Page 27 of The Souls Harvest
“Access granted.”
The descent is smooth, as if the lift is gliding through oil. It’s a pity that great minds like the one behind this structure can no longer set foot in Libera.
When greatness destroys greatness,someone said once, but my time for reminiscing ends as the lift comes to a soft halt as if it’s landed on a pile of pillows, and its door opens at the most eerie and dreadful room of the entire island.
I pick July up, relieved to hear her breathing regularly when I help her out of the lift.
Today, the room feels different. Not that I enjoy spending any time down here, but the comforting melody of a piano masterfully played warms up the space and softens the dull grey of the walls.
Until Roden’s voice clashes with the notes, “I decided to make it morehomey.Isn’t this what the students like to say?” Sitting at thepiano with his back to me, he sways left to right, running his hands over the black and white keys.
I adjust July's body when one of her arms slides down mine, and her head, partially covered by her hair, rests against my shoulder.
“Whatever pleases you,” I reply from the opposite side of the room.
Roden continues to play and asks, “Do you know this piece? It was composed ages ago by a Horigean musician, a visionary,I’d rather say. It’s about white clouds. Inspiring, isn’t it?”
The notes dim and fade until they are nothing but indistinct sounds among the many disembodied voices that constantly fill the room.
“It is certainly beautiful,” I say as I move in his direction, trying to sound relaxed. I have a feeling he can see me despite his position. Besides, not even the Silent End moves undetected in his presence, and his senses can always tell if someone is walking towards him as a humble ally or hiding a knife behind their back, to use at the right moment against him.
“I believe you havesomethingfor me, my child?” Without notice, he stands tall, his spine straight as if age got bored of him in his thirties and forgot he was meant to grow old.
“Someone—yes. She is still unconscious, I’m afraid—” I chew the inside of my cheek to silence any possible bitter remark.
“I can take it from here, my sweet Evelyn. You’re free to go.” There is nothing paternal in his voice.
“But—” I try to buy some time.
He ignores me and turns around to grab his walking cane, left by one side of the piano, and to lower the lid over the keys. His long fingers let go; the lid slams with a thundery sound that fills the room for a long second. “You’ve done what was asked. Now get ready for the meeting. Unless you have other plans?” Roden spins on his shiny black shoes.
His smile freezes the blood in my veins. I clench my teeth but hold my chin up. “She should wake up in less than an hour and may need food and water before anything else.”
Every time his cane touches the ground, my nerves react as if an invisible hand is sticking needles in my limbs. He gets closer and closer and only stops when there are barely a few steps between us. I can only stare at the cane’s tip as he extends it towards my face.
“I’ve always allowed my children too much freedom, and you are making me regret it.” His pale grey eyes narrow to hard ice chips, the lack of pupils making his gaze impossible to hold for too long.
I don’t have time to react; he’s too fast, and I realise he’s hit my hand with the walking stick only when burning pain spreads up to my wrist. My jaw is so tense that I fear my teeth will shatter, but it’s the only way to maintain the undignified, submissive façade required in our creator’s presence. To reassure him that I’m still subject to his self-glorified patriarchal figure.
“Apologies, Roden, but we won’t get much out of her if she doesn’t even have the strength to stand or talk,” I bow my head slightly. “But, of course, you know better.” I reluctantly ease my grip around July’s waist and slide her arm off my shoulder.
“Indeed, I do,” he chirps, opening his arms to welcome July’s body, which nestles into Roden’s hug as if responding to a call to safety I can’t hear.
“If looks could kill,” Roden whispers, looking straight into my eyes before gesturing to the wall behind me, where the lift awaits me.
I stare at him for a long minute for a glimpse of the fatherly figure he still represents to some of us. The first of our kind who stopped hiding his ability to handle souls as if they were pieces of clay and instead began trading them, taking advantage of those left poor and hopeless by the Great Famine, selling the souls of the Horigeans who didn’t pay him back in time to the highest bidder.
But all I can see when he huffs a cold laugh in my face, tightening his arms around July’s body, is the man who turned us into Harvesters, as Horigeans started to call us after realising that the souls of those who couldn’t hold up their end of the bargain would never return where they belonged. The man who eventually forced us to abandon Horigos to seek safety in Libera when the Horigeans rose against us.
As if reading my thoughts, Roden leans forward and gently kisses my cheek. “You’ve always been my favourite. The rebel daughter who came back; the smartest. Too intelligent, perhaps.”
I shiver the moment he steps away, and my eyes fall on July, so defenceless in his hold. I know he will keep her safe, but my heart skips a beat.
Safe doesn’t mean unharmed.
Chapter 15 - Roden's Eyes
July
