list.” Tabitha’s hands curl into large fists.
“But the Herionos attacked us…”
Her eyes darken, and she quickly glances at Galen.
“Yeah, well, if you want to survive out there, I’d suggest you review yourlabelsand forget whatever fairy tale Roden filled your little mind with.” She bites her thumbnail, concerned.
“What about the others?” I look over my shoulder at the island, at the large column of smoke rising to the sky.
“There is more to this island than you think,” Tabitha says, echoing my fears. If I hadn’t spent a night in a secret place covered in screens, I’d think she only wanted me to forget about the others and stop delaying our escape.
But, as easy as it would be for me to remain detached from this person, nothing about her screams danger. “Fine. Give me something to do.” A plea as I pin my hair up and off my face, trying to ignore the stickiness and the rough texture of dirt and soot coating it.
“Make sure Galen keeps breathing. I can’t watch over him and drive this old lady simultaneously.” She pats the pod’s wall. “She’s enjoyed too many rides.”
“What happens if he stops breathing halfway through our journey?” My chest rises as fear fills my ribcage.
Tabitha doesn’t reply; she doesn’t need to. She gestures for me to move further inside and reaches a hand out of the pod to pull down its heavy door, but not before scanning the sky one last time.
She lowers her eyes to the land and the hills, hesitating as ifallowing herself some time to say goodbye.
“Are you waiting for someone else to join?” I ask as her gaze shoots right and left.
Her head drops, bobbing hopelessly, her silver braids wrapping her shoulders like a cloak. Her movements are fluid and light when she turns, eventually closing the door.
I sit down next to Galen’s unconscious body to quiet the nervous spasms in my abdomen. The protocol requires us to fast for at least twelve hours before a crossing, but the little chocolate I shared with him over an hour ago is the least of my problems.
Someone outside the pod must constantly monitor velocity and trajectory. We travel through the Wards and in-between spaces, and the slightest miscalculation may take us to the wrong place, where nobody expects us—even worse, we can end up completely alone and missing bits of our body and mind.
Tabitha breaks the ominous silence, confirming my fears. “They’re close. We don’t have time to get undressed and test our equilibrium… We need to cross—now.”
When water starts streaming inside the pod, I force my mind to stop spinning back to the recent events.
He knew about it, and he let it happen to me.
I can’t take my eyes off of Galen, crumpled on the floor, unconscious, still finding it hard to believe that he is part of the Chapter as much as Evelyn Popplewish. My mind gallops to her.On which side does she stand? Was she on the tower?
Tabitha’s voice is a noise in the background, a presence mysenses haven’t fully recorded yet.The more I try to focus, the more the cramped space around me blurs. So do my thoughts.
“You knew…” I mouth.
I had no time to pick my side in the chaos of heat, raging flames and crumbling stones. To weigh Galen’s version of the story.
Crossings are silent. They’re timed by a sequence of regular breaths and the whoosh of water. While our two worlds stretch and shrink, we roll and float as the pod pushes through the Grace Wards.
