Page 124 of Soulgazer

“Conal was calling to me in the rooms above. I didn’t understand it until I saw his soulstone. H-he’s been afraid for so long—dyingover and over, and I-I just wanted to help him. I need to give him rest. But I didn’t realize I was bleeding, and I didn’tmeanto touch the soulstone!”

Faolan lowers his hand from the bronze wolf strapped to his side, coming closer. His eyes are afraid. “Saoirse?”

I step back before Faolan can reach me, terrified of losing the very last person to regard me with anything close to affection. And beneath my skin, the bright colors spread faster, clinging to my very veins.

“Da was furious when he found me. He attacked me, and it scared me so much that I—I grabbed the stone. But I didn’t mean to bring him into the vision. I think that’s where he still is.Drowning.” My voice wavers. Breaks. “I don’t know how to bring him back.”

Kiara’s face turns thoughtful even as she takes a wary step back, but Aidan…

Any hint of gentleness or love is gone from his face now, replaced with pure disgust. “You tampered with Conal’s soulstone.”

“No.” I hold it higher, and all of them stumble back. “It’s not broken—I would never hurt him! Hecalledto me, Aidan. I have to help him. Don’t you understand?”

“Guard. Fetch a chest.”

I clutch the last piece of my eldest brother as the guard disappears through a door and returns with a small chest, her hands protected by thick leather gloves. “Wait. No—please don’t take him back there. He’s so cold—soalone. Aidan, I’m going to find the Isle of Lost Souls like I said. I-I’m going to bring him there, give him peace. Please!”

It takes little effort for the guard to pry it from my fingers, weak as I am. Not even Faolan dares come closer. The scream that leaves my lips is one of pure agony, a sound I do not recognize as my own—until she shuts the chest, severing a tether I hadn’t realized was there.

I drop my forehead to the ground in a wash of relief and guilt, and so many other things, watching as the marks fade back into my skin. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t know if Aidan hears my whisper. Faolan catches one of my arms as Kiara takes the other, pulling me to stand on legs that threaten to give out at any moment. Aidan stands apart, shaken and pale, his eyes gone flat.

“We’re leaving.” Kiara’s voice is a wall of stone, her grip just as hard. “If you wish to accuse Saoirse, you can take it before the Ring of Stars, but until then she lies under my protection.”

Aidan squares his shoulders, wipes his expression clean. “Get out, then.”

My legs threaten to give way. “Aidan—”

“Go.”

Forty-Seven

The coastline disappears into pure horizon behind us as night falls, yet still I cannot stop trembling. I’d thought Da was wrong. That my magic wasn’t dangerous or misspent, but a blessing of true sight. I’d earnestly believed that I could be free of fear—ofshame—no matter what visions came or emotions wound their way in currents between myself and whoever was around me.

I’d stopped craving nothingness.

But then I lost myself in my brother’s soul, and my grandmother’s in the sea before that. And I realize now, it’s not the knowing that scares me.

It’s the power of a damaged soul and how easily I respond to its call.

“Easy, love.” Faolan smooths a hand over my hair, fingers catching in the wreath of forget-me-nots, and I drop my head to his shoulder. “It’s all behind us now.”

Brona appears at his shoulder, a blanket tossed over her arm. Nessa isn’t far behind, fussing with ropes though her eyes land on me between one knot and the next. None of them spoke much after helping us onto the ship, too focused on getting out before Maccus or the other royals arrived.

“You should eat something.” Brona holds out the blanket, and Faolan wraps it over my bare shoulders. I hadn’t even realized I was cold. “It’ll help with the shock.”

“I can’t.” The words fumble across my tongue.

“Bollocks on that. Lorcan?” Brona calls over her shoulder, and the bosun appears less than a breath later. His smile reaches into my chest like a hand, squeezing my heart until it hurts.

“Can you at least manage some bread? We sneaked into the village the second day after you left. It’s a bit stale but better than the usual fare. Or I have some broth below.”

Lorcan holds out a hunk of nutty-brown bread wrapped in wax cloth, lines scored across the top to mimic mushrooms. My throat burns when I try to swallow down tears.

“Thank you.” I manage to take it in hand but turn my face into Faolan’s neck before he can force me to try a bite. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he murmurs, drawing me closer as he looks over my head. “What’s done is done.”