Page 22 of The Souls Harvest
I let the phone beep for as long as possible to make sure I’m alone again. His presence lingers in my car like the memory of a nightmare in the minutes after waking.
The sight of the wood shakes something inside me, and I draw back my tears before they roll down.
The Silent End does notcry.
Chapter 12 - Voices in the Woods
July
Riding the end of Winter’s tail, the sea breeze blows humid and sticky on my face.
Galen must have picked me up at some point and carried me through the woods. My senses switch on and off, but I’m sure I’ve only seen trees for the past hour. Or was it longer?
The steady sound of leaves, the voices of nocturnal animals, and the image of the trees chasing one another, as if on a conveyor belt, threaten to lull me to sleep.
But Galen’s voice keeps me awake as he repeats the same words I’ve heard since this weird dream started, “We’re almost there... she can help you... stay with me…”
I’ve been in the woods before. Every student old enough to understand the hedonistic meaning of a romantic night walk amongst the trees has spent at least a couple ofenjoyablehours hidden in the thicket of this place. Tonight, however, there are only shadows and disembodied voices lurking amongst the branches and tall grass.
My fingers search for a piece of Galen to grab and cling onto. “Don’t leave me…” I implore, weakly.
“I’m not going anywhere, July.” The moonlight cannot filter through the intricate pattern of foliage, and it isn’t easy to read his expression. But it hits me as he whispers my name.
I’m not going anywhere, July.Two voices telling me the same phrase mix inside my mind. This is more than the awful aftermath of wine on an empty stomach.
I bite my lips, and the pain grants me an extra second of lucidity before whatever substance did this to me knocks me down again. “Poison…”
I’m not sure if Galen can see my face in the darkness. I know he’s listening, but all I can hear in response is his laboured breath and his heart pounding against my ear.
My head bounces against his shoulder as I taste my tears before they roll down my chin. Maybe this is what the Nistarei experience in their last moments: lightness and abandonment.
I close my eyes like I saw some of them doing when I touch my vials to their chests, demanding access to their naked souls. They don’t want my face to be the last thing they see.
I’m still alive. Though—not yet fully awake. The absence of words from Galen doesn’t help my foggy brain. All I can do to stay alert is to focus on my thoughts. Conjectures. Questions that, if presented to Popplewish, would only get preset answers—safe answers.
What difference does having a good soul make if we harvest them when their deadline expires instead of granting more time? Are empty vesselsabandoned in the Fields really just that—empty bodies?
They teach us that good Horigeans’ souls are stripped of all their memories and sent back to Horigos, cocooned inside newborns. A few chosen ones every week.
But who gives us the right to pick and choose which soul is worthy of a new chance at life?
Galen’s steady walk cradles me in and out of a haze, but I gather my last energies to mumble, my lips dry and sticky at once, “Our gift… Does this make us better than the Herionos? What about the red souls? What aboutmyRogues?” I’m not sure if Galen has replied, but I’m sure he’s stopped for a moment.
Is this the sea lapping on the shore?When did we get out of the woods?
“Your suspicions were right then.” A muffled female voice breaks the silence.
Darkness is everywhere, but Galen shields me from the shadows dancing above me. He adjusts my half-unconscious body against his and replies to the woman, “Partially. She only has fragments of proof, but she’s smart, and it won’t take her long to figure out the rest.”
“Do you think she remembered anything else? Did you ask her?”
“Well, Evelyn, you and the rest of the Chapter should have raised the issuebeforegranting her permission with such shortnotice, but to answer your question…No, she did it because of her need to understand people’s nature and hers. I think there’s nothing elseheneeds to worry about. For now. As for you—prepare yourself for a bigger concern…”
Galen gently places his hand on my shoulder, smoothing out the wrinkles in my shirt. If only I had the strength to lift my head and say something. Has he lowered his voice, or am I just fading away?
The noise of an electric car window opening catches my attention, and I try to squint my eyes, focusing on the woman’s voice when she asks from inside the car, “What do you mean?”
Popplewish? It can’t be…
