Page 17 of The Souls Harvest
But as much as we both may want this, I bite my lips, chastisingmy will.
“You should go,” I say, stretching a hand to caress his cheek. My voice is not even close to being as strong as I’d like.
He stops, but the warm breath escaping his mouth keeps tickling my skin, full of promises I’m too scared to listen to.
“I’ll miss all of you,” he mutters against my bare arm before stepping away.
“Out!” I force some authority out of me to sound convincing. And for my sanity.
“Getoutofhere…” I push him down to the corridor and the door, opening it for him. The students sharing my floor are used to Galen and me bickering any other day; it’ll sound like another silly argument to them.
He lingers by the threshold, his face still flushed a soft pink. “There is something I wanted to tell you for a while now…”
“And you will when the right time comes,” I answer before he can say anything else. The last thing I need now is some personal confession that will only make the day I have to leave a bit more painful.
He throws his arms up, “But you didn’t even let me finish.”
I shake my head, rushing him out into the corridor outside my room, keeping my head down like a small bull. “Tonight, okay?”
Seeing him drop his head in defeat and turn away from me hurts a little. But I can hear him chortling as he goes, “I’ll be downstairs at eight sharp. Don’t be late... for once.” His laugh echoes across the corridor, audible even when I shut the door.
Bestsound ever.
Chapter 9 - Shrimp and Ranks
July
Isometimes ask myself what my life would have been like if Roden had never found me.
My name would probably be carved amongst those on the tall, white stones surrounding the very edges of Libera, like pale fingers stretched in a final cry for mercy. One of those children Roden failed to sense in time, who developed the gift too late and were damned to lose their minds because there was nobody there to train them.
Roden keeps saying there will come a day when we will save those souls, even if their ravenous talent has consumed their minds. But, for now, I can only harvest their souls and deliver them to him for a painless end.
Not quite the same end the Nistarei receive instead. They are turned into empty vessels piled in controlled areas, where our Writers try to find a way to reuse their bodies and lingering memories.
I realise I’ve been staring at the square outside my window for too long when my forehead becomes numb.
Primrose Square is quiet this evening. A young couple holds hands under the marble arches leading to the beach. Beyond the couple, the slim shadows of the torches dotting the shore of Libera stretch on the sand before disappearing into the water.
This is where I spend almost half of my monthly wage—a place with an ocean view and a perfect hiding spot to spy on other people’s everyday lives.
Libera’s selection of restaurants is quite limited; students prefer not to spend money when the Academy kitchen is open twenty-four-seven and affordable. But I promised Galen I would treat him tonight. Besides, expensive food and service mean fewer ears eager to listen to your every word.
Our chefs try hard to keep up with Horigean cuisine. Still, the list of local producers is very short because we need to ensure that only a few trusted people know how to find Libera so as not to risk the secrecy of our location.
Sipping by a window at my now lukewarm drink, I spot Galen strolling down the road with his nose up in the air, listening to music. His favourite way to cool down and find the right way to be civil with a friend he’s just argued with. I don’t see him dressed up so often, but when he does, I know he means business. And I am hisbusiness tonight.
When I lift my highball glass, it catches the reflection of a bike flashing in and out of the street lights opposite the restaurant.
Why is Lucretia cycling so fast alone at this time?She’s not famous for being spotted on her own. I try to hide behind the thin slice of cucumber drowning in my drink, and I re-emerge from my pathetic hideout only when I’m sure she hasn’t detected my presence and is not coming back to ask me about Galen again.
The bell dangling above the door frame announces the arrival of a new guest. With his charming smile and refined appearance, his hair pulled back, and his strategically unshaven but still perfectly groomed stubble, he looks so in control and the perfect fit for whatever situation he finds himself in.
“I think someone’s waiting for me…” I hear Galen saying to a young man behind the reception desk.
“Forgive me if I don’t pull out your chair,” I tease him after the host walks him to our table.
“Never mind, you’re already paying for the bottle of the most expensive wine on the list that I’ve just ordered for us,” he winks.
