Page 58 of Cursebreaker

The mouse in my pocket goes still.

“Whenever Owen is ready to see us,” Father says softly, squeezing my hand, “we’ll be waiting.”

A tear slips onto my cheek as my siblings all avoid looking at my parents, as if determined to let Owen reveal himself if he chooses—when he chooses.

Rook lets out a low whistle. “So that settles it,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “We’re off to hunt some treasure?”

“Rook Valier,” Father says with an exasperated smile. “You were just a child when we met. Are you staying out of trouble?”

Diana snorts. “Hardly.”

Father turns to Diana. “And little Nana Barrow,” he says, and at his acknowledgment she performs a mock curtsy. Father grins, his eyes softening. “Your little brother misses you.”

Diana’s throat bobs. She manages a small nod.

“You should go with them,” I say to Rook and Diana, who look at me as if I had just given them an order to jump overboard. Before they can argue, I turn to Jack and Margaret, sitting beside each other at the foot of my bed, their hands clasped. “You too. Both of you.”

I can feel Mother’s eyes on me, but I refuse to look at her and see if it’s respect or disappointment in her gaze.

Lewis scrubs a hand over his face. “Not this again.”

“We’re all going,” Eliza says fiercely, stepping forward.

“This is our fight, too,” Charlie adds, crossing his arms.

“I don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” I say, my throat tight. “I have to do this—it’s my power Morana’s after, my blood that unlocks the map. But the rest of you—” I swallow hard. “The rest of you have a choice.”

“And we choose to go with you,” Henry says, standing. He pierces me with his steely gray eyes, like flint ready to strike—to spark. “Just because you can do this alone, doesn’t mean you have to.”

“We’re with you, Aster.” Jack gets to his feet, his expression sincere. “To the bitter end.”

Gratitude swells in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I take in each of their determined faces—my siblings and my friends—and hope sparks anew, setting me aflame.

I look at Mother, finally. There’s a faraway glint in her eyes, as if she were looking at me and seeing someone else.

She dips her head. Just once. Enough to say, Go on, then. Lead.

I clear my throat. “What can you tell us?” I ask Father. “About the Elysian Navigator—about the Relics?”

Mother and Father share a loaded glance. Something clicks, like a key tumbling a lock.

“That’s why you left the Red Island, isn’t it?” I ask quietly, reverently. “To search for the Relics?”

Killian seems to come awake at this, his posture sharpening, expression guarded as he watches Father with narrowed eyes.

“Part of the reason, yes,” Father answers, tugging at the collar of his shirt. His expression hardens when he looks down at the map once more, the ghost of a memory glazing his eyes. “It’s the only way to put an end to the curse,” he says with great effort, as if he were making a promise to end an argument—as if he broke that promise, and it broke him in return. He drags his gaze from the map to meet my eyes. “But the map… it isn’t as direct as it seems.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I spent years of my life chasing clues.”

My eyes narrow. “You’re telling me the Helm isn’t actually in Hellion?”

He sighs. “It could be,” he says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.

“And if it’s just another clue?”

It’s as if the decades he’s spent searching for the Relics weighed on his shoulders, harsh and unforgiving. An unshakable burden. “Welcome to the hunt.”

A heavy silence. And then—

“Morana won’t be after the Elysian Navigator.” It’s Titus who speaks. Throughout our meeting, he’s been quiet—reserved. But now he holds Father’s stare, his voice low and even. “She’s going to let Aster find the Relics first.”