by H. K. Varian
There was a series of popping sounds, followed by more billowing clouds of smoke.
Darren flapped his wings, trying to clear away the air so he could see what was happening below.
Give me the big picture, Gabriella’s voice rang through Darren’s head. Who’s coming at me?
There were five witches and warlocks, not including Jasper, Darren thought. There’s one warlock crouching behind that red car; I think the others are gone. But Jasper . . . I can’t see through the smoke. Be careful . . .
Even from above, Darren could hear Gabriella’s menacing growl as she crouched low to the ground. He clicked his talons together, generating a tornado of blazing sparks. If Gabriella needed backup, Darren would be ready to blast her attacker with a lightning bolt.
Not that she’ll need it, he thought.
A motion down the street caught his eye. Someone—something—was moving fast. A black blur . . .
Darren was ready to attack when he realized that the dark blur wasn’t a warlock at all.
It was Gabriella’s aunt, charging forward in her nahual form.
Darren sucked in his breath sharply. He’d never seen two nahuals together before. Gabriella and her aunt were creatures of unspeakable power.
The one remaining warlock certainly thought so. There was another puff of smoke, and then—just like that—he was gone.
What happened? Ms. Rivera’s words ricocheted through Darren’s mind as he threw a lightning bolt.
It’s Jasper. He’s here, Gabriella replied.
As if he’d heard his name, Jasper seemed to appear from the last traces of smoke. His thin, colorless lips parted in an oily smile. “Rosa! How good to see you,” he sneered. “I’m not much of a cat person, but I’ll make an exception for someone so super.”
The roar that escaped from Ms. Rivera’s throat was loud enough to rip the world apart. Jasper’s arrogant smirk faltered for a moment. Was that fear in his eyes?
Darren saw Jasper’s wormy lips begin to move; he was mumbling something under his breath. . . .
Tía Rosa, Gabriella thought. What’s happening?
Darren watched in horror as Gabriella’s fur began to fade to a dull gray. The same thing happened to her aunt.
A curse! Darren thought frantically.
His talons scratched against one another as he started forming another lightning bolt, putting all his anger into the work. Darren didn’t have time to second-guess it. He aimed squarely at Jasper and threw it. With nimble speed Jasper stepped aside just in time to avoid a direct hit, but the bolt sliced through the edge of his sleeve, leaving a smoking tear in its wake.
In that moment Jasper was distracted just long enough for Ms. Rivera to lunge. Her claws flashed in the sunlight, there was a horrible rip—not cloth this time, something thicker and more substantial . . .
A splatter of blood arced through the air.
More smoke billowed around them.
Then an unexpected calm settled over the street.
Darren flew down to the ground, transforming in midflight. By the time he landed, Gabriella and Ms. Rivera were in their human forms again too.
Gabriella’s aunt scrambled to pick up Mack, who was lying still on the sidewalk. She lifted him into her arms as though he was weightless, and just in time: The street unfroze, and all the people began to move, like nothing unusual had ever happened.
“Is he—” Darren could barely say the words.
“No,” Ms. Rivera said. “He’s alive. But I’ve never seen a curse like this. We need to get him back to Akira, now.”
Ms. Rivera rushed back to the car and buckled Mack, upright, into the backseat. Darren jumped in beside him while Gabriella and her aunt settled in up front.
“They snuck up on us,” Darren whispered as he looked over at Mack.
“It was so fast,” Gabriella said, her hand over her heart as she tried to take a steadying breath. “So fast.”
Ms. Rivera started the car, and Darren tried not to watch the speedometer as the needle crept up past forty, fifty, even sixty miles an hour. It wasn’t Ms. Rivera’s speeding that bothered him.
It was that she thought driving so fast was necessary.
Darren’s stomach lurched when they arrived at Mack’s house and parked, knowing that they were about to break the terrible news to Mr. Kimura. Darren glanced at Gabriella out of the corner of his eye. Was it like this for everybody else when the warlocks took me? he wondered.
Ms. Rivera, getting out of the car and carrying Mack, pushed past Darren and kicked on the door loudly.
Mr. Kimura opened it, the look of calm melting off his face. His shoulders sagged as he rushed them indoors.
They crowded into the front hallway, and Yara poked her head out of the kitchen. “Thank goodness you’re back,” she began. “If I never see another pot of tea . . .”
Her voice trailed off unexpectedly as she noticed Mack. “What happened?” she asked.
“Not here,” Mr. Kimura said quietly.
As they hurried down the hall, Darren caught a glimpse of the living room, which was crowded with Changers he’d never seen before. Wow. Mack wasn’t kidding, he thought, and felt another twinge of guilt. If we hadn’t come over. If Mack had stayed home to help his grandfather. . . .
When the rice-paper doors to Mack’s room were closed behind them, Ms. Rivera began to speak. “Warlocks. Five of them at least, and Jasper, too. They must have been following us, though they were good enough that even I couldn’t sense their presence. They cursed all of Market Street—an immobility curse, I think, or some sort of time freeze—and struck the younglings. Cowards, all of them, but that’s no surprise.”
As Ms. Rivera laid Mack on his bed, Darren looked up, expecting to see Mr. Kimura’s eyes flashing with fury. What he actually saw there, though—a mixture of despair and grief—was about a thousand times worse.
“It’s clear to me why they targeted Mack,” she continued. “They’re afraid of his abilities, of course. They know this will strike a blow to us.”
Mr. Kimura and Yara didn’t look comforted by Ms. Rivera’s theory. “That’s only part of it,” Yara confessed. “There are other reasons why Auden Ironbound would want to take down Mack. Frankly, I’d be surprised if he was the only target.”
Darren’s head shot back. “You think they were trying to get us, too?” he asked, gesturing at Gabriella and himself.
“Fiona had a theory,” Gabriella began. “She thought— Well, she thought we were stronger when we were together. Is that even possible, though?”
Mr. Kimura nodded slowly. “Fiona was right, but there is more to it. Far more,” he explained. “Yara, if you would take Rosa, Gabriella, and Darren into my study. I need quiet to determine what kind of curse this is.”
Darren snuck one last look at Mack before turning to follow Yara. When she closed the screen behind them, she brought them in close.
“Mack will be all right,” Yara said, trying to cheer them. “Akira has yet to find a curse he can’t undo.”
Then her mouth turned upward into a slight grin. “Sefu and Dorina will be quite the picture when they hear we’ve told you this. We were waiting until you were a bit further along in your training, but time is short, and our hope is growing dimmer. . . .” Her voice trailed off. “A few hundred years ago a prophecy was delivered to us. It foretold the next generation of leadership for Changer-kind.”
Darren and Gabriella exchanged a puzzled glance. “What did it say?” asked Darren.
“The exact words I cannot recall, but it led us to you. You see, it is no coincidence that the four of you are here, in Willow Cove, coming of age together. It was foretold long before any of you were born. That’s why Dorina is teaching you. It’s why all of the First Four are so closely involved in your training. Our time has begun to dwindle, but yours is dawning.”
“So you think . . . ,” Darren wondered aloud. “Us working together . . . Is that why we were able to beat Auden before?”
“Certainly. It’s part of why he has had such a keen interest in you,” Yara responded. “He desires to eliminate you, one by one, before the battle even begins.”
“But why?” Gabriella burst out. “We’re not even fully trained yet.”
A crinkled half smile filled Yara’s face. “We have been able to hold off threats like him all these years,” she explained. “But you . . . Your rise will usher in a new era of peace. We have never known peace, not true peace, since the Horn of Power was first blown some thousand years ago. Auden is not wrong to fear you.”
A long silence followed. Darren could tell he wasn’t the only one who felt totally overwhelmed by this news. Gabriella’s dark eyes were swimming with unasked questions too.
Then he turned to Yara. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but you can’t leave it like this,” he told her. “What is this prophecy, exactly? Who foretold it? What if it’s all a fake, or some terrible joke—”
“What if it’s not even real?” Gabriella broke in.
“Don’t we have a right to know?” added Darren.
Yara waited patiently until they finished. Then she said, “Of course you do. And you will know—everything. Provided we survive the next twenty-four hours.”
Chapter 9
The Council of Elders
When Fiona and her mother returned from the other side of the island, the sun had begun its descent, casting long, mysterious shadows across the sand. Glowing conch shells, no doubt lit with magic, dotted the shore, marking a path that led to the open mouth of the cave. One of the selkies hurried up to them, sweeping into a low curtsy as she approached. “Your Majesty,” she said.
“You may rise, Una,” Mom said.
Una stood and carefully adjusted Mom’s tiara and then added heavy ropes of pearls around her neck. With her gleaming selkie cloak, Mom looked more regal and elegant than Fiona ever could’ve imagined.
“Your advisers have arrived,” Una said. “The council awaits your presence.”
“Very good,” Mom replied. “I will be there directly.”
“If I may, Your Majesty,” Una began. “It might be preferable for Princess Fiona to wait for you outside. I would be honored to attend to her while you are occupied.”
Princess? Fiona thought, trying not to laugh.
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Mom told her. “This is Fiona’s birthright. It is never too early for her to study at the table of diplomacy or to learn the ways of our council.”
Una’s eyes flickered with worry. “But—”
“She has every right to be there,” Mom said firmly.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Una replied. “Of course. I beg your pardon.”
With Mom’s arm across her shoulders, Fiona walked up the conch-lit path toward the cave. Inside, the cavern blazed with hundreds of burning torches, but even they weren’t enough to completely chase away the darkness and the damp. In the center of the cave was a long, low table made out of driftwood that had been lashed together with thick cords of rope. Sailor’s knots, Fiona thought briefly, then shifted her focus to Mom. She swept through the room with her head held high; her copper hair gleamed like a sunset-lit waterfall. There was a quiet murmur among the selkies as Mom passed; then, silence. It was obvious that all the selkies had a deep respect for their queen.
Mom took her place at the head of the table, where there was an ornate throne made of driftwood. Even among the high ceremony, Leana didn’t forget about her daughter. Mom smiled warmly at her as she gestured to a chair beside her. It was smaller and shorter than the other chairs at the table; Fiona had a feeling it had been added at the last minute, just for her.
Once Mom took her place at the head of the table, all the other selkies bowed their heads. Fiona did too—but she kept her eyes open, watching closely.
“Children of the sea, we gather here tonight as a council of selkies,” Mom said in a somber voice. “May the moon pull us to the correct conclusions; may the wind whisper wisdom in our ears; may the tides turn our hearts to justice in all matters that come before this council—tonight and for all time.”
“May it be,” the other selkies chorused.
“The timepiece,” Mom said, holding out her hand.
Una scurried forward, carrying an elaborate hourglass filled with pure-white sand. Mom took it, turned it upside down, and glanced at the parchment before her.
“Maeve,” she called.
A woman at the table with a sable-colored cloak stood up. “I present a petition from our sisters off the Irish coast,” she began. “Three islands are in dispute with the Changers, who claim these islands are within the one-league realm from shore, as decided in the Treaty of Fair Passage.”
“Are they?” Mom asked in an even voice.
Maeve fidgeted. “Well . . . ,” she began, “the islands have been in our possession since before the treaty was signed. Our sisters there feel that they should remain so under the provisions of clause seven, stating that previously settled lands should remain in the hands of their original inhabitants.”
A slight frown crossed Mom’s face. “Why is this issue coming before the council now?” she asked. “The treaty was signed a decade ago.”
“Well, ah, our Irish sisters weren’t, um, making use of the islands then,” Maeve said. “In fact, they were technically abandoned. But the land-Changers have overreached and begun a settlement. . . . Some sort of base, we believe. The islands are uniquely positioned for that because they are cloaked in mist much of the time, hiding them from human view.”
“Would you say that the land dwellers believed these islands to be deserted?” Mom asked.
Now Maeve looked really uncomfortable. “They left a marker,” she said awkwardly, “though it may have washed away. . . .”
Mom rolled the pearls from her necklace in her palms, deep in thought. “I have made my decision,” she said. “These islands were considered deserted under clause four of the treaty. They have thus passed into the hands of the Changers. Our Irish sisters will not lay further claim to them and will be more careful to exert their presence on any lands they wish to retain under their dominion.”
“May it be,” the selkies chorused as Mom turned the hourglass over.
“Erynn,” she said.
A wizened old selkie whose silver cloak matched the streaks in her hair rose to her feet. “I bring a petition from our people in Japan,” she began. “There is a dispute with the finfolk.”
Mom raised an eyebrow. “The mermaids again?” she asked. “Didn’t we hear this petition at our last council?”
“Yes, my queen,” Erynn replied. “But there have been escalations. The finfolk stole Yuri’s cloak and are holding it for ransom.”
Mom’s eyes were usually a beautiful shade of green, but hearing that news made them darken until they were the color of the sea under a stormy sky. “Have I heard you correctly?” she asked in a dangerously quiet voice. “They stole her cloak?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Mom’s verdict was swift and decisive. “I grant permission to attack,” she said. “They should use just as much force as necessary to retrieve the cloak and send a message—no more, no less.
“Furthermore, I summon Yuri to next month’s council. She should depart as soon as her cloak is returned,” Mom continued.
There was a collective gasp of surprise.
“I expect her to stand before us and explain how such a thing happened,” Mom said. “If I find out that this was part of a trap to lure the finfolk into an escalation—”
“I’m sure that’s not the case,” Erynn told Mom.
“Either way, the finfolk will pay,” Mom declared. “And in the future, I trust Yuri to be more careful with her cloak. We will not be so fast to start a war for her if it happens again.”
Mom turned the hourglass. “Now, we come to the main reason for our council: Auden Ironbound’s declaration of war. I trust you all heard his call to action.”
The selkies
around the table nodded.
“Then we must choose our course with great care,” Mom continued. “This decision is too large for me to make unilaterally. I want to hear what you think. The floor is open. All who wish to comment will have the opportunity to do so.”
“We cannot side with Auden Ironbound,” Erynn spoke up immediately. “We cannot even consider it.”
A chorus of agreement rose from the other selkies. Even Mom was nodding.
“I agree,” she said. “He used the Horn of Power against us, which is unforgivable. He who would have us enslaved can never be considered our ally. I hereby decree that any selkie who sides with Auden Ironbound shall be banished and his or her cloak destroyed.”
Wow, Fiona thought, her eyes wide with horror. That sounded like a punishment worse than death.
“The more complicated item of business is the Changers,” a selkie called Neely said. “They will go to war, I’m sure of it.”
“The First Four enjoy a good fight, so long as they don’t have to get their hands dirty,” Erynn said with a snide edge in her voice that made Fiona’s temper flare. She stayed silent, though, listening intently.
“To join with them would be nothing more than another form of enslavement!” a selkie—the only man at the table—said hotly. “Selkies are free and independent. We serve no one but ourselves!”
“We owe the Changers no allegiance,” another said with a contemptuous sniff. “They’re only after our songs.”
“Let me ask you this: Would any Changer in the world fight for us in a time of war?” still another selkie asked.
A collective grumble arose from the selkies gathered at the table. Their barely subdued anger took Fiona by surprise. They really don’t like the other Changers at all, she thought, feeling a pang of sadness. Fiona pictured the Changers she knew—Darren and Mack and Gabriella; the First Four. They had only ever treated her with kindness and respect. It was entirely different from the way the selkies spoke of them.
“I think we’ve heard from everyone,” Mom finally said. “Unless there are objections, I’m ready to issue a decree. At this time, we will remain neutral. This is not our war, and we will not be engaged to fight in it.”
