Page 6 of Soulgazer

His eyes capture mine as he tears it with the slightest twist of his fingers.

“Are you a fanciful girl?”

I drop the cup. Wine splatters across my hem, flecked like blood along the white as the black darkens to pitch. The stranger watches with an expression carved from stone—until his eyes flick past my shoulder just as another voice cages me from behind.

“Answer the king, Saoirse.”

My father steps into the light. “Rí Maccus has never been known for his patience.”

Maccus? I blink, and another name floats to the surface, whispered long ago by my brother with equal parts fear and awe.

The Stone King.

Ruler of the Isle of Unbound Earth. Maccus’s land once belonged to the god of stonemasons, blacksmiths, and miners, abundant in minerals and every sort of gem. Yet by his father’s reign, it was little more than a chain of barren mountains, unleashing disease and waste the deeper they dug. Many have died attempting to bear children there, including his first wife, and with her their newborn son.

But it is not this truth that unmoors me.

It’s that this man, Maccus, sought me out. He spoke my name, drew me into the light—not out of curiosity or kindness, but because he wanted to inspect a broodmare he’d already claimed for purchase.

Shame carves a cruel path down my spine.

“I…”

I have nothing to say.

Rí Maccus’s thumb holds the weight of the earth against my shoulder, crushing the frail ember of hope I’d dared to rekindle. “I apologize for finding her before you could introduce us, Dermot. I wanted to see what’s left of the girl’s mind.”

Da’s keen eyes fall on me. “And your verdict, my king?”

“She is intact.” A muscle twitches in Rí Maccus’s jaw. He does not let me go. “It’s strange that you kept her away for so long. Seven years, was it not?”

“Aye.”

Maccus taps once against my collarbone—then hooks his thumb beneath my jaw, forcing my face to the light. With that firm touch, a dark emotion at last trickles in. Slick and snakelike,coiling past the amulet’s numbing shield straight into my heart: contempt. I shudder from the unfamiliar weight of it inside me, stomach threatening to purge it along with the wine.

“Strange, too, that she should arrive the same night as Kiara’s cousin. Did you hear the tale the Wolf is spreading? About a girl with ocean eyes.”

Da goes still. Then he adjusts the signet ring on his smallest finger. Crinkles his eyes, lip twitching up like he’s in on the joke. My pulse had started to falter; now it flies twice as fast.

It’s worse than a rage, watching my father shed one skin for the next.

“Is this the same ‘Wolf’ who claimed to seduce a selkie last year, right after he skinned that giant squid? Or am I getting the two stories confused—he has ever so many of them. Such a wit.” Da tilts his head. Smiles. “But I’m surprised atyou, Maccus. You’ve never been susceptible to his particular charms.”

Maccus drops his hand. It takes everything in me not to scream—with relief at the release of his emotion and with horror at what’s to come. But who would listen to me if I did? Not a damned person here would dare interrupt a talk between two kings.

I swallow it down and wrap my arms around my waist as Maccus becomes a mountain once again, shoulders blocking the firelight until I am nothing but his shadow. “I am asking if there is anything to be concerned about, Dermot.”

Da’s humor melts away. “Nothing that won’t be resolved tonight.”

“Good.” Rí Maccus turns to me, and I can’t help but shrink. For a split second, something crosses his features—something like regret. It’s gone by the time I return my gaze to the ground. “Best to leave any romantic notions now, because they won’t buy youkindness in my home. It’s a brutal land, crafted without mercy. Bear a healthy child, lass, and you will be rewarded. Is your role understood?”

“A-aye.”

“It’s done, then. Dermot?” Rí Maccus turns to my father, and it takes all my strength not to crumple to the ground. “We’ll settle the affair with the seanchaí—your daughter’s hand for the masonry and labor to fortify the southern caverns of your island. I’ll send the first share once the marriage is consummated, the next when she’s carrying my child, the last when it’s born healthy and whole. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

My future is sealed by the slapping of two palms coated in spittle.

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