Pieces of Her Soul

by Serena Lindahl

  Father must have passed back out because he wasn't in the main room. Mum sat in her armchair, sipping a cup of tea. She looked weary. I couldn't help but cross to the window, although I attempted to make the motion casual. Seb and Reed still perched on the edge of the fountain. Seb's hair blazed in the sunlight. Reed's attention was split between the book in his lap and his brother. Seb talked, gesturing wildly, though I couldn't tell if Reed was listening. They didn't look out of place but my eyes were drawn to them without fail. Others milled about the square, but I barely noticed them. Without going down to fourth tier, the University square was the closest green space to the palace, but I wanted to believe they chose this square because it was closer to me.

  My curiosity turned to horror as Ian and Mason casually strolled towards them. The loitering brothers stood and met my recent visitors head on. They didn't seem to be saying anything, merely staring at each other.

  "What is going on?" Mum's voice behind me made me jump. She had stood and was watching the scene curiously.

  "What do you mean?" I squeaked.

  "Kiarra May, don't play dumb with me. The Scholar and the Planner haven't stopped staring up here since they visited the other day. The son of the High Commander seems to remember you fondly. On top of that, Ian Blackburn, of the infamous Blackburn assassins, also appears to have taken an interest in you. He's been following you around?" I glanced at her, biting my lip. She shrugged. "The walls are thin. One can hear everything on either side, much to our misfortune."

  I turned my attention back to the drama unfolding below. Reed and Seb were nearly a head shorter than Mason and Ian but they didn't back down. Mason and Ian didn't appear to be threatening them though. They seemed to be feeling each other out which surprised me. I wish I were a bird to hear their words. I would have given anything at that moment for the opportunity.

  "I can't get any of them out of my heads. All five of them have been persistently spinning about my thoughts, making me feel like I'm on a merry go round. I can't seem to forget any of them, and they make me feel..." I shifted uncomfortably. I trusted my mother implicitly, but I feared her judgment. She hadn't raised me to be a wanton woman, lusting after several men.

  "Five?" Mum asked. I cursed my absent tongue. I would have told her about Clay eventually but now didn't seem the best time. She placed a gentle hand on my arm. "Stop staring at them and come sit down. Talk to me. I need to know what's going on."

  It took monumental effort to walk away from the window. Every bone in my body wanted to see what would happen next, but I followed my mother's direction and settled onto the couch next to her. The couch pulled us together. We had sat this way numerous times. It was how we'd comforted each other when my sister started being a brat, when I started my monthly courses, when I began failing my tests, and when Rowan left both times. Mum was always there for me.

  I took a deep breath. "Clay is the Merchant who tutored us last week at school. That's why Delia was so stuffy that day Reed and Sebastian stopped by. She had taken a fancy to him, but he ignored her to speak with me. I walked him back to Merchant House before coming home and then left for groceries."

  Mum adopted what I referred to as her 'thinking look.' The look was always present when she was reasoning a complicated equation or theory, but usually not when she was listening to the lamentations of her dramatic teenage girls. "So you have a man from each of the five Houses interested in you?"

  I squirmed again. "I don't know if they're interested in me," I hedged. "I just can't stop thinking about them and they appear at strange times."

  "The ones I've seen are interested in you, honey," Mum said with the conviction that any man would be daft not to be interested in me. I let the comment pass as her opinion wasn't exactly valid. "What about this Merchant? Why haven't I seen him about? Or have I?"

  I shook my head. "You would have noticed. He walks on two sticks fashioned into crutches. His feet were twisted badly during a dock accident when he was eight. His injury doesn't slow him down and he's more graceful than I am, but it does make him memorable."

  "Hmmm," Mum mused. I waited a moment. I waited for her to tell me I was crazy or that I needed to pick one, something similar to the things I had been telling myself the past few days. "Remember what your brother said?" Her voice lowered to a whisper.

  I nodded. The phrase had been rattling around my brain since Rowan had whispered to me. My eyes widened when I made the connection. "You think these men might be the five?" I squeaked again, my voice shrill. She cast a quick glance towards the hall, but both my sister's and my father's doors were tightly closed. Still, I lowered my voice. "What does it mean?"

  "I haven't a clue. How do you feel when you think of these men?"

  "What do you mean?" I dodged, my cheeks heating again.

  "Do you consider them friends? Does your relationship with them feel brotherly or...?" She trailed off, her eyes examining my face.

  "Definitely not brotherly," I confirmed. "I am drawn to them, all of them, physically and emotionally."

  "Hmmm," Mum said again. I couldn't believe she was reacting to my love life the same way she reacted to a text she strived to decipher. "It's said that when one meets their Soul Match they can't stop thinking of them, that they feel drawn to them."

  I laughed, the sound filled with bitterness. "Please, Mum, not this again. Not only do I not have five matches, but I don't believe in Soul Matches. Look at you and that...that man in the back room."

  Mum shifted and rested a pale hand on my arm. I hadn't noticed how wrinkled her hands had become. Her hands showed her age more clearly than her face. "I've never told you this before, but..." My breath caught in my throat as her face adopted a more serious expression. "I don't think your Father and I are legitimate Soul Matches. I told myself we were in the beginning, but then..."

  "You said the message came from the King himself."

  "It did."

  "I don't understand. Did the King lie? Were the Soul Tenders wrong?"

  Mum shrugged. "I have been as confused as you, Kee. The King would have no reason for such deception. I just don't believe that your father and I are truly matched."

  "But what makes you think that? I could have sworn you believed that when I was young, even until recently." I wanted to know what she was hiding.

  "I thought it true until..." she hesitated, her gaze sliding away from mine. Her expression was one of shame, almost. I had never seen a similar look on my confident mother's face. She took a deep breath and met my eyes again. Resolve glittered in her dark blue depths. "I saw a man a couple years ago that made me feel like I never had before. It was like a magnet drew us together; I couldn't resist watching him. I have only seen him once or twice since then, but every time the feeling is the same. I have tried to scrub him from my brain but I haven't been able to. I wasn't going to tell you unless it became necessary. I do believe in Soul Matches, just not that your father and I are one. I didn't want our relationship to make you doubt the validity of Soul Matches."

  "Mum," I murmured compassionately, my heart breaking for her. Her situation was far worse than mine. She had given years of her life to a man who hated her, who treated her poorly, and who made her daily life hell. After years of that, she met a man she might love but couldn't. "Who is he?"

  "His identity is irrelevant."

  "Is he matched to another?" I asked instead, hearing the finality in her voice. Mum could be more stubborn than me sometimes. If she didn't want to tell me something, nothing would dissuade her.

  "No, he never married."

  I sat in silence as I considered her words. I had told myself numerous times that I couldn't hate the King for pairing my mother and father as he was just the messenger, but this changed things. Mum squeezed my arm. I had told her repeatedly of my thoughts on the matter.

  "I don't regret marrying your father. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have birthed Rowan, you, and Delia. I don't regret it." She repeated.

  "If it weren't for us, you wo
uldn't have stayed though," I argued, my jaw set as my father stumbled around the back room again. The King might want to thank us for offering up my brother as a sacrificial lamb, but I had a few questions of my own to ask him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Seb

  Seb stared at the section of wall on the fourth floor where he guessed Kiarra's living room window was situated. He had caught a glimpse of the fountain when they had passed within the main room the other day. Many units had windows that overlooked the drab alleyway between the tiers, but the Walton family had snagged a corner location either by design or luck.

  He desperately wanted to speak with Kiarra again. The sparks that erupted when their skin touched were real and he was certain they meant something. He thought Kiarra had experienced the same sensations. But his brother had touched her as well, and he'd been acting strange ever since. He'd intended to ask Reed about his feelings for Kiarra. Maybe he felt well-placed righteous anger over her father's actions or perhaps he had a scholarly crush on the mother which had transferred to the daughter. He had been very aware of his brother's interest when Kiarra started speaking like a Scholar. Either way, his oldest friend was acting strange, and he was determined to understand the reasons why.

  Today was rest day and they had agreed to meet in the square. Seb was working up the courage to mention seeing Kiarra again or discuss Reed's mood. He was distracted when a hulking city guardsman and his trailing Shadow from the Information Exchange House paused outside Kiarra's building. Both men looked over at them before continuing inside.

  "What do you suppose that's about?"

  Reed furrowed his brow. For the first time that morning, he wasn't pretending to read his book. "Could be nothing," Reed answered with a shrug.

  Seb didn't agree. He had a burning suspicion their visit involved Kiarra. "You suppose her dad has gone and done something awful?" His tone was serious for once. If he'd hurt Kiarra, he would beat the man to a bloody pulp himself.

  "Why involve a Shadow?" Reed mused contemplatively.

  Seb kicked at the dirt under his feet, the cold marble of the fountain ledge under his bottom biting. Reed sat on the ground, his back propped against the stone. Technically, the Information Exchange House employed couriers, runners, messengers, archivists, and ambassadors. But it was common knowledge that the best worked as spies and assassins. Like the Greenies of the Planning House, they were called Shadows by the other Houses. The man who had just entered Kiarra’s building hadn't the look of a courier. He had looked like one of the best. Even in full daylight, he appeared to blend into the crowd. Seb amused himself trying to remember his face but the image was foggy. Shadows excelled at being nondescript and unmemorable. If one was involved with Kiarra though, he wanted to remember his face.

  They were still staring quietly at Kiarra's building when the two men emerged from the stairwell and headed straight towards them. Seeing the two intended on engaging them, Reed and Seb rose to their feet. Reed slipped the book he was reading behind his back, and Seb wondered if Reed possessed another banned book. He nearly groaned aloud. The last thing they needed now was an altercation with the law.

  The men were both tall, the guardsman's eyes an icy blue that reflected the washed out morning sky. With his size, he could crush Seb in a fight, but his face wasn't cruel. His hair was really short, further showcasing his strong jaw. The Shadow was brown and gray. His hair and eyes were brown, his skin darkened to the same shade by sun or genetics. He wore the gray of the Information Exchange House. He looked like he enjoyed a good laugh; Seb hoped the joke wouldn't be at their expense.

  The men paused in their forward motion an arm's length away. The four stared at each other, locked in a strange stalemate of mutual curiosity. Besides their imposing musculature, the men didn't intimidate him. He felt a strange sense of benevolence towards them, in fact. He usually made friends quickly though. Reed was the harder man to impress.

  Seb shifted from one foot to the other, brushing hair from his eyes. His foster mom was always encouraging him to cut the fringe, but he had numerous better things to do. Although he made friends easily, the odd sensation creeping upon him was similar to what he'd experienced when he first met Rowan. It was like they'd met before and would meet again. Seb fought against the strange tug of faith. Reed was the believer, not him. A quick glance confirmed his brother seemed similarly unsettled.

  "What's your business with the Waltons?" The guardsman asked in a voice suited to commanding others. Despite the accusatory nature of his words, the question held no menace. Seb sensed his curiosity though.

  Seb shifted on his feet again. "Rowan was my unit-mate in Planning House. I came to deliver his possessions to his mother a couple days ago after I learned he was called into service." He winced internally. He didn't like the sound of his own words. He didn't approve of the King taking Rowan from his family. He wouldn't condone something that had hurt Kiarra so much, and he also missed Rowan.

  "And that's why you've continued to hang around here?" The Shadow asked. His face and tone were devoid of emotion, but his voice had a slight lilting accent. Seb recognized the northern accent from others that had grown up in the mountains surrounding Abilon.

  Seb cleared his throat nervously, but Reed replied. "Is she all right? Her father can be..." his words faded. Seb stared at Reed open-mouthed. He was never so forward with his thoughts. Who was this man impersonating his standoffish brother?

  The guardsman sighed and his posture relaxed. The Shadow followed suit, the laughter Seb had detected now dancing in his eyes. "She's well," the soldier said, "she says he doesn't become violent anymore..." His massive fists clenched. Seb understood. The thought of anyone hurting Kiarra shifted his easygoing nature into something almost murderous. Reed had the glint in his eye that he only had when he was sparring and was permitted to use his full strength on his partner. He had taken a beating at his brother's hands more than once, with permission of course.

  They were all united by a single thought for that moment in time. The significance of the occasion didn't escape Seb. His brother might consider him lacking proper scientific theory, but he was far from unobservant.

  The guardsman thrust his thick arm out. "I'm Mason Brantley, this is Ian." Seb didn't miss the lack of a surname and wondered if it had been omitted for a reason. He'd ask Reed later.

  "I'm Sebastian Graham-Porter; this is my foster brother Reed Porter." They all clasped forearms around the circle, accompanied by an awkward second when they shook diagonally. "What was your business with the Walton family?"

  The guardsman, Mason, flashed healthy white teeth. Seb placed his surname a minute too late. He was the High Commander's son; he had been raised in first tier. Seb had met others raised in first tier, they were typically insufferably arrogant as if they had earned the promotion themselves and were not just born into the privilege. Mason didn't appear to have the same affliction, but he'd just met the man.

  "We delivered a message from the King," the guardsman said simply. Ian, meanwhile, said nothing. "And what is your business with Kiarra, particularly?"

  "What makes you think we have business with Kiarra?" Seb asked defensively. If either of these men were interested in Kiarra romantically, he didn't stand a chance.

  "Because you both follow her around like puppies," the Shadow responded matter of fact. He smirked. "You aren't very good at hiding your interest."

  Reed pushed a hand through his hair. "Well, you would have to be following Kiarra or us to realize that," he pointed out. "I doubt your interest is in a lowly Scholar or Planner."

  "How right you are, Scholar." Ian's tone and words gave nothing away. A moment of silence ensued as they again assessed each other. Seb wished he could read minds.

  "Well, I imagine we will see each other around then." Mason flashed another bright smile, this one complete with dimples. The expression wasn't competitive or threatening, but it wasn't quite friendly either.

  The brothers watched them walk away, n
ot moving from their position. When the soldier and spy rounded the corner past second tier housing, Seb sank back down to the fountain. A large exhalation escaped his tight chest.

  "What in all the Saints?" he asked no one in particular. Reed perched next to him on the fountain instead of resuming his seat on the ground. Seb turned his attention to his brother. "And what is up with you? Ever since we visited Kiarra and her mother the other day, you've been acting weird."

  Reed rubbed one hand back and forth through his hair in a frustrated movement, making every strand even wilder. A couple curls twined around one ear and his forehead. He'd have to visit the barber soon, Seb noted abstractedly. Reed hated his hair when it grew long enough to curl.

  "I didn't want to say anything but things have just become more complicated." Reed paused. Seb waited impatiently, his fingers tapping against the marble beneath him. "I think Kiarra is my Soul Match."

  "What?" Seb exploded, leaping to his feet. He stared at his best friend and brother, flabbergasted. Reed looked chagrined.

  "Seb, I'm not going to act on the attraction. I know you like her. I wouldn't do that to you."

  Seb paced back and forth in front of Reed, thoughts circling his brain like a dog chasing its tail. Reed actually believed in Soul Matches. Seb thought his brother might even still be a virgin. He was saving himself for the one he thought the Fates meant to share his life. For him to say a woman was his Soul Match was no small claim. But his brother's admission didn't lessen his pull to Kiarra. That need to be near her, touch her, watch the light play off her beautiful hair, hear her laugh - all those longings remained. The ache in his groin hadn’t eased since the day he’d met her either. He couldn’t get her out of his mind and out of his dreams.