The Selkie Enchantress

by Sophie Moss

  Nuala untied the straps, lifting the leather flap. A blinding white light pulsed from the satchel as she pulled out the pelt. “Liam in exchange for Owen.”

  ***

  The seal-skin shimmered, sparkling like diamonds through the silver mists. In the distance, Liam heard voices calling out to him. Friends, people he knew, shouting for him to… do something. But he could not tear his eyes away from that beautiful white seal-coat. It called to him—whispering his name, a restless lure over the waves. He lifted a shaky arm, reaching for it, as the memories unraveled like pearls spilling from a broken chain.

  The white selkie. She had come. His fingers brushed over the pelt—the white fur as soft as velvet, as delicate as silk. She had come to claim her land-man. To take him with her, into the sea. Liam fought the pressure building inside his chest, the ringing in his ears. He was never supposed to find the fairy tale. It was supposed to remain hidden.

  But he had unearthed it, threatened to expose the deepest secret of the sea in the name of research. Foolishly assuming they had all passed into legend. She must have known. She must have known he was planning to unveil his findings and had come to stop him.

  Because she could not let this tale spread. Modern humanity would never accept a human sacrifice. They would not accept that a man—a human man—would give his life to keep the peace between the land and the sea. They would see her as a threat—some pagan witchery—and they would seek to destroy her.

  He stumbled back, his heels sinking into the sand. “There has to be another way.”

  “There is no other way!” Nuala fished out a second pelt—a soft silvery-gray, larger than the first—and pushed it toward him.

  He shook his head, backing away from it. The sea lapped up over his feet, teasing him, tempting him. He remembered, now, finding his mother’s name listed in the Trinity Library’s registry. She had checked out the same book only weeks before she had run off and left him and Dominic alone with their father in Dublin. His mother had hidden the tale so he would never find it. Somehow, she had known that he would be looking for it one day. “This is madness.”

  Nuala’s eyes flashed. “I thought you of all people would respect tradition, would find honor in sacrifice.” She pushed the gray pelt into his chest. “You’re a man of history, Liam. A man of the past. You know why you were chosen for this. This is who you were meant to be.”

  A selkie king. A ruler of the seas. Liam struggled to hear the voices of his friends. But the sound of rushing water, of waves rolling over a rocky beach drowned them out. Wet mists crept up, curling around his wrists, tugging him closer to the water’s edge. His arms felt numb as they lifted, as his fingers grasped the seal-skin. A light glimmered deep in Nuala’s eyes.

  He would live out the rest of his days underwater, separated from his home, from his family. He would be forced to marry Nuala. He would never see Caitlin or Owen again. But his family would be safe. They would not struggle. They might grieve, but they would find a way to move on. And his friends, his home, this island—they would be spared.

  He heard the sudden sound of choking, of someone trying desperately to suck air into her lungs. He whirled, but the wall of seals shielded Caitlin from his view. A young seal’s cry, desperate and high-pitched, rang out in the night.

  “Listen to me, Liam. Listen very carefully,” Nuala said. “If you want to save them, you must come with me.”

  He heard footsteps pounding down the cliff path, the voices getting closer. They could not see the white pelt. No one could see it or they’d be driven mad by it. He heard Caitlin suffocating behind the wall of seals, the young seal’s cries growing louder, more frantic. “Can you promise me that my son will be safe? That my family, my friends will be protected?”

  Nuala took his hand. He felt the whisper of cool air, the crackling of ice in his veins. He heard the song in the distance, the voice floating in from the sea. “For as long as we both shall live.”

  Forgive me, Caitlin. He dove into the icy waters, expecting the shock, the sudden loss of air from the cold. But instead, the seal-skin slid over him like a glove. The rush of the water surrounded him, sucking him under. He caught the flash of white and followed it. Into the darkness. Into the pulsing beat of the heart of the sea.

  Chapter 29

  Seals slipped from the sand, into the water. Their desperate cries echoed over the harbor as they fled. Owen thrashed in Caitlin’s arms. He let out a distressed howl and Caitlin dropped back to her knees. She laid him down on the sand. He twisted, writhing as the sound of something tearing, like leather splitting open, peeled through the night.

  Kelsey ran up, sinking down beside Caitlin, her hands shaking as she reached for the wrinkles in the dark seal-skin, edging the slippery coat down Owen’s back. “He’s shedding.”

  Caitlin caught a fleeting glimpse of Dominic running out into the waves, screaming his brother’s name. She heard her friends shouting, the sound of their footsteps pounding over the sand as they ran toward her. She felt the kick of sand, the sting of it as it met her eyes. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe as Owen’s sleek black head of hair emerged from the seal-coat.

  She reached for him, cradling his head as it crested the mouth of the pelt, the oily skin stretching and curling back over his shoulders. She gasped as his arms slid out, extending toward her, covered in a clear odorless mucus. The slap of the seal-skin suctioning back to his skin had Kelsey grabbing the hind fin, tugging it down. Tara stripped off her jacket, covering his naked body as the rest of the pelt peeled away.

  Owen let out a strangled sob as he crawled into Caitlin’s arms, kicking at the pelt until it was no more than a dark lifeless shell at his feet. He shuddered, trembling in her lap. His dark eyes were haunted as he searched the faces huddled over him. Fear swam into his eyes as they transformed from liquid black to a frightened blue-gray.

  His sticky hands inched up Caitlin’s sweater, curling into the threadbare wool at her neck. “Mum?”

  ***

  Red hot fury whipped through Glenna, shooting down her arms, exploding from her fingertips like lightning. A scream tore from her throat as she released it—the fury, the rage, the helplessness. The wooden rowboat at the edge of the beach burst into flames. The wet wood splintered, crackling like bones breaking.

  Moira stepped out of the flames, dropping her red cloak, letting it spill to the sand. “Losing your temper again, darling?”

  “You cannot do this to them!” Glenna screamed when Sam grabbed her, pulling her back against him. “You cannot play with their lives!”

  Smoke curled into the night, a black chimney of grief. Moira laughed, low and wicked. “You surprise me, Glenna.” She walked slowly over the sand, flames snapping from the end of her hair in fiery sparks. “It’s not a bad trade, when you think about it. Liam in exchange for Owen? A husband in exchange for a son?” She looked at Caitlin, narrowing her eyes. “At least Owen will love her. A husband’s love can fade. But a child’s love never strays.”

  “You knew.” Glenna struggled against Sam, scratching her nails down his arms. “You knew all along. You knew I would come here. You fixed it so this awful thing would happen.”

  “Of course, I fixed it.” Moira lifted her chin. “I fix everything.”

  Glenna tore free of Sam’s arms, hurling a ball of fire over the beach. But Moira merely held up her hand. A wall of ice sealed around it. It fell like a ball of hail, shattering when it hit the sand and crumbling into dust.

  “How?” Glenna stumbled back, tripping over the sand. “How is that possible? You don’t have those powers!”

  “Do you think I make these trades for sport?” Moira’s dress crackled around her as she stalked over the sand, furious with her daughter. “Nuala’s foolishness was my gain. She took someone who was never supposed to be taken. She made a mistake—a grave one. And now, with every step closer they get to the kingdom, her powers fade. And feed into mine.”

  “I don’t understand.” Glenna ba
cked up, shaking her head. She saw it now, the lightening of her mother’s strawberry blond hair, the slight sparkle on her high cheek-bones. A powerful, unbeatable force—ice united with fire. “What do you mean, he was never supposed to be taken?”

  “Liam was not a true land-man,” Moira explained. “The same blood runs in his veins that runs in ours—selkie blood. That’s why Nuala was able to change Owen when he was a child.” Her gaze shifted to Caitlin. “She took Owen because she thought he would be enough to replace the selkie child she had lost—and the man she’d been stupid enough to run off with, turning her back on her fate at eighteen.”

  She took a step toward Owen, smiling. “But you weren’t enough for her, were you dear? No,” she hissed as Owen shrank back from her. “She wanted more. She wanted a husband. A man who would help her get back into the kingdom she’d been banished from for stealing you. When she discovered your father was a scholar of myths and legends, when she realized he was looking for her legend, she took the bait. As I knew she would.”

  Moira laughed, a hollow empty sound. “Nuala thought if she took your father, it would appease the king and queen. But she did not take the time to do her research. She did not know that Liam was already from that line. That you were already a part of their family. They did not know when they banished her that you were the child she had taken. They were too blind to see the truth then. And she will never be forgiven for stealing the great-grandson of a king.”

  “But you knew,” Glenna realized. “You knew about Owen. You set this whole thing up!”

  “Of course, I knew,” Moira snapped. “The queen kept an eye on their lineage—on Liam and Dominic. But they did not keep a careful enough eye on the teenage girl who stole Liam’s heart.” Moira’s eyes gleamed as she looked back at Caitlin. “They wrote you off when you rejected him. They thought that was the end of it. But I didn’t. No.” Moira shook her head, walking across the sand to where Caitlin cradled her child in her arms. “I watched you carefully, my dear. I knew you were hiding something when you went to Donegal. I suspected what it was. And I followed you there. Knowing all I had to do was offer my services as a midwife and things would be set into motion—thing that could not be undone.”

  “You cannot do this to them!” Glenna raged. “You cannot throw away lives like this!”

  “I have not thrown away Liam’s life, darling.” Moira brushed her hair back. It glowed like sunlit straw in the mist. “I have done nothing to him except reunite him with his family.”

  “His family is here!” Glenna shouted. “On the island!”

  “I’m afraid you’re wrong, Glenna. Liam’s grandmother is the daughter of the last white selkie. She holds the throne now, guarding it until the next white selkie comes. But now that Nuala’s powers have been stripped, his grandmother will continue to rule the sea. With Liam by her side.”

  “No!” Glenna’s voice echoed over the harbor. “You have to stop this! These people are my friends!”

  “Friends?” Moira turned, her long dress cracking around her ankles like a whip. “Glenna, do not make the same mistake Liam’s mother made. Do not let these people get under your skin.”

  Glenna cried out as her skin began to smolder, as smoke seared from the burns on her arms, glowing red. Sam caught her when her knees gave out, when all the power drained out of her, seeping into the sand like liquid fire.

  “Who is this woman?” Sam hissed into her ear. “Tell me who she is so I can help you!”

  The woman’s eyes twinkled, warming as she looked back at him. “You mean, you haven’t told them about me?” Moira lifted a perfectly winged eyebrow, feigning a look of hurt. “I thought you would have at least told your friends about your own mother.”

  Caitlin let out a strangled cry.

  “Don’t worry.” Moira smiled wickedly at Caitlin. “You may never see your precious Liam again, but he will grow to like his new life. He may even grow to love another one day.”

  Glenna sank to the sand, struggling to breathe over the icy seawater clogging her lungs. Her fingers curled into Sam’s jacket when Caitlin rose, when her friend pushed to her feet, facing the woman who had been the cause of so much grief, of so much destruction in her life.

  Glenna watched the blind rage flood into Caitlin’s eyes. She saw her stance, one of strength, one of a mother preparing to fight for her family. A small ray of hope burned in her heart and she squeezed her eyes shut, sending what little was left of her own power, her own strength into the earth, channeling it to Caitlin.

  Caitlin stared at Moira across the long stretch of beach. The waves curled over the sand like angry slaps. “Bring him back.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, my dear.”

  “You said she failed,” Caitlin challenged, stepping between her son and the woman who had stolen him from her. “That Nuala is losing power as we speak.” Her hands clenched at her sides, her heels digging into the sand, drawing more power from the earth. “You have what you want,” Caitlin shouted. “Bring him back!”

  “What’s done is done, my dear. There is no magic powerful enough to reverse a white selkie’s spell.” Moira smiled down at Owen. “Perhaps one day you will find that Owen is enough for you. Perhaps you will find happiness where Nuala could not.”

  “I will find him,” Caitlin breathed, her words like frozen feathers falling in the night. “I will find Liam and I will bring him back. You will not get away with this.”

  “Oh, my dear.” Smoke curled around Moira, pulling her out of sight. “I already have.”

  Chapter 30

  They spent days combing the beaches, searching the harbor, scouring the cliffs and calling his name. Grief settled like a gray cloak around Caitlin’s shoulders. Like a bird nesting in the hollow of tree, broken and beaten. At dusk each night, she and Owen went back to the beach—the one where they’d lost him. They built a small driftwood fire and listened to the crackle of the flames as the sky grew dark. They watched the surf curl over the sand, waiting for a sign, for a clue that he was there.

  The islanders came with candles, with jars of black sand and bowls of seashells. They brought dried herbs and stones from their gardens, sprinkling them over the sand. They huddled under wool blankets, forcing Caitlin and Owen to sip thermoses of hot tea, steeped in Tara’s rose petals. Sometimes they brought books, children’s stories they found in Caitlin’s cottage. Sometimes they stayed and read them out loud. Even when they knew she wasn’t listening. They read them to the wind.

  Dominic came each night to sit with them, to hold a silent vigil. He said nothing as the pile of trinkets grew around them, adding to it when he could. When Kelsey crawled into his lap, closing her eyes and laying her head on his shoulder to fall asleep as she did every night now, Caitlin picked up a jar of black sand. The tea light flickered inside it. These trinkets—these things from their past—they were meaningless without the man who completed them. She would gladly trade all of it for the chance to see him one last time.

  And she would see him again. They would find him. They would find a way to bring him back. Even if it meant she had to go into the water. She would do anything to save him. Glenna was regaining her strength every day and they would go after him. They would face down her mother and they would win. She tilted the candle, letting the white wax spill over the edge into the black sand. Liam had remembered. These things—these objects that represented the love that had never stopped growing between them—they had brought his memory back. Even if it was only for a moment. He had remembered.

  If these trinkets could bring back his memory, then surely her love could bring him back. She had not thought her love was strong enough to bring a healthy child into this world at sixteen. But she’d been wrong. She had been strong enough. Just not strong enough to see through the black magic of a sea witch. She might not have been ready for it then, might not have understood even if she’d seen the signs.

  But she was ready now. She was strong enough. And no one was going to take he
r family away from her. Her fingers curled around the jar. She might not have magic. But she had something stronger, and ten times more potent. She had the power of love—real, lasting, true love for both Liam and Owen. And she was ready to wield it. She glanced up when she heard a soft thud in the sand where the waves curled over the beach. The ocean receded, leaving eleven long-stemmed yellow roses in its wake.

  ***

  She’d sent him on an errand. Again. Sam scoured the scraggly plants growing along the edges of the rocky footpaths, using his pocketknife to slice off a handful of what he hoped was the right weed. He’d been pacing outside Glenna’s cottage for days. Tara was inside, healing her with all her powers, both human and selkie. She kept sending him for herbs, for different balms and tinctures she kept in her office. And now she’d sent him for some winter weed that grew around the edge of the bogs.

  He was starting to wonder if she was even using the things he brought back, or just making things up and trying to give him something to do, so he wouldn’t stand outside and worry and pace. But how could he not worry? When someone as strong as Glenna fell to pieces in your arms, it was hard not to think that the world was falling apart.

  A gull cawed, swooping low over the stone walls. He followed its path west along the row of pastures, picking his way over the trail leading back to Glenna’s cottage. He let himself in, pausing in her doorway when he spotted Tara helping Glenna to her feet.

  “No.” He shook his head, closing the door and walking into the room. “You’re not ready yet.” He dropped the handful of weeds onto the table, taking her elbow when she wobbled unsteadily. “You can barely stand on your own.”

  Glenna looked up at him. “It’s time.”

  Sam kept shaking his head. He caught the determination in her eyes, the subtle lift of her chin. But it was going to take so much more than that. It was going to take all of her strength when she called her mother back, when she tried to break this terrible spell. “What’s going to happen to you? If this is how drained you were from the last time?”