All the Stars and Teeth(63)
“No. I’d want to understand.”
He grinds his teeth together, hesitant, but the words come quickly. As though he desperately wants to share them. “It’s Zudian magic, as you guessed.”
“How?” I ask. “Curse magic stays contained, doesn’t it? When I let go of the necklace, the curse followed it, not me. I wasn’t cursed permanently.”
His sigh tells me it’s more complicated than that. “Zudoh used to be the most popular island in the kingdom. It was often visited by curious tourists and people who sought potions and protective cursed charms to bring back to their own islands. About thirteen years ago, this started to change.
“Part of Zudoh wanted to separate from the kingdom,” he continues. “They wanted to expand their reach, their power, and do more than make trinkets for rich tourists. They saw a way for their magic to grow. But to achieve that, they needed a way to create curses that could last forever—by binding them to a person’s soul.”
“They learned soul magic?” My palms are clammy with sweat as I inhale a sharp breath. King Cato restricted it to the Montara bloodline, to protect our people from the beast he fought off centuries ago. “But it’s not meant to be learned by others. It’s the Montaras’ burden to carry.”
“And it can only be the Montaras’ burden,” he says. “That’s why Kaven had to create something new. It’s essentially cursed soul magic. You can’t destroy someone’s soul like you can with Aridian magic, but you can curse one.”
The room’s temperature drops ten degrees. Even with the warmth of Bastian’s hand against my skin, I shudder. “How are they still alive?” Multiple magics break down a person’s body and soul until they eventually cease entirely. Protecting people from that is how my magic even came to exist.
“I don’t know,” he admits, “but it’s the truth. Those who practice this magic can steal and curse half a soul.”
How would a cursed person even continue to exist, with half of them missing? I’d call Bastian a liar if I hadn’t seen his soul myself. “How does it work?”
Bastian’s face darkens. “First they use soul magic to access someone’s soul. And then, using their victim’s blood, they can curse part of their soul into anything. Take my relationship with Keel Haul, for example. Kaven cursed me to this ship; that’s why I’m forced to stay on it, and why I get sicker the longer I’m away from it. A person can’t live comfortably with only half their soul.”
I think back to his clammy skin and sharp breaths during our time in Ikae. We’d only been off the ship for a few hours. “What would happen if Keel Haul were destroyed? Would you die?”
Bastian shakes his head. “I’d survive, but it wouldn’t be a life worth living. I’d become a shell of a person, empty and void. I’d desire nothing but my broken soul.”
My head spins as I try to process this. “And what would happen to Keel Haul if you died?”
“As much as I love her, this ship is nothing more than a ship. Keel Haul holds part of my soul, not the other way around. Should I die, she’d go back to being a normal ship, no longer bound to anyone. I feel what she feels, as my soul is within her. It doesn’t work the other way around; nothing of her is within me. I can use our connection to help sail her, but that’s the extent of my power over Keel Haul.”
My skin cools with sweat. “Can everyone in Zudoh do this?” Because if they can, how does he expect us to win this fight? One drop of blood, and our souls would be as good as gone.
Bastian shakes his head, voice taking a defensive edge. “The last I heard, only a few practiced this magic. It started off as a small group, brought to life by the son of the island’s leading ambassador—Kaven.
“What you need to understand is that our magic isn’t meant to be like this,” he continues. “It’s meant to be protective. To put wards on your house so that you can sleep easy at night, or dissuade children from touching things that may be too dangerous for them. Things like that. But Kaven broke away from this style of curse magic and formed something dark and new, and if you’re not with him, you’re against him.” When Bastian speaks of his home island, his words are passionate. Yet cool sweat licks my throat, my body sick to its core. Kaven isn’t a simple opponent. He’s a wielder of an unheard of new magic, which makes him dangerous.
“Why wouldn’t my family do anything about this?” I ask. “My father wouldn’t stand for such a twisted magic.”
“Your father was the one who declared Zudoh’s banishment from the kingdom, when their intention to learn soul magic became clear. He took Suntosan healers off our island, and cut us off from trading. He probably thought they’d never manage to learn it—that this mess would sort itself and they’d come back begging to be a part of the kingdom again. But he was wrong. This magic has divided Zudoh, and the island is in a crisis. The Montaras are the reason my people are struggling.” His grip relaxes on the sheets as he peels himself away.
The ship stirs with the same discomfort that claws at me, swaying uneasily against even the smallest waves. It is not the confident, magical ship I’m used to.
“How long has half your soul been cursed to Keel Haul?”
Bastian tries to smile, but it withers as the weight of the truth hits him. “Since I was a child. Zudoh’s a small island, so there was no hiding from Kaven. I was young when he tried to recruit me, promising kids he’d teach us magic like it was a shiny new toy. My parents wouldn’t let him have me, so he had them killed and took me away—as he did with every child he could get his hands on—to study cursed soul magic. I never learned it, though.”