Page 20 of Soul Hate

I dris and I take separate routes to the Garden. We don’t want to be seen together more than is necessary in case we rouse suspicion with Bellandi that we’re getting on.

Being free of him, even for one short walk is… immaculate. Euphoric. I can breathe again without the fire, move without acid eating away at my fingertips. There is no monster at the edge of my vision, no fire thrumming through my blood.

Yet, even with him gone, Idris lurks like a spectre in my mind. His voice replays again and again. The scalding hazel of his gaze. That irritating, unforgiving, devastating smell of lavender and mint.

But I managed it. I survived. Idris survived. And neither of us has so much as taken a swing for the other… by some miracle. Who knows how this decision will age. The few, rare stories I’ve heard of Soulhates refusing to duel, such as terrible pairings between family members, always result in at least one party moving far, far away to try and avoid the eye of Fate. I’ve never heard of anyone refusing to duel their Soulhate and then sticking around to see the end result.

As I walk down the wonky path to Michelle’s house however, my hairs begin to stand on end. My blood runs hot, my skin is riddled with goosebumps. The feeling is back.

“Fancy seeing you here,” I say sarcastically as Idris steps out from one side of a sweet blossom tree. He hovers on the edge of my vision like a black, blistering aura threatening to swallow me whole. He’s not alone; Alfieri is there too, grinning as he watches events unfold.

“Missed me already?” Alfieri asks brightly. “It’s only been a day.”

“Did you do anything useful today?” I retort sceptically.

“Define useful ,” he says vaguely. “Idris says you might’ve found something but you need the papers at your friend’s house to confirm it?”

“Indeed,” Idris says, “but when we got here I realised I don’t know which house is Michelle’s.”

“Follow me, and watch yourself in Michelle’s home.” I sigh, heading down the track with as much speed I can muster. The sooner we do this the sooner he can go, and I’ll be free to breathe in peace again.

“With a warning like that, what must you think of me?” Idris muses darkly.

“Nothing, Patricelli,” I bite out with fake sweetness, “I don’t think of you at all.” It’s a lie, he occupied my mind far, far more than I’d like. But he doesn’t get to know that.

Idris doesn’t answer, but Alfieri lets out a low whistle, a smirk pulling at his lips.

The trees rustle in quiet trepidation. Their leaves carry whispered gossip from branch to branch. I refuse to let my gaze wander, to risk glancing at Idris. I stick firmly to the path. Soon we come to a mark on the ground, a dead patch of grass where Serra’s machine stood only a few days ago. My throat goes dry and coarse.

Right now she’s in a prison. A dark, dank prison filled with all kinds of thieves and murderers, wondering when I’ll rescue her. The guilt rises in my throat and spills bitterness on my tongue. We move as a group in silence down the winding path till we reach a familiar little house. I don’t hesitate, pushing through the front door.

“Only me,” I call, entering the room. Michelle and Emilia bolt up from her kitchen table, both plastered with guilty expressions. Rather than the casual, warm welcome I’m used to, the air is oddly stiff.

“Renza, hey!” Michelle’s beaming smile is so fake I cringe. Eyeing Idris nervously, Emilia hurriedly wraps up the paper on the table. Idris doesn’t waste time with greetings and marches over, snagging the paper out of her hands.

“It’s rude to snatch,” Emilia tries to scold. Alfieri chuckles, peering over Idris’s shoulder as they both inspect the unrolled document. Alfieri’s face stretches into a naughty grin as he turns to Emilia.

“Now how did you get your hands on these?” Alfieri barks with delighted surprise.

“What are they?” I dare ask as Michelle stands sheepishly to one side, arms folded with one hand covering her mouth.

“Schematics.” Some storms are calmer than Idris’s voice. “For the prison.”

I close my eyes, fighting the smile that comes to my lips. Damn, the girls move fast. I turn to look at Michelle who just points at Emilia.

“It was all her. Or mostly her, I was told to bring paper and charcoal and then she did this.”

“What did you do?” Alfieri’s dark eyes sparkle like this is the best day of his life. He sits next to Emilia at the table who sits up straighter, raising her chin defiantly at Idris.

“A friend of a friend knows that the prison is in desperate need of repairs. Obviously it’s on an island, and the tides and waves and a few storms have … left their mark, shall we say. Captain Collier really wants the whole thing repaired and updated; he’s campaigned for it a few times. So I went over there and told him that Idris has asked me to come up with a proposal. He showed me the weak spots that worry him. Then I said I couldn’t come up with something properly without seeing the original plans. It took some persuasion but he showed me his copy of the schematics briefly. I memorised it … and copied what I could when I walked out.”

I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles from my teeth. Emilia is amazing. Utterly and unashamedly amazing.

“Is this … right?” Idris asks Alfieri, grinding out the words like they’re poison. Alfieri looks over the documents and nods.

“Yeah, from what I can tell. Damn, you got this from a brief look?” Alfieri doesn’t bother to hide his awe. Emilia blushes and sweeps her hair behind both ears at the same time.

“Wow, beauty, brains, and bravery to boot. Is there something you can’t do?” Alfieri only half teases, nudging Emilia with his elbow.

“What were you thinking?” Idris snarls in rage. “We agreed you weren’t doing this.”

“No, you barked out orders and expected us to listen, like you were somehow in charge of us. But in case you’ve forgotten, Halice is a democracy,” Michelle answers harshly without flinching. “And we aren’t letting Serra fester in prison just because you’re a coward.”

Oh, low blow .

“Coward? Me?” hisses Idris.

“Okay, okay. I think we need to wind our necks in,” Alfieri says firmly. “Idris, calm down. Michelle, back off. No one is a coward. Idris is trying to protect us.”

“It’s not his job to protect us,” Emilia answers softly.

“Who else is going to do it? How many battles have any of you faced?”

“Battles?” I snap, suddenly finding words leaping to my mouth. “You’ve been in battles?”

Idris takes a deep breath, stalking away from the table and towards the back window. He doesn’t say anything, clearly done with this conversation. I look at Alfieri who pointedly shakes his head slowly.

Alright. I won’t push it. Instead I turn to Michelle.

“So, you have the schematics… Do you have a plan?”

“We were just getting to it. Come see,” Emilia perks up, grabbing the papers back from Alfieri and rolling them out. The four of us lean over the table as Emilia talks us around the prison. Alfieri adds some colour to Emilia’s descriptions, but doesn’t offer up how he knows any of it.

“Okay, so Serra is probably there,” Emilia says after a while, pointing to a section of cells. “Given she’s wanted for treason, she’ll be separated from the others for her own protection and extra security.” I nod, scanning over the plans.

“This is the best spot. If we can get her here she can walk to the beach and we can wait with a boat,” Alfieri says pointing.

“Don’t help them!” hisses Idris. “I won’t have you get swept up in this idiocy too.”

“It’s too far,” I say, ignoring Idris’s outburst and shaking my head. “Too far from Serra’s prison cell. She’d have to break out of her cell, walk miles and a set of stairs and then break out of the building, to then walk to the beach? What if she’s injured? Besides, how is she supposed to get all the way over there without getting caught?”

“What’s your plan?” Alfieri asks.

I press my lips together. I press my finger to the nearest weak spot that Emilia mentioned earlier. The prison backed right up onto the ocean, the land slowly crumbling like a cliff under the stonework. “If we can get her there, and have a boat waiting underneath, she can jump into the water. We can fish her out and get her home.”

“But how? The wall is at risk of subsidence, yes, but it’s still a solid wall,” frowns Emilia, folding her arms and straightening up.

“So let’s trigger the subsidence,” I grin.

“How? You can’t just snap your fingers and make a wall fall down.” Alfieri frowns.

“It’s almost like we need someone who can understand explosives?” I chuckle.

Emilia’s eyes go wide. “I can’t do those calculations. I can’t make an explosive.”

“No, but Serra can. All we need to do is tell her where to put it.”

“This is madness. She was arrested for having explosives. Now you want her to escape using explosives?” snaps Idris from the corner, his sudden unwelcome input flaring the flames that had gone quiet.

“Subsidence,” I snap back. “Weren’t you listening? Best to get your story straight now.”

“How many other prisoners do we risk letting out—and that’s if you can get Serra out of her prison cell in the first place,” Idris hisses.

“Serra can pick a lock,” I snort confidently.

“Oh yeah, Serra is the lock whisperer,” Michelle nods, snapping her fingers. “Very useful when I lose my keys.” Emilia nods with a small smile, having witnessed it too.

“As for other prisoners that might escape? None. That part of the prison is empty because of how fragile it is. If we can get Serra out of her own cage and to this wall … she can do the rest,” Emilia says quietly, eyes glued to the paper in front of her.

“Emilia, work out our weak point and where best to place the explosives. You’ll also need to gather the things we need to get to Serra.”

Emilia nods.

“Michelle, can you make everything look … harmless? We’ll need to make sure they pass inspection.”

Michelle nods, mind’s eye already on the problem. “I can make some things.”

“Excellent, and you can sail right?” I push. She nods again. “Great, then you’ll man the getaway boat while I get Serra everything she needs.”

“You what?” Idris snaps. “You are staying far, far away from this.”

“Serra is suspected of treason. Only an Electi could get in to see her now, and it won’t be weird that I’m there. Captain Collier knows I am trying to help Serra. If we do it right, it won’t look like I’ve had a chance to leave anything with her. I won’t be a suspect.”

“No. It’s too risky. Halice needs you. You are the only other Electi that can go against Bellandi, given I doubt he’ll acknowledge my fake proxy status without you there to hold him accountable. You can’t get caught up in this or Bellandi will brand you as a traitor. You’ll swing right next to Serra and hand Bellandi the city on a silver platter.”

“Then I won’t get caught.”

“It’s not as simple as that.” Idris stalks towards me. I spin, forcing myself to glare into those burning, golden eyes. I refuse to blink, twisting my face into a mask of pure determination, and fold my arms.

“I’m not leaving Serra to rot. I’m not letting my friends risk their lives when I can make things easier and safer,” I answer with finality. “This is happening. So either get on board or get out of the way.”

The silent challenge hovers on my tone. Idris’s face contorts, his face dropping inches from mine. My pulse sprints; my throat goes thick.

“This is madness. Absolute madness.” Idris scowls. He yanks himself backwards roughly, as though it took all his strength to tear himself away. He storms towards the door of Michelle’s house and stalks into the dark. Alfieri sighs, staring at the creaking door as it swings on its hinges.

“Don’t worry about him. He just needs to cool off a bit. Well, it sounds like you ladies have a plan. But, this isn’t what we came for … is it?” Alfieri turns to look at me, round face pulled with a question.

No. He’s right. The girls have very successfully buried the lead.

“Did Giulia leave any papers around, Michelle?” I ask.

Michelle nods, walking towards the cabinet by the table and opening a drawer. She pulls out a few thick files, handing them over. “Enjoy.”

I slowly sink into my chair, sorting through the pile of information in front of me.

“I’ll make us all some tea,” offers Alfieri, hopping up and leaving me to it. I flick through Giulia’s files. Letters from our various cousins are thrown to one side as I pull a few of her sheets together. There are letters from Captain Collier, merchants and schools to name a few, asking for their money and wondering why payment was late.

Then on a small piece of paper, a single number is circled.

Twenty thousand Hali-Pounds. Exactly the same amount that had been missing before the explosion. Before Giulia … became unavailable.

“Looks like we’re both right, Giulia,” I mutter. My sister knew. She had been on to this for weeks now. She just didn’t know what she was on to.

I lean back in my seat, eyes lost to the familiar room as I turn over everything in my mind again. One of those entries is for today right? Marked as an immediate move? So the money will be moving tonight. Perhaps I can follow it. Perhaps I can work out where all of this is going.

“I’m going back to the bank,” I announce, jumping up from my chair.

“What, now? It’s very late?” frowns Michelle pointing to the encroaching darkness outside her window.

“This can’t wait. They’re moving the money tonight. If we’re right we’ll be able to find out who is complicit in all this—finally we’ll have some witnesses, some evidence,” I promise, leaping forwards to give her a quick hug. I give Emilia a quick squeeze too, as she sits with Alfieri.

“Wait for Idris to get back,” Emilia argues softly. “Or go find Nouis. Don’t go alone.”

“Who knows where Idris has stormed off to, and there’s no time to find him or Nouis. I’ll be fine.”

“You can’t go alone,” Alfieri insists, setting the kettle down.

“My bank, my money,” I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Try and stop me.”

“I wasn’t going to stop you; I’m coming with you. Idris would gut me if I let you wander off by yourself given we know someone out there wants you dead,” Alfieri answers, setting the tea aside. “I’m fairly useful you know, particularly in a sticky situation.”

“Fine. But don’t slow me down.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”