Chapter 39 - Chasing Monsters
July
Why are my stupid legs shaking? And why have all my thoughts gone quiet, but my mind keeps playing his voice in a loop?
The distance between me and the building stretches like an elastic band without a breaking point until the kitchen’s back door appears from nowhere in front of me.
I cling onto its pommel, fearing I won’t be able to stand upright on my own for much longer. I breathe in, shake my head to clear it and step inside.
Kris’ smiling face lingers behind my eyes.
The same sweet expression that I’ve crushed so many times in my nightmares.
During those nights full of images of me causing pain to someone I’d never met, and yet—someone whose pain would become mine the moment I opened my eyes, accompanying me the whole day, no matter Galen’s attempts to cheer me up and distract me from what that really was…
Just a dream.
And now those pale green eyes, with a hint of pulsating sun in their centre, have a voice. They are so different from Galen’s, yet they share the same spark for life. A spark I could easily snuff out.
My hands rush to my hammering heart to make sure it will not jump out of my chest.
“Are you running from a monster or chasing one?” Mack welcomes me, standing by the wall next to the door.
“What if I am the monster?” I reply without thinking, distracted by the kitchen space.
On the opposite side of the large dining table, Merya is busy entertaining a young girl who strikes me as a miniature copy of Tabitha, if not for her jet-black hair and petite build.
They’re both busy conversing while a bird squawks, flaps and scampers on the table as if trying to get their attention.
I make eye contact with mini-Tab, and a wide, partially toothless smile lights up her face.
“You’re the pretty lady,” she squeals, pointing at me.
Merya finally lifts her head, losing interest in what seems like a first aid box. Bandages, some still new, some stained with blood, plasters, and a pair of scissors are scattered on the table before her.
“Happy to see you up and running,” she says before turning to the little girl. “Sable, what have we learned about good manners?”
Staring at me with large, dark purple eyes, Sable pouts. “That we don’t point at people, we don’t point at things, we don’t point at anything.” She lowers her small hands onto the table, interlaces her fingers and bows her head as if ashamed of her burst of excitement.
The bird stops its attention-seeking dance and hops to her, snuggling its white, feathered head in the space between her fingers.
My heart shrinks as I approach the table, smiling. “It’s okay; I used to point at everything when I was about your age. Even the clouds in the sky and my reflection in the mirror. Sable, is it?” I ask, keeping an eye on the odd bird.
As if sensing me, the animal rotates its head and glares at me, making me wonder if our Donatori accidentally gifted it a soul.
Sable nods, and I relax, seeing the smile back on her heart-shaped face.
“She’s the most fearless member of our group.” Mack lands a hand on my shoulder with the confidence of someone who’s known me for ages. But then he immediately drops it, realising we probably shared the same thought.
“You’ve all become very good at this.” I drop the bomb to taste their reactions.
“I’m not following,” Mack replies, stepping away from me and sitting on the edge of the table with his ankles resting one on top of the other and arms crossed. A shaft of light pouring in from the door’s glass panel ignites the copper in his hair, giving him a boyish look.
“You’ve never been known for being the smartest between us,” Merya comments, not looking directly at us and pretending the chipped surface of the table is more interesting.
I saunter along the table, running a finger over its rough surface. “I mean—pretending you’ve never met me before.” I slowly walk up to the kitchen sink to wash the heat off my face as well as the uncomfortable stickiness of all the information Kris and Galen have just thrown at me.
Behind me, the silence is dense with whispers and the noise of a chair being pulled from under the table.
When I turn, water dripping over my top and with some fine strands of hair stuck onto my face, I find Mack and Merya sitting next to each other, both agape, looking at me as if I’ve just caught them stealing from a biscuit tin.
“You can stop acting now. The charming brothers out there told me everything. Well, most of it.” I lean back against the grey stone kitchen top, studying my fingernails one by one.
Mack raises a finger, opens his mouth, sucks in some air and puffs up his cheeks, only to eventually push the air out with a loud sigh. His hand drops on the table as if too heavy to control.
Merya cuts him a glare and shakes her head. “My brother is trying to say that we’re sorry we lied to you, but that’s how it’s always been since this all started. The way it was before we even joined Tabitha and her fight.”
“I understand you were just following orders—” I start.
“Nobody is forcing me to make sure you don’t kill Kristyon,” Mack blurts out.
“Mack, shut up.” Merya jabs him in the ribs and rolls her eyes towards Sable, who doesn’t seem interested in our conversation. She’s quietly talking to the kestrel as if they’re sharing secrets. But, having been her age, I’m sure she has eyes and ears everywhere.
“If you’d let me finish...” Mack squints at his sister before moving his attention back to me.
“That’s true. Merya and I met you before, but only a few times when we’re not stationed in The Mother, and it’s hard to avoid slips and mistakes when we interact with you.
As per Kris, I would stand by him against my sister if I had to.
” He shrugs as if talking about the weather.
“You know, should she go berserk and move to the wrong side,” he then adds with an innocent smile.
My heart shrinks when Merya keeps her eyes on me, but stretches a hand to brush Mack’s briefly.
“Horigeans are dying,” - Mack continues - “and their souls are stolen every day, even if they never made a deal with Roden Breith. And all because that fuck—” he quickly looks at Sable, “That soul-sucking parasite wants to create a new generation of perfected Harvesters.”
His voice dims while my eyebrows arch higher and higher, “…and you didn’t know about that. Great!” He makes to stand up, but the back door bursts open, flapping angrily on its hinges and hitting the wall a couple of times.
The weird bird tries to fly away while Sable stretches her little body over the table to catch him. “You’ll hurt yourself again, Zephyr. Stop,” she cries out while Mack pushes away from the table, sending the chair toppling to the floor.
I understand the presence of the aid box when I notice one of the animal’s wings hanging down, seemingly broken.
Merya is the only person in the room not bothered by the sudden turmoil. Her eyes roam from one side of the room to the other, then she drops her chin on her interlaced fingers.
Galen also doesn’t seem to care about the havoc he’s just caused by barging in like a tornado. “As far as I’m curious to know why Mack looks so guilty, there is something we need to talk about. Where are Tabs and Jyn?”
“Sable, why don’t you go find your mama? You can take Zephyr and show her what a good doctor you’ve been.” Merya pats Sable’s head gently without breaking eye contact with Galen and the rest of us.
“And I can feed him more worms,” Sable squeaks with excitement, bouncing off the chair like a spring.
“All the worms.” Merya nods with a smile.
“They’re very squishy, you know; he loves them. But mama says I can’t eat them even if they taste better than her soups!” Sable exclaims, jumping up and down, while Zephyr fights to remain perched on her left arm.
We all wait in silence for Sable to hop out of the kitchen, singing a song about a fat bird and a fat worm becoming friends and going fishing together.
“Where is Kris?” I ask when I’m sure Sable is gone and not eavesdropping.
Galen pants, leaning against the doorframe, his hair tousled and his cheeks flushed, when he eventually looks at me.
“Mending his broken ego somewhere.” He dismisses our still unvoiced questions. “This is about the video.”
I give him a questioning look. “Has this anything to do with Roden’s using Horigos like his personal souls marketplace instead of waiting for desperate people to ask for his help?”
“Do I want to know who told her?” He scans the room for the culprit.
In the corner of my eyes, Mack shrinks a little. “What is she talking about?” he asks, trying his luck.
“Read the room, Mack,” Merya mutters, gathering plasters and bandages still scattered over the table.
“Everybody shut up,” Galen bellows, turning to the siblings.
“Kris just told me what happened in Brenath. Whatever you think happened there, think again—it’s twice as dangerous.
Evelyn had a theory that Roden was collaborating with conservative Herionos to relocate nearly empty, dilapidated vessels from The Fields to a secret location.
He needs fresh bodies to create stable Reds, but couldn’t make too many disappear without raising suspicions among the Writers. ”
“Where do you think he hides them?” Merya urges him.
Galen shrugs. “Corlea seems a good starting point if the Herionos Lily and Nik captured told you the truth. What I’m sure of is that Roden knows what a destructive weapon those unstable souls are and will use them against us. He just needs to find us…”
“Wait a second.” Merya stands up, head shaking. “What stops him from using the Herionos who are helping him? Surely they’re expendable, in-good-health-pawns. And they’re not stupid…”
Galen approaches the table slowly, finally unfreezing the atmosphere around us. “If Roden promised them freedom in his new kingdom—the chance is too high to ignore…And he still needs their trust and for them to do his dirty work on Horigos while he holds Libera together.”