Chapter 21 - Roofs and Chesterfield Chairs #2
“You didn’t need to ring me. You could have just messaged.” My voice still carries that sense of betrayal that swallowed me during the meeting with the Chapter.
The atmosphere is not what I’m used to when I step inside her office.
This is not the welcoming space where I spent hours looking at the hundreds of books, perfectly aligned by size and colour, on the ceiling-high bookshelves.
The curtains are shut, and the yellow light that fights its way in from narrow openings is old and dusty, smelling like dried flowers and mouldy paper.
“And risk for whoever was with you to read our private conversation? You should be more careful now and limit your interactions with Galen.” Her voice is raw, and her eyes weary as if she hasn’t seen her bed in days.
How did she know?
“As you requested, I’m keeping my contact with him to a minimum, but I think he’s planning something for our birthday tonight, and I have no intention of rejecting his invite.”
I close the door behind me and move towards her like a scrawny foal still learning to walk. The Miss Popplewish sitting in front of me is not the one I’ve known all these years, and I don’t know how to behave.
She dismisses my comment with a hasty shake of her head. The armchair’s leather creaks like old bones when she stands, pressing both hands on the armrests. “Take a seat, please,” she motions toward her desk, where two less comfortable chairs await us.
Her hair is elegantly plaited and pinned on the crown of her head. In a sea of ginger, greying strands turn silver in the dusty light. Her long black skirt caresses the polished floor as she glides over it.
I blink quickly, averting my eyes from her ethereal figure.
“No, thanks. I’m not planning to stay long.
What is it?” I would’ve never imagined being able to use such a tone in her presence.
And yet, I cannot shake off the feeling that she’s lost the privilege of being called my mentor and role model.
Popplewish inhales deeply. “As you wish. I just wanted to review our plan to ensure you’re prepared. Perhaps you were too shocked that night, and some details may have gotten lost.”
There is only her desk between us, which I’m glad of because I would probably start vomiting all my rage on her instead of digging my nails under the edge of the wooden furniture.
Or at least try to, as I don’t think Popplewish will let me scream and shout inside her office for long before restraining me.
Instead, I tap a finger to my temple, leaning over her desk, “Oh, don’t worry, all the details are branded in my memory. As well as the faces of the Chapter. As to Galen and I—stay out of it. I’m the last, if not the only one, who doesn’t want to see him harmed.”
Her eyes narrow on me as she takes in my words. “That is not my wish either. Believe me, I know how important your friendship is.” She pauses to open one of the drawers and hands me an envelope. “This is why I needed to see you.”
I shrug dismissively and pull out the chair, ignoring the annoying sound of its legs as I drag it on the floor.
“Your new identity, address and contacts of Harvesters you might find useful should you need an extra pair of hands.”
I cautiously take the envelope between my fingers because my mind doesn’t stop whispering that anything offered by a Chapter member may now hurt me.
Once I would’ve asked her what happened to the back of her hands, where short, parallel scratches gleam still fresh—but she doesn’t deserve my concern.
I push away from the desk, flattening the envelope against my shirt as if to iron my nerves. “Why do we need to involve more people? I’ve never needed extras, and I certainly don’t now. Ruining an innocent’s life is already painful when done solo.”
Something sparks behind her eyes, and she holds my stare for a second, nodding in silence.
She then allows herself a too-long moment to lock the drawer and pick her words wisely.
“This will still be treated as a routine mission,” - a key clicks under her desk - “But we both know there is so much more at stake.”
She guides her attention back to me, distractedly fidgeting with the clasp of a thin chain that has a small, brass key dangling from it.
“And?” I press on.
“There is a chance it will last longer than expected, and you won’t be able to return as soon as you hoped.”
I slowly slide my arms to my sides, tightening my fingers around the envelope. “I thought Roden wanted his soul back as soon as possible. What am I supposed to do other than harvest it and come back to base?”
Popplewish runs a finger over the edge of the desk and, using the armrest of her chair for extra support, she stands, flattening the velvety skirt and creating lighter-shaded patterns where her hand has been.
The wall behind her desk would be utterly bare if not for a square painting of a small house surrounded by a well-kept garden, a lake, and soft hills towered over by a periwinkle sky. Whoever lived there must have felt very safe and protected.
“Are you sure you still want to do this?”
I swear Popplewish was standing against that frame until a moment ago, but when I blink at the sound of her voice, I realise she’s moved to one of the windows. The curtain is still shut. Her back is straight, and her posture is so serene that she would be a perfect addition to that painting.
When I move towards her, my steps echo too loudly and impolitely in the carefully designed room.
“I don’t recall being given the option of rejecting the offer,” I respond, more bitterly than intended.
She turns to me, and the picture of serenity bursts. Her hands are folded on her lap, and she rubs them against each other. For once, she’s the one averting her eyes from mine.
Eventually, she pinches her nose, studying me from over her glasses. There is something she’s holding back.
“If this is all?” I start making my way back to the door, but she holds up a hand.
“I know you’ve been through a lot, and everything seems forced upon you. But believe me when I say you’re the best Harvester for this mission. You’re brilliant, July, and I will say this just once: Do not let your feelings cloud your judgement.”
As much as her words should sound hypocritical, I can’t find the courage to laugh and tell her to shut up.
I nod slightly. “Can I go now?”
Please, I don’t want to hear any more. Finding out about Roden being ready to sacrifice one of his precious souls only because it is different. Only because Roden wasn’t able to control it. To make it obedient…That was enough to make me doubt our existence and purpose.
Her hand drops to her side. “Sometimes we have to play parts we don’t resonate with. I did mean it when I said I didn’t want to see Galen hurt. Or you. But sometimes breaking free may look like a long road that only leads to a precipice. You just need to remember that you’re not alone.”
“That does not make any sense, considering the Chapter has forced me away from the only person I can truly rely on.”
“It will,” she nods, toying with the chain around her neck.
She glances at the door behind me, then quickly beckons me over, sliding the necklace off and carefully lowering it onto her palm.
“I want you to take this. Take it with you to Horigos.”
Without letting me say anything, she takes my hand, folds the chain, and closes my fingers over it.
Incredulous, I shake my head, “But that opens your drawer. What am I supposed to— ”
“It has a twin. If you need to use it, you will know. But, for now, keep it safe.”
“From what?”
“From the precipice.”
I wiggle my hand free from hers. “A riddle? Really?”
At that, she smiles but with a hint of sadness. “A favour. I know I’m not in a position to ask for one. You can throw it away should you wish. But I hope you’ll give it at least a chance.”
I look down at the brass key now resting in my palm. “Surely it won’t hurt me more than you and Roden have already done,” I mutter with a shrug.
“He doesn’t need to know. Nobody does. Please.” She retreats to her desk.
I stare at her back for a long second before moving towards the door. But something is trailing behind me, the nagging thought that - maybe - I didn’t get everything straight.
I glance at Popplewish over my shoulder. She’s leaning over her desk, her fingers twitching as if trying to hold back her thoughts while she stares at the painting on the wall.
This is not right. With my hand already on the doorknob, I turn on my heels, slamming the door frame with frustration, “He’s just a person; he cannot control us—”
When she takes a deep breath, I hope—I genuinely hope…
But she proclaims as if reading a script, “We have to be grateful. We are his creatures. If it wasn't for him—”
“I would have probably still left my parents and made a better life for myself. I didn’t ask to be taken away or saved,” I snap.
“You don’t know what could have happened if I hadn’t let Roden train my gift.
I mean, am I not just about to go to Horigos to kill someone who’s been living a perfectly normal existence despite our fucking talent?
Despite Roden being completely, utterly absent from his life?
No frenzy, no violent episode. Has this poor bastard ever tried to steal a soul for the pure pleasure of it? ”
A big sigh. “Roden explained that—”
“What? That this Rogue may be behind a group of rebels capturing his precious souls? An assumption! We are following his orders based on freaking assumptions. Where are all these enemies ready to destroy our people? Galen and I have been to Horigos hundreds of times and never felt threatened.” I look at the hand I’ve just raised as if I could grab her shoulder from a distance and force her to look at me. My chest heaves.
“Explaining that is not my duty. I’m sorry, July.” Her voice is so fucking calm.
“Explain this then—Why have I never heard of a Rogue running after Horigeans to eat their souls? Am I so fucking brilliant that I truly catch them before shit happens? Tell me, did you ever see one of these mythical creatures?”
Popplewish’s shoulders drop, her fingers scratching so hard on the desk that I wouldn’t be surprised to see marks on its surface. “That. Is. Not something you want to see…”
I cock my head as if she could see my reaction even with her back turned.
“I can take it.”
She is shaking visibly, but her voice still demonstrates restraint when she says, “Don’t ask for truths you may regret knowing.”
“Why?”
She spins on her heels so fast I back against the door. Her face is pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Because the more you know, the more your arrangements with Roden will change.” Her breath catches in her throat.
“My deal is with the Chapter—”
“Our time is over...” Her eyes pierce me, imploring me to stop. I’m dismissed.
But is it fear I read in her eyes?
I look down at my shoes, defeated. The marble floor is so shiny beneath me that I can almost see my reflection, like on my first day in Libera when Miss P.
let me sit in one of her beautiful armchairs and offered me vanilla biscuits.
She held my hand for so long that day while I cried until my tears ran dry.
I missed my home—even my parents, a little—and had experienced the surreal journey from Horigos to Libera for the first time. I was shocked and nauseated.
My stomach is churning, like years ago, but for a different reason. And I doubt vanilla biscuits would help.
Popplewish speaks again softly, “Promise me you’ll come to me for any questions. Don’t go scavenging on your own. I know you don’t trust me anymore but... please, do not put your faith in anyone who may promise you an easy way out of this deal.”
“That will be a problem. Misplaced faith is my speciality, apparently.” I hold her gaze, forcing myself to sound final, adding, “After this mission, I want you to erase my memories. I want to start from scratch—no rebels, no deals, no Rogues…” I take a deep breath, “And if it doesn’t go well—”
“Nothing will happen to you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You’re right, but I know you.”
I mumble something, maybe a stupid thanks, and she smiles. But I’m not ready to return the feeling.
“Stay true to yourself, July.”
“Goodbye, Miss Popplewish.”