Chapter 36 - The Face in My Dream
July
Galen and Tabitha leap to their feet like the bench is on fire, and they stare at me as if I have ignited the flame.
I shift my weight onto my left foot, staring back. “Lost for words all of a sudden?”
Galen attempts a timid step in my direction, and all I want to do is to smack that guilty smile off his face.
“Oh, no. You stay where you are. And you…” I concentrate on Tabitha, pointing a shaking finger at her face. My whole body is trembling. “I bet even those trees know more about me than—fucking me!”
“July, why don’t we all sit and discuss this—civilly?”
I sense the fury in my eyes when the colour abandons Tabitha’s face.
I lower my finger and force myself to ignore Galen standing in my peripheral vision. It seems he’s decided another step would be too much, and he halts as soon as I curl my fingers into fists at my side.
Tabitha clears her throat, holding her hands up. “Tell you what, if you don’t like it, you can punch him.”
“What?” Galen exclaims.
I admire her quick thinking and how she’s just come up with a way to channel my distress and divert it away from Galen. I pretend I don’t notice, but it works because all I can think of right now is that one name, a blurred face and a gentle voice offering me a drink to soothe my pain.
Tabitha’s eyes quickly dart from me to Galen to ensure he gets the warning and doesn’t move a muscle.
I step away from the kitchen door, marching straight for Tabitha and ignoring Galen, who throws his hands in the air, points at Tabitha, then at himself in a silent monologue.
“Where. Is. He?” I control every word. They don’t need to know about the thunderstorm happening inside me.
Tabitha steps to one side, gesturing to the bench behind her as if offering a safe space to sit and talk.
Except for the limited view offered by the window in my room, this is the first time I can admire the odd beauty of HQ.
Everything behind its walls seems luxuriant and alive compared to its wrecked, dangerous facade.
Its grass is green, as if the Great Famine never touched this place, its trees heavy with fruit I only tasted in Libera, and the air is so pure that only a shy purple tinges my breath.
I blink away the distracting wonders of this place.
“The building, its garden—everything you see is special and unique. And we try to protect it the best way possible.” Tabitha breaks the silence.
“By killing whoever comes too close, even if by accident?” I can’t control the bitterness in my voice.
Sitting on the bench, Tabitha gives me a motherly smile and pats the empty spot beside her. “Wouldn’t you like to know more before going after him?”
I consider my options, then trudge to the bench, dropping beside her with a loud sigh. “I wouldn’t mind knowing what the hell this connection is. Especially because I’m supposed to have it with someone I’ve never met before.”
“Ah, she heard that too,” Galen mumbles, and I fire him a look that lands like an invisible slap.
I study him for a second, then click my tongue and slide my attention back to Tabitha, ignoring him completely.
“I’m not sure Galen is still worthy of my trust. But you seem nicer—and I’m not stupid.
Clearly, there is something else going on.
Going after this soul feels like the tip of a far more dangerous iceberg. ”
“Hmm,” Tabitha nods. “I didn’t want to believe what Galen told me about your deal with Roden.” She exchanges a quick look with him that I can only interpret as an invitation to let her speak without interruptions.
But Galen rushes towards us. “He tricked her,” he says, “Roden tricked you.”
“That, I’ve assumed on my own; thanks for stating the obvious,” I snap without looking at him.
“What Galen is trying to say,” Tabitha chimes in, cutting him a glacial side-eye, “Is that Roden put you in a truly challenging situation that’s left you with no other choices but to accept. So, don’t feel guilty for what you’ve agreed to do to Kris.”
His name being spoken so openly caresses me like a gentle breeze, making the hair on my arms stand as if I’ve been too long under the scorching sun.
Galen coughs, and Tabitha makes an annoyed sound, throwing her hands in the air.
“I was getting there—”
“I call it procrastinating,” he retorts.
Tabitha slaps her hands on her thighs with a grunt. “Well, I call it follow my ways or get out.”
“I’m already outside.” Galen rocks back and forth on his heels with his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, for the love of souls, Galen! I forgot how similar you two can be.” Tabitha pinches the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.
“You’ve only known me for two seconds—and we’re nothing alike,” I exclaim.
“Wasn’t talking about you, dear.”
Before I can add anything else, Tabitha places her hand over mine. “What Galen was trying to say is that Roden never intended to hold up his end of the deal because this has never worked before, and he believes you will fail. Again.”
“He did everything to convince you this choice was yours only.” Galen’s voice sounds distant.
A soft breeze sweeps over us from a place I cannot locate. It rustles the trees nearby, carrying the scent of seawater and tender grass. I should enjoy it and feel at peace, but my body is frozen, and all I can hear is the echo of Tabitha’s last word.
Again.
My chest rises and falls, air fills my lungs, my blood pumps—but I can’t move.
Everything around me is alive. Galen’s hair has dried a little, fluttering in the gentle wind; Tabitha’s lips stretch in a tentative, reassuring smile.
Life continues before my eyes—but I forgot how to use my freaking mouth.
A warm hand presses over mine, and Galen appears in my field of vision. “Remember when I asked you to keep an open mind?”
I nod, and a stinging feeling rushes down my spine, like when I was a child and used to clench my teeth to stop myself from crying.
“Can I?” Galen motions to the space next to me.
Another wordless nod while my vision blurs because I’ve been holding my breath for too long.
Again.
I exhale, and time restarts its natural cycle. Spinning. Rushing, as if Nature itself knows there isn’t much left.
“How much do you remember of your childhood?” Tabitha’s voice is like the first gentle wave after a storm at sea.
My mind runs back to the only picture I have of my parents, locked in a drawer I rarely open, hidden in a box so I don’t have to look at it unintentionally.
I shrug, lowering my eyes to the space between me and Tabitha as if my memories may be carved on the white marble bench.
“I was born with the gift, but it started manifesting when I was about two. I couldn’t stay out for too long, or my nose would start bleeding, my lungs shrinking.
And I would start screaming in pain when someone close to death walked past me. It felt like I was dying with them.”
Galen shifts closer to me, close enough to brush my shoulder with his.
“That is the pain all Rogues experience when they grow up not properly trained,” he mutters.
“And why they could become a danger to others. And themselves,” Tabitha adds.
But above all the words she’s speaking to me, one screams louder in the back of my mind—again.
I shrink, removing my hand from under hers and folding my fingers on my lap.
“What else?” Galen asks, but there is no urgency in his tone.
“I began to isolate myself, and my parents never objected because not having me around people was a relief. Until—Roden sensed me and sent Popplewish to take me away from Horigos to start my new life in Libera.”
I study Tabitha’s face for reassurance that my answer is exhaustive enough, and that I don’t need to dig deeper, but she struggles to hold my gaze until she averts her eyes completely, searching for Galen’s instead.
Realisation whacks me.
I whip my head towards him. “What does it mean? Again…”
His eyes dart across my face, then to a point behind me. To Tabitha. And back to me.
“I need you to think deeper, Sof. Do you remember ever seeing pictures of you as a baby? Do you remember at least one of your childhood friends?” he asks, pivoting a little on the spot to face me better.
He’s so close I can smell lemon and soap permeating his freshly cleaned shirt. I close my eyes, trying to dig deeper—to find that door I locked and forgot about—to barge inside my past.
But there is only a quiet, motionless ocean of emptiness, and the more I try to remember, the more my stomach twists into a knot.
“A birthday?” Tabitha presses on.
I bite my lips, and my eyes fling open, resting on Galen’s familiar gaze. His bruises and cuts have been cleaned and stitched, and his skin has regained some of its natural, healthy tone.
“Do you remember your room? The colour of the walls…”
I know he’s trying to help, but any attempt to recall a past that I’m not even sure belongs to me feels like heavy rain hammering my head.
“No…”
“Your favourite toy?”
“No, I don’t…” I dig my nails into my palms to silence the soaring nausea.
I don’t even know who’s asking what anymore.
Galen gently cups my cheek, and I lean into his reassuring scent.
“Roden took all my memories,” I say in one breath.
Galen nods, letting go of my face and leaving a sudden cold patch on my skin, where his hands were until a second ago.
For a moment, I forgot Tabitha was still sitting next to me.
Again. I slowly turn to face her, this stranger who seems to know me more than I do.
“How many times has Roden asked me to bring him back, to make him suffer—Kris? How did I fail?” A sudden rush of sadness and longing burns inside me when his name touches my lips.
She doesn’t answer, but waits as if knowing I’m not done with my question.
How many times? I’m about to turn twenty-two. It’s not like I’ve completed so many missions that I forgot one or two.
My eyes widen, and Tabitha lowers her head.
My chest aches.
“How old am I?”