Blameless: The Parasol Protectorate: Book the Third

by Gail Carriger

  She was looking at me like I was supposed to understand what she’d said. So I just stared right back, beginning to tire of this game.

  “Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’ve gotta throw me a bone, here. What’s first contact? And I assume you’re not talking about a fashion magazine when you say glamour.” Now that I was asking questions, the most obvious one popped into my head. “And what the hell are you people, anyway?”

  Nell and Trill exchanged looks, and Nell said, “How much did your mother tell you about her… family?”

  I was taken aback. The last direction I thought this conversation would go was toward my mystery mother and her unknown origins.

  “Her family? Nothing at all. She was apparently too busy planning her abandonment of me to bother filling in a family tree.” Okay, fine, I’m bitter.

  Nell sighed. “This always makes it harder.” She got that same look of concentration on her face that my college professors had when we couldn’t grasp a particularly difficult concept and they knew they were going to have to reduce it down all the way to idiot speak.

  “Your mother, like us, wasn’t really… human,” Nell said, finally. “She was… more like Trill here.”

  I made a face. I’d been six when my mother disappeared, but I could remember she wasn’t gray and clammy and seaweedy. She’d been beautiful. And what did they mean, not human? Fine, Trill was obviously not human, but my mom was obviously not like her, ergo my mom was not not human. Yes, I minored in rhetoric.

  “Well, not really,” Trill interrupted. “I’m a kelpie. Your mom’s a selkie. We’re pretty different.”

  Oh, I thought, frustrated to the point of screaming. Of course! I finally met people who claimed to know something about my mother and they insisted on speaking in riddles.

  “From the beginning, please,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Nell took over, the voice of reason. “Kelpies,” she explained, in her professorial manner, “are two-formed, as are selkies. They have a human, or in the case of kelpies, a humanoid form and an animal form. Trill, here, changes into a sort of sea-pony. Your mother was a selkie; her other form is that of a seal.”

  Oh shit, I thought. I’d seen The Secret of Roan Inish. If what this little person is saying is true, so much would be explained…

  The thought that I’d finally have my mother’s desertion made understandable pulled at my heart, but then the weight of reality crushed my hopes. How could I have been such an idiot to get sucked into this shit?

  “Okay, that’s enough,” I said. “I’m sure that Linda, or Stuart, or whoever, paid you good money to come down here and make me look like an idiot. I’m sure they gave you a great excuse for hurting me by telling you what a monster I am, and how I deserve this sort of treatment. And they’re right. But I can’t be hurt anymore. I’ve been hurt as bad as I’m gonna get, and nothing you or they can do will ever be as painful to me as losing Jason. So, just take your fake fangs off your dog, wash off the makeup, and go back to your circus. And don’t forget your big light. I’d like my cove put back the way it was, not that I’ll ever use it again.”

  I started to get up, my already-cramping legs wobbly, but I registered with more than a little pride the stunned expressions that “Trill” and “Nell” were exchanging.

  My momma may have walked out on us, but she didn’t nearly halfway raise no fools, I thought smugly.

  But that thought, along with my very slow upward momentum, was cut short as the air around Trill began to shimmer. An iridescent bubble the same color as her skin but more transparent encircled her. It looked like it was made of energy and it pulsated slightly, just like the light above Nell’s head. Underneath the surface of the ball something was happening that looked like the shadowy development of a fetus played in fast-forward.

  When the bubble popped, there stood a weird gray pony, with a seaweed mane and tail. Its small black hooves were the same color as Trill’s toenails, and Trill’s muddy brown eyes were staring out at me from the pony’s face. I could see the faintest hint of gills ribbing the beast’s short neck.

  I’d never fainted before today, but I had the distinct impression I was going to make it a two-for-one deal here in the hysterical woman department.

  Anyan had crept closer, maybe to keep me from running if I had actually made it upright or maybe to break my fall if I fainted again. Whatever the reason, I was grateful when the hand I put out to steady myself met with a solidly muscled, very furry, and surprisingly high shoulder. The dog’s broad back came up to well over my waist. I was only five foot one, but that was still a whole lotta dog.

  I sat back down, heavily, and Anyan parked himself next to me, propping me up. I watched, deliriously, as the bubble once more extended out from Trill and, with another pop, she was humanish again.

  Unless Stuart’s or Linda’s plot involved slipping me hallucinogens or plugging me into some Matrix-style virtual reality computer program, what was happening before me was real. I felt a chill of fear work its way down my spine as I took more than my fair share of deep breaths.

  Okay, Jane, I told myself firmly, get a grip. Whatever these things are, hellhound here could have killed you at any point and he hasn’t, so you have to assume they want you alive. And you may not like what they have to say, but they’re going to tell you about your mother. This thought seemed to fortify me, and so I homed in on it. For the first time in your life, someone is going to tell you the truth about your own mother. I got my breathing under control, and if I didn’t feel fantastic, I did feel like I could face what was happening.

  Anyan’s soft tongue grazed my cheek and I couldn’t help but smile at him. It’s funny how sensitive dogs are to people’s moods. You’d think he understood how hard this was for me.

  “All right,” I said, looking Nell in the eye and trying to avoid looking at Trill. After her little performance, if I looked at Trill I’d need more than just a few deep breaths. Maybe a few deep breaths alongside of a few shots of Jack Daniels. “You’ve made your point. You’re not… human. And you weren’t sent by anybody to fool me. So what are you, and why are you here? What do you have to do with me and my family?”

  My voice sounded strong. I was proud of myself.

  Nell, damn her, was still beaming away like the figure on a syrup bottle. “You’re taking this very well, Jane,” she said, and I only just managed to keep from giving her the finger. “As I was saying, your mother is a selkie: a two-formed who can take either the shape of a seal or the shape of a human. But she’s not really human or seal; she is, for want of a better human word, supernatural.”

  I grunted. It wasn’t particularly erudite, but it was all I could manage to summarize the maelstrom of emotions flooding through me. On the one hand, I wanted to scream that none of this was true. That my mother wasn’t some monster from legends. Despite that loud, angry voice, there was another whispering echo, more profound for its restraint, that acknowledged that what Nell said made sense.

  My memories of my mother—the swimming, her happiness in the water, the way she plunged me into the ocean as if she were taking me home—weren’t normal memories. They weren’t natural, at least not by human standards.

  Supernatural, I thought, letting my mind sink into the curves of the word. I was surprised to discover it felt good. Or, maybe it just felt like something where once there had been nothing.

  “Supernatural creatures are all around you, and have been throughout history, as you can tell from the impact we’ve had on human myths and legends. You know us, all of us, but not necessarily in our true forms. For example, I’m a gnome. Humans have made us into little clay sculptures that protect their gardens. That’s not entirely false. We gnomes are earthbound and we protect our territories to the death—usually the death of the intruder. Selkies, like your mother, are known in stories throughout the world. But they don’t shed their skin, nor are they the captive of whoever steals their skin. They come of their own free will to mort
al men and women, usually with the intention of begetting a child.” Here, Nell paused, and I could see she spoke her next few sentences with some discomfort despite the fact that she never stopped smiling. “We supernaturals find it difficult to… procreate successfully with each other, but we seem to have fewer problems when we liaise with humans. You, Jane, are the result of one such union.”

  I was trying not to look too scornful of her words, but this was ridiculous. I was Jane True from Rockabill, Maine. I was not the half-supernatural love child of a seal woman and a mortal man. If I was, surely I’d be taller… more statuesque.

  Eyeballing Nell, however, I realized that was an entirely illogical train of thought.

  I also thought about how my mother had appeared, out of the middle of nowhere, and how she’d disappeared as mysteriously. I again thought about my swimming, and my tolerance for cold. I shivered, a knot in my throat, as my still-resistant brain slowly started to accept that this woman might be telling the truth.

  “We’ve been watching over you since your mother left. She had to return to the sea, and you did not inherit her two-formed nature, so she was forced to leave you behind. If you had been almost entirely human, we would have let you live out your life without revealing ourselves to you. But your power is strong, and we would have come to you when you were more mature. Your actions the other night, however, made our meeting more precipitate.”

  My power? I thought, confused. “What did I do?”

  Nell’s smile faltered. “The body you found in the sea was a halfling, like yourself. Part supernatural and part human. Peter Jakes was apparently in the service of… of some very powerful beings. His presence here in these parts appears to have been on their orders. His murder needs to be investigated by our community and, as the person who found the body, you must be interviewed as part of that investigation.”

  This was far more prosaic a reason for “first contact” than I had expected, and also rather galling.

  My irritation came through in my voice. “So, if I hadn’t been the one to find Peter’s body, you guys would have just let me bumble along for a few more years, not knowing who—or what—I was? I’m twenty-six years old; would you have told me before or after I was retirement age?”

  Nell’s smile returned, full blast. “Child, and you are yet a child to me, human years mean nothing to us. Nor will they mean much to you. Your manipulation of the elements is strong; although you are not two-formed, your mother’s powers are as potent in you as if you were. Age will not affect you as it does humans. You have only lived for the briefest moment of the life stretching before you.”

  I could tell Nell thought this was supposed to be good news, but my whole being rebelled at what she was saying.

  “Look, you’re crazy. I’ve been in the hospital. And I mean I’ve really been in the hospital. I’ve had about every test done to me that can be done, and nothing ever came out saying, ‘Oh, good heart and lungs coupled with seal blood means she’ll live forever.’ This is crazy. I can’t live forever; I don’t want to live forever. My life sucks enough as it is…” In saying these last words the true horror of what Nell had so blithely told me began to descend upon me. Would entire generations of Rockabillians know me as Crazy Jane?

  At least you’ll get your chance to dance on Stuart’s and Linda’s graves, my brain chipped in, unhelpfully.

  Nell interrupted my malicious fantasies. “Don’t worry, child,” she said. “You won’t live forever. Just a long time. And you’re certainly not immortal; you can be killed. But human concerns—such as years, age, birthdays, and the like—will cease to mean much to you after a few centuries.”

  “Oh, great. I’m sure they will,” I said, sarcastically. “Right around the time I go mental with loneliness from living in my recluse shack where no one can find the lady who doesn’t die. That’s going to be a great life. Maybe I should invest in the property market now, while it’s on the downturn? I wonder what a hermit’s cave is going for these days. I’ll obviously only need the one bedroom.”

  Nell shook her head. “You won’t be alone, child.” With these words she looked me full in the face, all traces of her smile gone. “Your life has only just begun.”

  I didn’t know whether her words were a promise or a warning. Or both.

  I watched, mute, as she climbed down from her rocking chair. She wrapped it up inside the quilt and laid her little bundle over Trill’s back. Disconcertingly, the kelpie had turned back into a pony and I hadn’t even noticed.

  “Take a swim, Jane,” she said. “You need it. Recharge your batteries. Tomorrow, an investigator will be in touch. Jakes was important, although I don’t know why, and events are moving quickly. I don’t know who they will send, but expect someone. And don’t worry, we will be here to answer your questions. There is no hurry. You are in my territory.”

  As Nell said those final words the air crackled around her with energy, and I suspect she had granted me the merest glimpse of the power that lay within her plump little form.

  Before I could protest, she was trundling along beside the pearly gray pony as they walked toward the solid face of the rock wall… and disappeared. Nell took her light with her, and it took my eyes a minute to adjust to the soft glimmering of the night sky.

  I sat in silence, absently scratching at a furry belly. With a start I realized that at some point during Nell’s Revelation Hour I’d thrown an arm around Anyan and was scratching away at his densely haired hide distractedly. For his part, he didn’t look like he minded.

  I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around everything I had learned tonight. It made no sense, yet it made every sense. And Nell’s words, if I was honest, scared the shit out of me. I may have hated the fact that I had been so defined by the events of my life; how I was trapped in a place that never let me be anything but one version of what they wanted to see. But I also knew my role, my place. There were no questions or insecurities about what I’d do, day to day. Suddenly, everything had changed. And I couldn’t begin to understand how.

  Part of me, however, was quite certain that I’d wake up tomorrow and realize it had been a dream. But for right now, Nell was right. I needed a swim the way Joel Irving, our town drunk, needed that first shot of vodka in his morning coffee.

  I stood up, stretching my still-aching legs. I was going to feel tonight’s run something awful tomorrow morning. I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my jeans and socks. I was just starting to pull my shirt over my head when I realized that Anyan had slipped away. I let my shirt fall and turned around to find him looking back at me as he headed toward the breach in the cove walls.

  No teleporting for the pooch, I thought, smiling, as I pulled my shirt over my head. Anyan jerked his head around so quickly he smacked his muzzle against the break’s rough walls. My head throbbed in sympathy.

  That is one odd dog, I thought, as I pulled off my bra and panties and ran toward the ocean, plunging in gratefully.

  And what exactly had Nell meant when she said he’d told her all about me?