Chapter 19 - Fair Exchange #2
Miss P. moves closer, and this time I let her. “Truth is, there are no bad souls. Only split ones. Tell me, July, why do we keep answering the cries of the Horigeans even if they mainly see us as ruthless traders of souls?” She gives me time to think about it.
“This sounds like our very first lesson—”
“Answer me, please.” Popplewish folds her hands in front of her.
My shoulders rise and lower with my breath. “To allow a chance at a better life to those who’re willing to sacrifice their soul—”
“That’s harsh and, what someone may say, a bit rebellious,” Nikrah comments, tapping a finger on the table without looking at me.
Popplewish’s face remains unreadable, her eyes steady on me. “That’s one version many would agree with.” Her lips twitch, and she unfolds her hands, smoothing invisible wrinkles on her gown. “It’s because they were less fortunate, and it’s our duty to share our gift with them, should they wish so.”
Not exactly Roden’s words in the screens room… I force my mind to focus.
“And because we can return a purified soul to Horigos, had its previous owner not been worthy of it,” Roden singsongs, talking about souls as if pieces of mouldable clay.
Or perhaps that soul didn’t want to be part of your deal from the beginning…
“Then why don’t we give them a better chance to deserve that soul? You never put a limit on what they ask of you. Why don’t you give them more time to repay you? Surely, you have it in abundance—” The words escape my mouth before I can stop them.
Sitting right opposite me, Amelia places her mug back on the table louder than needed, as if to mark her presence. “Remember, girl, we don’t work for them. We don’t owe them anything.”
“The point is—” Miss P. puts both hands on the table, leaning forward as if asking for silence and no more interruptions, “It’s not up to us to decide how long someone has to pay us back.” A pause. “Not anymore, anyway.”
Doubt and confusion must have made my face an easily readable page because Popplewish nods slightly to confirm her last words.
She exchanges a quick look with Roden, who simply opens his arms and admits, “Something—Someone, is intercepting whatever soul strikes a deal with me. And they are not making a distinction between Rogues and Nistarei. They are stealing my souls before their time is up, making them disappear from my radar.”
“But how do they—”
“Find the Rogues without Roden’s abilities?” Tydell, who’s been silent for a while except for random sounds of discomfort and surprise, finishes my question. His voice has lost the gentle curve he always uses with the students.
I nod.
“Someone is selling the Nistarei. Someone from—Libera?” My lips move slowly.
“And the Rogues,” Roden adds.
Am I on trial?
I push myself up, stomping my foot to appreciate the solid ground, which I fear may crumble from under me soon, “Is this why I’m here? You think I’m the person selling such information?” My hands curl into fists as I snap my head towards Popplewish.
Amelia bursts into a laugh, “Oh, girl, you’re so innocent. You’d be expired if Roden ever doubted you. Sit down, and start blinking again before your eyes fall out of your skull.”
I bite my tongue and go back to my chair. “What does this have to do with the man in the video?” I jab my finger at the point where the screen was.
Popplewish lets out a long breath, massaging her temples. “Roden, I think you can take it from here,” she says as she sits down beside me.
Roden nods. His body seems to be carved in stone; nothing moves except for his hands, the right stroking his perfectly shaped, beard and the left holding the cane, its long fingers flexing and relaxing like tendrils.
“That man is a Rogue and holds one of the toughest souls I’ve ever encountered.
Before we discovered your incredible talent, many Harvesters tried to bring his soul back to me,” - his glacial look falls somewhere between Amelia and Nikrah before returning his attention to me.
“But they’ve always miserably failed and only retrieved but mere pieces of it.
Minuscule grains of it—useless. There was always a stubborn, last kernel missing… ”
“That’s impossible; by what Popplewish said, he’s still very much alive and his mind is perfectly functioning,” I exclaim.
Roden gives me a quick bow, placing a hand above his heart, “Apologies, my dear, let me give you some context. Rogues belong to me. I let some of them roam free and untrained past the critical age of five to see if they have enough willpower to stay alive without losing their minds. Some do and that’s when your wonderful abilities become the only barriers between those savages and us Harvesters.
But a few Rogues just become so weak and tasteless that I don’t see the point of sending my most precious weapon after them. They’ll eventually—be no more.”
I clench my fists so furiously that my nails dig into my palms. “So, you lied. All these years…I wasted weeks crying over the fate of Rogues, which I thought you missed. I shared their pain…And you just, what? Played with them?”
“I do what I do best. I give souls a chance.” He. Fucking. Smiles.
“You could save them all!” Understanding burns my tongue, as my words spit out like venom.
A wicked grin blooms on his face. “One doesn’t use his best resources to cure an infected dog and I don’t work with flaws.” His eyes narrow to two cruel mirrors, reflecting the disgust spreading across my face.
My eyes widen, and something acrid and bitter sticks in my throat, stealing my breath.
“I killed every single one of them, is this what you’re saying?
And now you want me to do it again, to that boy?
! Why can you not just leave him be, like the other Rogues.
With one kernel left I’m sure he doesn't have the strength to hurt anyone.” The longer I stare at Roden, the more the other faces fade into a dark fog.
Roden moves a few steady steps towards me until he stops between Popplewish and me. He leans back against the table, crosses his ankles, and lowers the cane onto the back of his neck, letting his wrists rest on the wooden shaft.
He huffs a dark laugh, studying his nails, “Now, now, my child. No need to run to such a desperate conclusion; I’m not asking you to turn the Rogue into a pile of black powder, which is not even good enough to fertilise my flowers.”
After a quick look at the Chapter behind him, Roden adds, “See, he holds a special talent, a bit like yours, and I can’t allow him to use it without my supervision.
The ideal solution would be to eradicate his power from the roots.
But that little weed always seems to remember everything and every face he crossed path with while our Writers worked on him. ”
“Then, why don’t you just bring him to Libera like you did for the rest of us? Train him, make him…good.” The word tastes awful on my tongue.
Roden slides the cane off his shoulders and rests it on the table, “Because he refuses the offer. Every. Single. Time,” he says, tilting his head left and right and leaning towards me with every word until our faces are eye-level, rage and impatience burning behind his pale irises.
I hold my breath until Roden stands up, grabs his cane and walks away.
Everyone in the room follows his movements until he stops and sits beside Lily Drestall. She elegantly bows her head, and he softly kisses her cheek.
“Lily has tried her best for years, rewriting his memories, filling his mind with marvellous alternatives. Gifting him with some incredible, fictitious images of past lives. Anything her pretty, little head could think of, if only to distract that stubborn soul from his true nature.” He lets out a dramatic sigh before casting a hard look at Lily, who is still staring at Roden in adoration. “Nothing worked. Nothing.”
Blood rushes under Lily’s porcelain face, and she lowers her eyes.
“How many times?” I ask, already fearing the answer. If nobody but me can harvest Rogues, I’m sure that didn’t stop Roden from trying alternative methods to break that man’s will power.
Roden counts on his right hand as if mentally writing a grocery list. “I’d say enough times to give him the opportunity to come to Libera willingly.”
It’s already too late to control my tears, but I don’t care. “How could you?” I turn to face the rest of the Chapter, my lips trembling. “How could you let this happen to one of us?”
“He is nothing, by his own choice.” Roden sounds distant. Cold.
“But he’s only known the choices you gave him!” My voice comes from a dark place I didn’t know I had in me. I shout so desperately that I don’t hear the chair toppling to the floor when I stand up.
Pushing away from the table, Roden stands, seemingly strangling the neck of his cane, his knuckles turning whiter by the second, and saunters towards me.
“You know, my dear, the worst way children can hurt their father is by refusing his legacy, the power he built for their future, sweating blood and tears.”
He keeps walking, tracing a path on the shiny table with his index finger. “This Rogue is not only rejecting the legacy I created for all my children to enjoy when I’ll be gone. But he is also stealing my souls…”
He stops and crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for my reaction.
I instinctively retreat a couple of steps, shaking my head.
Popplewish lowers her head, pushing up from her chair with such heaviness that my stomach churns.
“Roden believes he’s working with a group of rebels who wish to cut ties with Harvesters and stop the Horigeans from bargaining their souls.”
“Dirty, ungrateful, ignorant scum. Egoistic, little brains full of dangerous ideals—this is what they are,” Roden scrunches up his nose as if a whiff of stench just hit his nostrils.
I don’t remember starting fidgeting, but the skin around my nails feels raw and tender.
“Have you tried talking to them? What if these people are using him and he doesn’t know how to ask for help? He’s probably just confused, scared…”
“Careful, girl. You make it looks like you care for a Rogue you don’t even know.” Nikrah says, stretching out his arms with a big yawn.
“He is not a Rogue.” I snap back.
“You’re right. He’s the reason we’re all in danger… Is that a good enough reason for you?” Lily strikes her hand on the table as if the polished surface were my face. A strand of her perfect hair falls loose, framing her tense jaw.
An invisible hand slowly tights around my throat, making it hard to breathe, to think. Roden has built an intangible cage around me, word by word, and I only saw a glimpse of it when it was already too late to run away.
“What if I can’t control myself and end up killing him?” My lips tremble, and I breathe out dark puffs of angry purple, reminding me how Harvesters will never seamlessly blend with Horigeans. Our eyes, our powers—the very air in our lungs; everything makes us noticeable, different. Dangerous.
Roden narrows his eyes at Lily, then turns to me and clicks his tongue, “Now, now. Kill? That’s too definitive, don’t you think?
I only need you to harvest his soul and leave it with the Deleteri for a special treatment I’ve been working on.
You get your life back with your adorable Galen, and I may even find a way to teach your unique talent to someone else if the burden is too heavy for you to carry…
” He huffs a laugh, “Kill? I’d rather call it—”
“A fair exchange of goods,” I echo his earlier words.