Page 10 of Soul Hate

T he doctor moves deftly, smearing soothing ointments across my palms. Our home has turned into something of a command centre. Nouis put the City Guard on high alert. I can’t even think about Halice right now. The image of my father in the fire runs around my head again and again. It devours me, stealing all thoughts, all words, all energy.

On the brief occasion I can think about anything else, it’s my sister.

My poor, dear sister.

Alive. That was the first word the doctor uttered when I came around, scrambling to her side. But his morose face and sombre tone made it clear that he wasn’t optimistic. She lies in her bed in our house, eyes closed. She’s so pale, vicious burns covering her left arm, shoulders and neck, red blistering vines wrap up over her jaw to mark her cheek. There are bruises caused by falling rubble coating every part of her body and a nasty, gaping head wound that makes me want to vomit. She’s wrapped in so many bandages there is barely a scrap of skin to plant a kiss.

She hasn’t woken up yet.

The doctor continues his ministrations, wrapping my palms in clean white linen. How they aren’t marred with grime and residue, I don’t know. I’ll never be clean. The heat’s venomous kiss will stain my skin forever.

“There,” says the doctor, finishing his work. “All finished.”

Nouis’s head jumps up in an instant. He ends his conversations with Captain Collier, the head of the City Guard, rushing over to my side.

“Will she be okay?” he asks, his face rippling with concern.

“Physically, yes, in time. Though charging into those flames was not advisable for her health.”

Fresh tears pile up along my lashes.

“She’s lucky you pulled her out in time,” the doctor continues. “You’re a hero, Signore Rizaro.”

“Hardly,” Nouis dismisses. “Is there anything we should do?”

“Rest. As much as possible.”

I can’t hold in the scoff as I fold tighter in my chair, eyes glued to the unmoving face of my sister. My singed tunic and trousers crackle as I pull my legs tight to my chest. The stench of burning still clings to my clothes.

“Perhaps a tonic … to help her sleep?” offers the doctor.

“Leaving it can’t hurt. She can make that decision tonight.” Nouis offers the doctor a thankful pat on the back.

Nouis sits on the edge of Giulia’s bed to face me properly. I swallow, daring to turn for a second to look at him. The concern rippling from his eyes floods me with gratitude. He saved Giulia. He got her out of there. My tongue falls limp in my mouth. Fate’s Fury, how on earth do I properly thank him?

“Here.” Nouis hands me a glass of water. “Drink this. You need to stay hydrated.”

My hands are so bandaged I need them both to pull the drink close to my body.

“I’ve had the men search every inch of this house. There are no explosives here or anywhere on this street,” Nouis says. “They’ve searched the High Chamber building as well and came up empty. It seems like the Grand Temple was the only target so far. Extra guards are posted at every important site in the city, and everything coming in and out of the gates is being searched thoroughly.”

“Any clues? Any claims?”

“None so far. But we’ll find the culprits. I promise.”

I swallow, my throat raw with ash and grief. “Nouis … how do I thank you?” I whisper.

Nouis frowns, shifting closer. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Yes, I do.” My voice crumbles in my throat. I can’t bear to look into those crystal green eyes for a single second more. Instead I look at my water. Nouis reaches for me, a gentle hand squeezing in support around my wrist.

“Renza, I’ve … been where you are right now,” Nouis reminds me. My stomach overturns yet again. Of course he has. Both of his parents were crushed in a building collapse when he was a child. My throat tightens; my eyes well; bile builds at the back of my tongue.

“Nouis,” I croak in horror, “I’m so sorry. Of course this must be awful for you. I’m so?—”

“Don’t you even think like that right now,” Nouis cut me off in a tone that was firm yet kind. “I didn’t bring it up to add to the misery. I only meant to say that I understand that you need me. I know what you need right now, and what’s more I know I can give it to you. I can help. I more than want to; I need to. I need to help you.”

My breath catches on the thick lump in my throat. My chest aches with a warmth that’s somehow both sweet and sour at the same time. Am I going crazy? How can one person wheel through all these feelings at the same time?

“So, you can thank me by taking a drink,” says Nouis, soft but serious. I nod, diligently lifting the glass to my lips.

“I’m here for you, Renza. However I’m needed,” Nouis promises, then gives me a gentle smile. “Although I’d appreciate it if you didn’t run into a burning building again.”

“I’ll do my best,” I whisper, trying to smile at the joke but only tears spring to my eyes. He shuffles closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I settle my head on his shoulder, breathing in his addictive scent of almonds and vanilla that chases away the lingering ashes and charred hair clogging my nose.

“Right now, you’re in shock. Soon it’ll wear off,” Nouis says calmly, rubbing soothing patterns on my back, “And when it does, I’ll be here. For your tears, for your anger, for the torrent of grief that’s coming. Let yourself feel it, Renza; I can weather the storm. I’m not going anywhere.”

I squeeze my eyes tight, digging my fingers into the smooth fabric of his tunic. I grip him in desperation and fear, like I’m about to be swept away by a violent storm and he’s my anchor keeping me in the harbour. He’s the only thing making any of this remotely bearable.

I hear a commotion behind me, raised voices as feet fly over the mosaic floor of my home.

“Maineri!” comes a sharp voice, like a bolt of acid to the brain. My gut sinks, throat tightening as I freeze in Nouis’s arms.

Nouis leaps up, face filled with fury as he throws a hand forwards. “Patricelli, now is not a?—”

I turn, watching as Idris storms into the room. Grief blazes in those golden eyes with an intensity that could destroy the world. He looks like someone slapped him when he sets eyes on my sister. Words seem to vanish from his mind.

How dare he look at her. How dare he storm in here to gawk at her pain. I grit my teeth, heat flaring up my neck and buzzing through my mind. Every single instinct in me screams to rip him apart, shred by shred, to break through these bandages and wrap my blistered, battered fingers around his throat.

I get to my feet, baring my teeth. Nouis’s arm comes down instinctively, hovering in front of my waist. A reminder not to take another step closer.

“Get out,” I hiss at Idris. “There has been enough violence in this city today. Don’t you dare invite more.”

Idris stops, fists clenched and jaw straining. His eyes run up and down, clearly taking in my charred clothes, sooty skin and freshly tended injures.

“What happened?” he demands, visibly shaking.

What would his blood feel like on my hands? How good would it feel to break every bone in his body? I turn my eyes away, gripping at my head.

“There was an explosion, but you already knew that,” snaps Nouis, putting a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“Is that the only thing you know? That an explosion happened?” Idris snarls. “You did nothing else?”

“Renza and I ran into the flames looking for survivors, and we found Giulia. Then we called the Guard, put them on alert and arranged a deep search of the city in case there were anymore explosives. What exactly have you done?” Nouis spits back.

Idris scoffs like he might punch him right then and there.

I suck in several deep breaths, the boys’ bickering brewing a fresh headache.

“Who else did you find?” Idris’s voice sounds unusually brittle. I open my eyes, sucking in a deep breath. He’s not evil. He’s not. Rationally I know that. He’s in pain. Like me. He’s just lost everything too.

“No one alive.” Nouis answers shortly. “Leave. This isn’t helpful?—”

“Wait,” I say, my voice feeling foreign as I choke out the words. “Idris … in the flames I found Jacopo. He was already dead. I’m so sorry. It looked like he was crushed by part of a falling pillar … I believe it was quick.”

Idris is silent. I can feel his eyes like a drill into the back of my skull. I want to scream. I want to shriek in rage and claw out his eyes. I take a deep breath, ordering every trembling muscle to stay where I am.

“What are you going to do?” demands Idris, voice thick.

“Do?”

“You’re the last living member of the High Chamber, for Fate’s sake!” Idris’s words are thick and teetering on the edge of rage. “ Do something. Find those responsible and make them pay.”

“What do you think is happening as we speak, Patricelli? Of course I’m going to do that.” I fight to keep my tone even but I’m starting to lose. “But first, the City Guard are searching the city for other explosive devices, making sure the people are safe. Their safety has to come first.”

“While the culprit could be getting away?”

“All the entrances in and out of the city are on lockdown, but safety is the priority. There could be other explosives, we need to make sure there aren’t. The culprit will be found—they will face justice—but justice won’t come at the expense of more lives.”

Idris mutters something I can’t make out.

My father would know what to say. My father would know what to do. The instinct to turn to him for guidance makes me want to scream. I’ll never have it again. He would be so much better for the city. He should’ve survived, not me.

Nouis fills the silence. “Patricelli, you should leave. When there is information on the death of your family, you will be informed?—”

“Screw that, Rizaro. I’m a Patricelli. My family helped lay the very foundations of this city. If you won’t do anything, I will.”

With that, he marches off, his expensive boots smacking against the tiled floors. Nouis wraps his arms around me, his front against my back. The whispers fade from my mind, the rage slowly slipping out of my blood.

“Hey. I’ve got you,” whispers Nouis softly. His embrace is strong and warm. My shoulders sag, my head rolling back to rest against him.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“I won’t let him come back. You need rest.”

“He’s right. I’m the only Electi left. I have to lead. The people need to see me, need reassurance that we’re not leaderless.”

“You’re not the only Electi,” Nouis disagrees softly, rubbing my hands. “Cardinal Bellandi is still alive; I’ve already sent word of what happened. I can’t imagine he’ll stay away in the face of a tragedy like this. He knows he’s needed.”

“You sent word already?” I frown, turning to look at him. Nouis’s brow puckers, worry brewing behind his eyes.

“Was I wrong? I thought backup would be helpful. Another Electi to help around here.”

“No, you weren’t wrong. I just… Why didn’t you mention it?”

“I was just trying to help; sometimes speed is helpful,” Nouis says. Worry tinges his soft words. “You have a lot on your plate, but eventually you would’ve written … right?”

“Of course.”

“Did you want to write the letter? You’re right, I should’ve said something.” Nouis shakes his head, scolding himself more than anything. “I was just thinking about all the things that needed to be done and didn’t want to waste time. Next time?—”

“Fate’s Fury, never let there be one.” I cut him off, reaching for his chest. “It’s okay. But in the future, I need a run-through. Patricelli might be … difficult, but he’s right. I’m an Electi and my city is in crisis. I must lead.”

“You are leading. The guard is at work already, people are being questioned. These people will be found. But you’re also grieving. There is nothing wrong with that.”

I drop my head to his chest. His arms are so warm and so strong. So safe. My aching eyes slip closed. I wrap my arms tighter around him.

“I know,” I whisper, “I know.”