Page 87 of Soulgazer

It’s a barter, and not a very good one. I steal a hand to my throat and rub the skin near raw as salt trickles into the corner of my mouth on a tear. “The god of chaos and storms strangled me. I…died.”

It’s the truth. Bewildering and terrifying as it is. And though I know Faolan will believe me, I can’t bring myself to look him in the eye. “Except I wasn’t me, I was—her. The seventh goddess. They were all there in that chamber, the Slaughtered Ones, like it was their own Ring of Stars.”

Faolan says nothing. He tugs at the ties of his glove until theylie flat once more, rings catching the light from his bare hand. “The Scath-Díol forms at the dead center of the Crescent. Brona can show you on the maps—and it’s always been a strange strip of land, even for our world. If the gods were meeting anywhere…I suppose it makes sense it would be here.”

I hug myself tighter. Hide my face so Faolan doesn’t see me fall apart as the rest of the vision seeps into my memory past the growing pain in my head.

“I watched her foretell the fall of the gods. She warned them of the slaughter—said that people would rise against them all. She—” My voice fractures down the middle. I swallow to make it whole. “She didn’t have to. The seventh goddess could have spared herself somehow, because she also knew that they would kill her. But she sent her handmaids away to safety, warned the other gods, and theystill—”

I bite down on my palm as tears carve scalding paths down my face. Faolan doesn’t reach for me this time, though, his face shifting through a dozen emotions at once. It hurts almost worse than the burning of my back.

“They killed her for it, Faolan. Crushed her throat. She was a goddess of fate and the sea—not its master, a mouthpiece. She onlyknewwhat would happen, just like—”

Me.

Just like me.

There were many names for them. People with the knowledge of the sea in their eyes.

I lift a trembling hand to my cheek, brushing it over the fragile crescent above the bone. “And their eyes…They had eyes like mine. The group of girls standing behind her.”

“Handmaids, you called them?”

At my nod Faolan jerks back, but his lips split into a suddengrin. Unsettling and wild, like the one he gave just before I dove to find my grandmother’s bones. I lean back in the boat, tucking my hands below my knees as he transforms from Faolan to the Wolf of the Wild before my eyes.

“Well, there’s one answer at least. They must’ve been favored servants granted the sight—there are loads of songs about people blessed by the gods for their talents or devotion. You’re probably descended from one.”

I think of that familiar girl. The gentle hand on her cheek.

“No, that can’t be right. The descendants of the gods were killed, too, during the uprising. The bastards and blessed as well—all the seanchaí agree on that. Anyone bearing magic—”

“You don’t think at least one or two managed to escape?” Faolan barks a laugh, relief laced through the sound. My stomach clenches, and I wipe my face dry. “ ’Specially if they were only gods-blessed. It would be easier to hide than someone born with power—of course they’d keep quiet.”

“I…” If that were the case, wouldn’t there be more people like me? “I don’t know.”

The uprising was absolute, every lineage obliterated down to the last drop of divine blood. It started with the Daonnaí—my family’s ancestor and the five others selected by their isles, armed with righteous anger, wit, and weapons forged by the gods themselves. If there were blessed handmaids among those hunted, I doubt they survived.

I shudder, too drained to do much more than fumble for the rope that hangs down as the currach bumps along the ship’s side. But Faolan is buzzing with life.

“Feckin’ hell, Saoirse, thishasto be it.” He claps his hands together, any concern left by the vision gone. “The other gods destroyed her image and throne, killed the poor creature, and sankthe Isle of Lost Souls to cover up what they’d done! Why else would it’ve disappeared along with the gods if it weren’t for that? It was one of the reasons the people rose up against them in the first place, wasn’t it?”

My head throbs with the weight of it all. “I— What?”

Faolan catches my elbow and hauls me to my feet. “The lost goddess! The seventh. She’s the patron of the Isle of Lost Souls, there’s no way around it. And if you share blood with one of her blessed handmaids, it explains why you have visions—you can see past all the bullshite to the heart!” He takes my chin. “You’re connected to the isle itself, Trouble. It really was you I was looking for, all this time.”

I fist his coat in my hands, the rush of words a blur in my mind. “Faolan—”

He turns me around, nudging me forward to the rope ladder. “Come on. We’ve got to find that damned ring.”

I have no more strength to fight him or ask questions. In less than a minute, I’m climbing the rope, no need to be tossed over his shoulder. I don’t know when my legs and arms grew stronger, but even with fatigue settling in after the magic, they pull me over the railing without much effort.

But on the deck, it’s all I can do to stand upright. Numb as I watch the crew gather for their captain. My eyes will barely stay open, swollen as they must be from crying.

That is, until Faolan throws himself over the railing, smiling wider than I’ve ever seen.

“Oi! Gather round, you lot. It’s time I brought you out of the dark about why I married Saoirse in the first place. What this ocean-eyes business is really about.”

Instantly, I am awake.

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