Page 30 of Soulgazer

The currach rocks violently as I lurch to my knees, gripping the boat’s sides along with my sanity. “Yousaidto come find your ship. But it was already out on the water—I thought you meant it as some stupid test!”

Faolan blinks and then releases a howl of laughter, his head dropping back with the sound.

I clench my teeth hard to keep them from chattering and glower at my sodden skirts, attempting to drag them closer to cover my legs. I’ve barely cleared a space when my equally waterlogged sack drops to the curved panels between my feet, hardly making a sound.

“Ah, winds o’ fury, you’re serious.” Faolan wipes actual tears from his eyes. “You’ll be a right bit of chaos, won’t you, Trouble? I’ve been waiting all this time by the rocks. Half thought you’d changed your mind, but it turns out you’re just bloody late.”

He turns a lazy grin on me, and I flinch, looking away. “I was kept.”

“By drowning?”

The thick fringe of hair cut across my forehead drips salt water into my eyes. I push it back with a swipe of my hand, not caring for once that it exposes them. They’re what he’s after, anyway.

“By my father.” It’s only then I notice the water isn’t making a sound as it laps the sides of the boat. “I…didn’t hear you approach.”

“Right, and you wouldn’t have. Too fixed on that test, weren’t you?”

A flush scorches my skin at Faolan’s smug reply. I glare at thecurved wood beneath my feet, where seaweed clings to the bottom edge of my skirt.

He shifts. Clears his throat.

“You’ve heard of the tuar ceatha from the Isle of Painted Claw, haven’t you?”

“Aye.” The crane’s iridescent feathers were said to render a wearer silent when woven through their hair, but Faolan’s is untouched by feathers or other adornment. Curiosity steals my embarrassment. “Are you saying this boat is lined in them?”

“No.” Faolan brightens, giving a hard tug on the oars. “But one of my crew figured out that if you take the sap of the trees they like to roost in, you can mix it into a lacquer—along with a few other things, mind—and coat the bottom of a vessel, oars, ropes. As long as it’s a decently cloudy night, or they’re not looking directly for our ship, we can slip by silent as we please.”

I frown at once. “Why do you need a silent ship?”

Faolan’s smile tightens at the corners. “Why not? Anyway, there’s no ship quite like mine. D’you know her name?”

I shake my head and shift a touch closer to inspect the oar as it rises.

Faolan leans in, blocking my view. “Neither do I.”

An incredulous huff escapes my lips, and his grin returns full force. “What? It’s true. Every time I’ve faced her down and asked, she goes feckin’ coy on me. It’s a damn shame because a ship is only as notorious as its name. I worry, sometimes, that she’ll be forgotten.”

All I know is that every blast of wind off the sea burrows its way deeper beneath my damp dress, and I can’t quite sort who I’m angriest with: myself for taking to the water, or Faolan for playing such games this morning that I thought it might be a test at all.

“I don’t.” I don’t see how it matters much either as I study his face. “You haven’t changed your mind, then? About the marriage?”

His eyes lock on mine in the semidark, fingers drumming the oars before he hauls them back in a weaving pattern. “No, I gave my word. And if I believe in anything in this life, it’s that.” He grins. “Besides, who wouldn’t want a wife willing to swim fully clothed during high tide just to reach his arms?” A hand drops to his chest. “Really, I’m touched.”

I glare at those same arms, flexed with every pull on the oars. “You could have stopped me.”

“And missed seeing that lovely, determined wee scrunch to your nose? I think not.”

“Now you’re just being clever.”

“Better clever than cruel.” The ship looms overhead, and I try to sit up straighter, hugging my arms tighter at my middle. He follows my gaze to the barnacles clinging overhead and clears his throat. “My cousin’s on board to perform the marriage rites. That’s why we had to wait for the fifth sacrifice to be done—not that it mattered much in the end.”

I stare at the railing, so far above my head, it’s hard to distinguish against the evening sky. My parents’ ship was secured to the docks, wooden steps or ramps allowing us to ascend with ease. There are no such structures here on open waters. “And how are we supposed to reach ‘on board’?”

A soft laugh chases Faolan before he pulls up beside the ship and lifts his hand to his lips, letting out a piercing whistle. A heartbeat passes, and a rope ladder tumbles over the railing, striking the side of the ship before us.

I can barely make it to my feet, already dreading the graceless climb ahead. I can only imagine the humiliation that will comewhen I reach the top, sweaty and red-faced,ifI even make it to my own wedding.

Gods.