Chapter 22 - Lights #2
I walk to where the parapet opens onto a balcony with the best view of all the towers, and I let out a loud sigh as my attention roams over the vast park at the foot of the castle’s main entrance, dotted by little pagodas with benches and tables for lunch breaks and quiet reading sessions.
The round square in the middle lies empty and tranquil, its quiet only broken by the intermittent spurts of water of the twins’ green-tiled fountains at the edge of the gated perimeter surrounding the Blind Wise.
I prop my elbows on the parapet, closing my eyes to better enjoy the night breeze on my face.
“You’re such a weird creature, July Crimson,” Galen mutters next to me. “So tell me, were you serious when you asked me about moving somewhere else?”
I knew I shouldn’t have asked. “Oh, that. Just ignore it. I was confused, you know, emotional. Stupid monthly hormones and all.”
He mumbles, doubtful, so I try to manoeuvre the conversation somewhere else, “Is this all for our birthday?”
But all I get is a wicked smirk as Galen turns his back to the parapet, presses his hands on its flat top and, with an easy push, sits on the edge.
I outstretch an arm automatically. “Be careful—” But he leans towards me, catches my hand and hauls me up beside him, laughing at my terrified face.
“Chocolate?” He asks as if nothing’s happened, dangling a salted caramel bar in front of me while I’m still in shock, mouth agape and eyes wide.
I slap him on the knee to release the tension. “I thought we were having dinner?” I object, testing with one hand the width of the parapet because I’m too scared to look behind me.
He shakes his head, swinging his legs like a child on a chair too high for him, “I thought we could mix things up a little and start from the dessert. I know what you are trying to do, anyway… You haven’t answered my question yet,” he continues, snapping a corner of the chocolate bar with his teeth, looking distractedly at the sky.
My stomach shrinks into a ball the size of a blueberry. If I don’t fix this now, he will hold a grudge against me, even if only for a short time. And it will undoubtedly ruin the lovely memory of this evening.
Following his gaze, I turn my eyes to the sky and, wriggling cautiously, I get closer to him, bumping his shoulder. “How much do you know about the Harvesters that wish to continue their career elsewhere?” I ask casually to change the subject without being too obvious.
He blinks in surprise and lowers his eyes to me.
“As much as anybody else, really. There are only a few placements available every year, and you need to pass an impossible number of tests before going into training. It’s a too-long journey for such a boring position,” he shrugs and snaps another piece of chocolate.
“Boring?” I object, “I’d rather say thrilling.
Think about it: you get to live two identities!
” I lift two fingers before stealing the chocolate from his hand.
“Can you imagine how many people you can meet? All the places you can visit? I always wanted to visit Cleryce and its fried food festival. As a tourist, not a Harvester…”
I jump off the parapet, resting my back against it and searching for warmth in my pockets.
“If you want my honest opinion, you’re fantasising too much about things you don’t know. I’ve spent some time in Cleryce, and there is nothing memorable to it—” he cuts himself off as if he’s now the one who wants to drop the subject.
I push away from the wall and walk across the little square to check the view on the opposite side: the inner oval training yard, divided into two asymmetrical halves by a short path crowned by brownstone arches.
The wider half is used for training, whereas the other hosts a small apple and pear orchard, as well as a little pond of crystal-clear water, home to some koi carp.
And, towards the horizon, where the blue line of the sea meets the sky, only visible to the Harvester-trained eyes—the Grace Wards, Roden’s fabricated wall of unique magnetised particles that divides Libera from Horigos.
Should the Horigeans try to sail through it without a permit, like the one granted to Horigean food traders, they’d burst into smoke and ashes.
“Do you remember when we thought the island was part of Horigos, that the sky and the sea were just the shell of a giant marble, and we were all living inside it?” I ask Galen while fiddling with a string of fairy lights.
“Sof…? Why do you really want to leave Libera?” His voice carries a hint of worry. When his shoulder brushes against mine, tension travels from his body to mine.
“I guess… Maybe my mind still recalls my early years, when I didn’t even know I had a gift. Perhaps it’s different for those like me who weren’t born on the island like you.”
“I know you like to feel special,” he teases me, arching a brow and pushing me lightly. “But the island is full of people born on Horigos who then moved to Libera—thanks to Roden.” There is a pause as he studies me in silence. “Thanks to your unique ability…”
Under the intricate web of artificial lights and the night hue, Galen’s face is a puzzle of shadows and reflections, but his voice is as clear as ever, and I can’t ignore how it drops when he mentions Roden.
“Hmm,” I distractedly bite my thumbnail. “My ability is only good when the worst is about to happen. I’m more like Roden’s personal soul-sweeper.”
For some reason, I can’t shake off the feeling that, lately, Galen and I have been playing a game of tug-of-war where he pulls me right back in whenever I try to break free from an uncomfortable conversation.
But this is no children’s game because if I pull too hard, he could end up in a treacherous pool of quicksand, and I will have to jump in, if not to save him, to share at least the destiny I’ve forced upon him.
My thoughts spiral—quickly.
But when I’m about to reach the bottom of my dark well, Galen taps me on the head with that open smile that works better than ten hours of sleep, “Come on, little egg. Let’s go somewhere warmer before the party of thoughts in your brain cracks your shell open.”
I push up on my toes to cast a last glance at the hills, now wrapped in a milky mist, while an early snowflake lands on my hand. “Galen, look,” I exclaim. “I guess you were right.”
“As if I’m never not,” he giggles and offers me his jumper. “Promise me you’ll come back.” He adds with a dim light in his eyes, I can’t explain. Perhaps it’s just a reflection of the fairy lights.
“Only if you promise me you won’t fall madly in love with Lucretia.” I stick my tongue out before running away. “Whoever reaches the bottom of the stairs first decides what to eat!” I shout.