Page 99 of The Souls Harvest
“You’ve never known how because I always asked you to stop before you could find the way.”
I gasp. For all the times I accepted this mission, Galen risked his life to sabotage Roden’s will.
I run a hand over his arm, inviting him to face me - the real me, not the Harvester who could harm him - the one he knows best. “Was it because you knew I might regret it?”
A nod. “Yes, that and,” - he scratches his neck - “Kris is the living proof that the idea of Rogues that Roden has been feeding us for years is not completely true. And the Herionos…”
“Herionos? What do the Herionos have to do with Kris? And you. And the people in there?” I point at the building behind me, my hand shaking.
Galen’s silent response, the spark in his eyes. Everything about him screams something I’m not ready to hear—not after learning that I don’t simplybelongto Roden—I’m his fuckingchild!
My legs start shaking, and I slam my hand on a tree to hold myself upright.
Galen rushes to my aid, but I shake my head.
“Remember the man who attacked you on the roof?”
“How could I not? You told mehewas one of the bad people.”
“And I also said it wasn’t as easy as it seemed.” His lips quirk with a bashful smile.
The fresh scent of the leaves wafts over me when a gentle wind plays with the tree I’m leaning against. My head starts clearing. I raise an eyebrow, “Bad-Herionos?”
The sound of Galen’s laugh, something I forgot I used to love so much, fills the air. “Sort of.”
“And is what Mack called New Hera…good-Herionos?” I hate that my vocabulary seems to have shrunk to that of a three-year-old child.
He approaches me, leaning against the same tree and giving mean amused side-eye. “Just the type who’s trying to make things better for everyone—Harvesters and not.”
I lay my back against the trunk, my head resting against the young, smooth bark. I turn my head to the side, studying Galen’s serene and relaxed face as if a boulder has been lifted off his chest.
“Tabitha and the twins?”
Galen pushes away from the tree, stepping in front of me. “We all share the same ideal. Our mutual cause put us on each other’s path.”
“And Kris is with the good-Herionos as well.” Not a question, as otherwise he wouldn’t be allowed on HQ’s ground.
A carousel of feelings spins across Galen’s face—but guilt is not one of them when he grabs my shoulders and says, “Correct—and he’s the only family I have left.”
Chapter 37 - Home
July
Iwas told I was special. I was told my power was my strength.
And that was all a lie.
When I joined the Harvesters, I thought my talent was common, and I didn’t care because I was finally an anonymous grain in a sea of ears of wheat. I was happy to be a Reaper.
Popplewish told me only a few had the stamina to be trained into higher ranks. Like the Donatori, who can gently guide souls into their new vessels, or the Writers, who are masters in reshaping memories so that souls will only treasure the good they did, carrying it from their past lives into their new.
When she explained the role of the Deleteri, I promised myself I would never befriend one of them.
When a soul is too tainted, hopeless, they wipe it clean. Despicable memories, dark feelings, rotten passions—the Deleteri scrape souls to their very core, destroying even the little good they may have done in their past (and last) life, returning only dry crops. Their empty vessels are so sterile that they will neverhost a new soul and can only be abandoned in The Fields.
I broke that promise when she introduced me to a boy, too tall for his age, and with the sweetest smile.
A swarm of lies and secrets rings in my ears.
