Page 13 of Soulgazer

Anger rips through my shock, sending me off-balance until I fist both hands against the ground.

Not a single day of my childhood passed that I did not touch my lips to those bloodstained stones.

“This whole time…you made me think this was something I could control. That I wasn’t praying hard enough to change it, or—or that I somehow asked for this curse, but—”

“What part of this can’t you understand?Youare the curse, Saoirse.”

My father’s voice—this splintered, misshapen version of it—sinks into my gut like a knife. I search his face for the man who once held my chubby hand to steady my fledgling steps across a flagstone hall.

There is only loathing in his eyes now.

“I should have cast you into the sea the moment you opened those eyes and I recognized you for what you were. A death bringer, full of the ocean’s madness and want.”

Stitches pop where my fingers tighten in the folds of my dress as, slowly, Da crouches until his face is level with my own. “I thought you were smart enough to wear the amulets. Thought they might be enough to last. But like my mother, you are weak. And I have no place in my home for useless creatures.”

The room blurs around me. I search for my mother. She’s looking away.

My whole life, she’s only ever looked away.

“I’m—sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll try again.Pleaselet me.”

Da shakes his head. “I spared the babe who clutched my finger in her cradle. And look what that mercy has cost.”

I hate the way my chest heaves with each breath now. Hate the keening sounds of my sobs echoed by Mam’s across the room, even as I stifle them with a sleeve. But I hate the storm of magic more—sensations peeling me open from the inside.

I reach for Da’s hand in one last, weak attempt at childhoodbelief. The amulet dangles from his fingertips. “I-I’m sorry, Da. Please let me wear it. I c-can make it work.”

He jerks his hand back before I can take the amulet, disgust mapped across his features. “Sionn, it’s time.”

The shadows bend as my father’s apothecary steps through the door.

Five

My body rebels at the sight of Sionn’s gaunt frame, eyes gleaming too bright for the low candlelight. He has aged in a way that comes from substance, not time: hair so pale it’s nearly white, skin draped like wax over his prominent bones. I have only ever seen him lingering in the shadows—passing corked bottles of elixir in exchange for coin. Aidan used to hurry me along if we ever passed him in the halls.

The apothecary is Da’s greatest secret, guarded as ferociously as he ever hid me.

“Hello, Saoirse.” My name feels wrong on his lips, like a pearl perched on a viper’s tongue.

I wince, but as he steps forward, Mam shifts into his path, her shoulders stretched as sharp as wings. “No.”

“Leannon,” Da says, his voice low—but she stays.

For the first time, my mother stays.

“She’s done nothing wrong, Dermot. It’s the soulstone. That’s all.” Her knuckles are white where she rubs them, fingers locked over one another as though she’s guarding her bravery inside. “I know you’re concerned, but can’t we wait a bit longer?”

“Leannon—”

Mam takes a half step forward, and the rigid line of his back softens. Her hope flutters between us, coaxing air back into my lungs. “The Wolf is launching a quest for the Isle of Lost Souls. I know you dislike him, but with his reputation—there’s a good chance he’ll actually find it.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

There is a bitter edge to Da’s voice as he flicks one hand in a silent order. I scramble back, an echo of my mother’s retreat as Sionn shuts the door. “You’re asking me to gamble the fate of our entire island on a fairy tale whenshehas already cost me my heir.”

The reminder of Conal’s death is all it takes. Mam’s hope dies like a starling in the shadow of a hawk.

I cower, alone, against the wall.