Page 29 of Soulgazer

I’ll take this with me. A promise—a vow. If we cannot find the Isle of Lost Souls and the curse cannot be cleansed, then I’ll lock it away myself. Finish the tattoo and be free of the magic one way or another. Whatever life is left to me after, I’ll take it.

I don’t need to be a story, but I won’t be nothing either.

Ten

Faolan’s ship is a finely carved extension of himself, cutting out of the water like it was born of a crashing wave. Perhaps the stories hold a thread of truth, and starlight did go into its making. After all, I’ve never seen sails glow quite like that. Even bound to their masts, they seem to catch every moonbeam from the sky.

My heart drops by a measure as, one by one, they unfurl.

“No.”

I break free of the trees to careen down the eastern beach, my gaze locked onto the sky. Faolan said to come after the fifth sacrifice, when everyone was drunk but the ceremony not quite done. He promised his ship would be waiting for me. Yet by the time I’d floundered onto the docks, sweat-soaked and shaking, all six columns of smoke had tapered into one sooty, violet mass rolling into itself like a pot of boiling nettles.

The mass is gone now, replaced by a smattering of melancholy gray wisps.

It’s too late. He’s leaving me behind.

I make it as far as the water’s edge before sinking to my knees, shoulder aching under the weight of the single bag I managed to smuggle out. Cold sweat gathers across my upper lip and thegrooves of my palms. I wrap them on either side of my neck, pressing until the nausea subsides and clarity takes its place.

Harsh and unforgiving.

He was never going to take me, was he? Who was I to think I belonged in a story next to someone likehim. Faolan probably had a good laugh about it with his crew—taking bets like they did this morning on whether I’d cry.

Rough, green-tinged boulders dot the beach, smelling of seaweed and the coming tide. Past them, a wooden she-wolf stands guard at the bow of Faolan’s ship, her smooth head thrown back as it drifts toward the open sea.

Moonlight glances off the water, painting my skin translucent so the veins stand out twice as strong. I can’t stand their faint blue quiver. As I twist my arms close, silver light glints off a finely wrought scrap of metal: the wolf’s head set with eyes of sapphire.

I stare at the ring. Turn it slowly around my finger.

Faolan wouldn’t have left it behind—not unless he meant to have it back. He likes games, tricks, wordplay. And I’ll bet he hated allowing me the upper hand during our negotiation.

So much so that he’d want to even the scales before facing his crew again.

Waves crash on the sand, spraying my face and lapping at my boots as they creep higher with the tide. I cast his ship one more hard look, judging the distance between it and my place onshore. Then I tug at the laces of my boots, pulling them and my stockings free.

If this is a test, I’m not about to fail. Not when every second I linger, a guard could catch me—drag me back to my father, his apothecary, and the Stone King’s altar.

I’d rather be the fool in Faolan’s story than nothing at all.

I wrap my cloak around the boots and stockings, then tuck thebundle as far into my bag as it will go. My hands shake in anticipation of the cold water, or perhaps because whatever strength I used to get this far has left only dregs behind. But I still manage to unbuckle the leather-roped belt from my waist, winding it around the bag until I’m sure my belongings won’t be swallowed by the sea.

I edge into it then, in small measures, clenching my teeth when it hits my thighs. Though summer shone brightly this morning, the ocean hasn’t forgotten winter’s kiss. Soon, I am fighting to keep my head above water through sheer will alone, cutting the waves with awkward sweeps of my arms as I kick furiously below.

Damn the Wolf and his tricks.

The water shifts, circling my legs like a shark, and it’s been so long since I swam that I’ve forgotten what it means. It’s not until the current pulls hard at my calves and sweeps my feet forward that I see the hungry wave cresting just over my head.

Salt floods my mouth and nose as I’m tumbled head over feet again and again, the leather strap of my bag cutting into my throat until another shift tears it free from my arm. When my head breaks the surface, I retch as darkness spins around me, then slowly rights itself. It takes effort to remain afloat—to separate the stars from the sea. I breathe.

And then release a stream of curses at the sky. “Pox-riddled, wolf-obsessed—bastard!”

“Well, that’s a wee bit harsh, isn’t it?”

My full-throated scream lasts only a second before I slip beneath the waves, drawing in water once more. A hand knots in the back of my dress like the scruff on a wayward pup, hauling me through the air. I barely register the wooden edge of the currach when Faolan drops me onto one end of the little boat. My toes catch between the ribbed slats of wood at its base.

I’m still coughing as I stare at him, scrambling for purchase against the curved hull. “W-what are you doing?”

“Rescuing you. I told you to come find my ship, not dive headfirst into the waters, eejit.”

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