The Selkie of San Francisco
Page 1
BOOKS BY TODD CALGI GALLICANO
SAM LONDON ADVENTURES
Guardians of the Gryphon’s Claw
The Selkie of San Francisco
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2018 by Todd Calgi Gallicano
Cover art and interior illustrations copyright © 2018 by Kevin Keele
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
Visit us on the Web! rhcbooks.com
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Name: Gallicano, Todd Calgi, author.
Title: The selkie of San Francisco / Todd Calgi Gallicano.
Description: First edition. | New York : Delacorte Books for Young Readers, 2018. | Series: A Sam London adventure ; 2 | Summary: “When a selkie appears in the San Francisco Bay, Sam London and the guardian Tashi are summoned by Dr. Vance Vantana of the Department of Mythical Wildlife to help track the creature down. Except unbeknownst to them, other forces are at work and the secret that mythical creatures exist and live amongst humans is in even bigger danger than ever before” — Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017039046 (print) | LCCN 2017050295 (ebook) | ISBN 978-1-5247-1371-3 (el) | ISBN 978-1-5247-1369-0 (hardback)
Subjects: | CYAC: Selkies—Fiction. | Animals, Mythical—Fiction. | National parks and reserves—Fiction. | Supernatural—Fiction. | San Francisco Bay (Calif.)—Fiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Action & Adventure / General. | JUVENILE FICTION / Legends, Myths, Fables / General. | JUVENILE FICTION / Fantasy & Magic.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.G3478 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.1.G3478 Sel 2018 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23
Ebook ISBN 9781524713713
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
v5.3.1
ep
Contents
Cover
Books by Todd Calgi Gallicano
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter 1: Stuck in the Middle
Chapter 2: An Old Friend
Chapter 3: Seal of Approval
Chapter 4: Case, Interrupted
Chapter 5: Pearl Eklund
Chapter 6: Murphy’s Flaw
Chapter 7: Princess Iaira
Chapter 8: The City That Never Stops
Chapter 9: The Escape
Chapter 10: Blood Falls
Chapter 11: Swimming Upstream
Chapter 12: Maker of Gems
Chapter 13: Ta Cathair
Chapter 14: The Seahorse 5000
Chapter 15: Fire Ice
Chapter 16: The Finfolk
Chapter 17: Into the Cave
Chapter 18: The Maiden Council
Chapter 19: Never Say Goodbye
Chapter 20: Case Closed?
Epilogue
Glossary of Mythical Creatures
DMW File Classification
Parks to Visit
Acknowledgments
About the Author
For Mongo and the kiddo
The following account is based on a case file that originated with the Department of Mythical Wildlife (DMW). In an effort to inform the public of this previously unknown government agency, my sources have provided me with copies of files from the DMW archives. As far as I can determine, “The Selkie of San Francisco” is the department’s second case involving Sam London.
DMW case files consist of witness interviews, investigative notes, research materials, and reports offering comprehensive explanations of the events that transpired. Due to the often dry, fact-laden nature of this information, I have created a dramatic interpretation of the file’s contents. All the details have been maintained, but the narrative has been enhanced for the reader’s enjoyment. I have also included several references to the source material within the text and have appended a legend of abbreviations, codes, and terms to assist in decoding the DMW’s distinct classification system.
Since these files are classified, dates have been omitted and some names have been altered to protect the identities of witnesses and individuals still in the department’s employ.
—T.C.G.
Lynnae of Russia’s Lake Baikal had never seen a production of Swan Lake, but she felt a special kinship to the classic ballet created by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky in the late nineteenth century. In fact, she possessed a small advertisement for its famous 1964 London staging, which featured legendary dancers Rudolf Nureyev and Margot Fonteyn de Arias. She’d found the crinkled-up vintage poster on the shore of her home, a hidden inlet on the world’s oldest lake. Likely left behind by a ballet-loving vacationer, Lynnae surmised. She often imagined living out the tale—particularly the part where the character finds her one true love. That was her favorite part of all. Lynnae had been told the fable as a child, and although she had never heard how it ended, she assumed the maiden and her prince lived happily ever after. Unfortunately, Lynnae would never have the chance to experience a love like this, since she was forbidden to interact with humans, or any creatures, for that matter. Lynnae was a swan maiden and was destined to live her life separated from the world that lay beyond the lake.
It was for this reason that it came as quite a shock when word spread that an outsider had arrived to speak to the Maiden Council—the maternal protectors of the swan maidens. Lynnae couldn’t help entertaining the notion that this stranger would gaze upon her and fall madly in love, just like in Swan Lake. The possibility was too tantalizing to ignore, so Lynnae and two other curious maidens scurried off to the council’s gathering spot to catch a glimpse of their unexpected guest.
“Do you think it’s a human man?” Lynnae wondered aloud to her cohorts. They gasped, as if such a thought were unimaginable. Lynnae had to admit that it was highly unlikely. The council had established a boundary, which was guarded by the fearsome Baba Yaga, a forest-dwelling hag with supernatural powers and a penchant for devouring the souls of trespassers. She was under strict rules to never allow a human to pass, especially a male human.
When Lynnae arrived at the meeting place, she and her sisters hid behind a bushy row of blue-berried honeysuckle. They spied not one but two strangers standing in the clearing. The taller one was a monstrous creature, large in stature, with green skin, and antlers that sprouted from his head like bony vines. The other stranger was a woman with long, pitch-black hair who was dressed in a flowing white robe. She was stunningly beautiful but grim in her expression.
Lynnae watched as nine swans floated toward the shore. The long-necked, water-dwelling birds had orange bills and snow-white-feathered plumage. As these majestic creatures approached, they transformed in unison. Unlike Lynnae and her fellow maidens, who took on human forms for their work in the sanctuary, the Maiden Council always retained several aspects of their swan form, including their w
ings, which they kept tucked behind their bodies; a head of white feathers in place of their hair; and orange eyes with beady black pupils. The rest of their bodies were feathered, except their arms, faces, and necks, which were covered in skin that was as delicate as gossamer and shimmered when the glow of the moon reflected on the water’s surface, like it did this night.
Uravasi, Caer, Melusine, Manto, Sibyl, Undine, Palatina, Melior, and Faye appeared calm and, as always, were radiant. For Lynnae, it was like having nine mothers. Though each was unique in personality and style, they all cared deeply for her and her sister maidens. The nine took up a position a few feet from the lake’s edge in waist-deep water. The ever-curious Uravasi was the first to speak.
“This is an unexpected visit, Cernunnos,” she said in a wispy, angelic voice.
“Lord Cernunnos,” the dour woman corrected her. The nine maidens exchanged irritated glances; then the formal Melusine spoke matter-of-factly.
“Such titles are not honored by the Maiden Council. If this recognition is the reason for your visit, you may leave.” And with that, the maidens began to recede into the waters.
“Phylassos has betrayed you!” the horned creature bellowed, his deep voice echoing throughout the inlet. The maidens paused. Sibyl, the most learned of the council, eyed the two discerningly.
“There are whispers that you are the creature who betrayed the gryphon, with the cynocephalus called Chase,” she said with authority.
“If you heard these whispers, did you not also hear of the boy?” Cernunnos asked.
“Boy?” the formidable Faye replied inquisitively.
Cernunnos nodded. “Sam London. He was with the human Vantana. The gryphon appeared to Sam. The boy was the one who helped save the gryphon’s claw.”
“This would be a violation,” Palatina, the chief maiden, observed. Cernunnos nodded once in agreement. The maidens turned toward each other and whispered fervently. Lynnae reflexively leaned forward to try to discern their hushed murmurings, but in so doing caused an ever-so-slight rustling of the bush that was helping to conceal her. The noise did not go unnoticed. The female stranger spun her head in Lynnae’s direction.
“Are your maidens spies as well as swans?” she sneered.
The nine maidens of the council looked to the honeysuckle as Lynnae and her cohorts made haste back to their dens. Lynnae hoped she had not been identified by her mother maidens, but she prayed the punishment would be mild if she had. She hurriedly settled into her nest, which glittered with specks of the bioluminescent fungus known as foxfire. She tried to think of excuses she could give for her eavesdropping, but she couldn’t stop wondering about what she had heard.
Whoever this Sam London was, he was known by the nine, Lynnae concluded. Yet his existence had also appeared to be a surprise to the council. Who was this boy, and why did he so concern her mothers? When Lynnae heard Caer approach, she slipped her Swan Lake poster beneath the twinkling foxfire-laden tree limb and pretended to be asleep. Avoiding the disciplinary maiden’s wrath was more important to Lynnae than satisfying her curiosity. These questions, like so many others she collected over the years, would simply have to go unanswered.
Twelve-year-old Sam London believed the term “middle school” described the grades between elementary school and high school perfectly. These were transformative years that saw students grow from playful children into rebellious teenagers. Of course, in school, as in life, being in the middle of anything was never all that comfortable. In the middle meant you were neither getting started nor about to finish. You were trapped between two stages of life—old enough to know better, yet too young to be trusted with major responsibilities.
But for Sam London, middle school had taken on a whole new level of discomfort. Maybe it was all the fantastical things he had experienced just weeks earlier on his adventure to save the gryphon’s claw. Perhaps it was the now-constant presence of the Guardian Tashi, who attended school with Sam and acted as his secret bodyguard. Maybe it was that Sam’s new pet/companion was a shape-shifting raccoon-dog named Nuks who masqueraded as Sam whenever needed. Or it could be the fact that Sam’s new teacher was an old friend reincarnated as a human being without any knowledge of his previous life as a mythical dog-man. Point being, life had recently been pretty exciting for Sam London, and now it was anything but.
School, homework, sleep, became wash, rinse, repeat. It was Sam’s routine, day in and day out. He did have a small semblance of a social life in the form of birthday parties he was invited to or random activities his mom enrolled him in. As for simply hanging out with the boys, Sam had never been the type to have a large circle of friends to play video games with or just shoot hoops. Sam had classmates but no best friends. Most of the kids thought he was an odd duck, including the other odd ducks.
Sam’s mom, Odette London—or Ettie, as people called her—was always encouraging Sam to make friends, and he had made a few lackluster attempts in the past. However, if making friends had been difficult for Sam before his adventure with Dr. Vance Vantana, now it seemed nearly impossible. How could he be friends with someone and not share the life-changing truth that mythical creatures are real and living among us, but a centuries-old gryphon’s curse renders them invisible to human eyes? How could he relate to someone who didn’t—and couldn’t—know anything about this secret? This was why he hung out with Tashi so much, besides the fact that she rarely, if ever, left his side; after all, she had been sworn to protect his life with her own and was steadfastly committed to the cause. But at least she knew the truth and Sam didn’t have to be so careful with his words around her. And besides, Sam’s focus was not on friend-making; rather, it was on preparing for his next case.
Since returning from his first adventure, Sam woke up every day with an anxious excitement that today would be the day when he’d be called on to help the Department of Mythical Wildlife with a new investigation. In the days that followed, Sam started watching the news and scouring the internet for any hint of a potential assignment or any sign of the world that he knew existed, but he consistently came up empty. The secret remained quite secret. Of course, there were dozens of internet sites devoted to cryptids—creatures and plants that the scientific community didn’t recognize as real. And there was even a television show that followed the exploits of Boone “the Wildman” Walker, a self-described monster hunter who traveled the world seeking proof of the existence of legendary creatures, but never found any evidence. As for the individuals who claimed to have seen bigfoot or a chupacabra, Sam figured they either had mythical DNA and didn’t know it or their eyes were just playing tricks on them. So without any indication of recent sightings and no communication from Dr. Vantana, Sam had reluctantly settled into his humdrum life and started to quietly wonder if the call would ever come.
* * *
—
It was a Friday in spring when things finally changed. Sam awoke to find Nuks missing from his bed. A moment later, the raccoon-dog entered the room in Sam’s form. It was still an odd feeling for Sam to stare at a duplicate of himself. He imagined it was similar to what twins experienced.
“Why are you—” Sam started, finding it strange that Nuks would be up and posing as Sam this early on a school day.
“Your mom is cleaning the house,” Nuks explained, interrupting. “I thought I would help and that would help you.”
“You don’t have to do that, you know?” Sam said. “It’s not your responsibility. Next time check with me.”
“Oh yes. Yes, of course. I’m very sorry, Sam. So sorry,” Nuks replied, instantly unnerved and jittery. Sam noticed.
“Nuks, you gotta stop freaking out whenever I tell you something,” he told the raccoon-dog in his most pleasant tone. “I’m not going to send you away, okay? You’ll always have a home here. Always.” Nuks softened and smiled.
Sam found himself having to constantly remind the creat
ure that he wasn’t going to abandon him over the slightest slipup. Nuks adored having a family and a roof over his head, and he would do anything to keep it that way. Normally, a shape-shifting raccoon-dog was prohibited from passing itself off as a human’s pet, but Nuks had found a loophole and had become the envy of his kind.
In return, Nuks had grown into a loyal, trusted friend for Sam. The best part was he never complained and was eager to follow Sam’s lead. In fact, when Ettie wanted Sam to do an activity he dreaded, Sam would send Nuks in his place—in Sam’s form, of course. Tashi was critical of this, as she believed Sam was taking advantage of the creature’s natural desire to please. But Nuks genuinely loved the opportunity to discover new things. Over the past few weeks, he had learned about the origins of folk music, taken a beginner’s ballet class, done some woodworking, and even gone geocaching. The latter activity had proven problematic, as Nuks consistently relied on his nose to sniff out the hidden caches, instead of using the GPS device. This led to an awkward exchange between Ettie and the leader of the geocaching day camp, who was concerned about Sam’s mental state but also wildly impressed with his canine-like olfactory senses.
“There’s a bag of granola in my desk—help yourself,” Sam offered to Nuks as a reward for his cleaning. The creature grinned broadly and walked toward the desk, but Sam put his hand up. “Not as me…”
“Oh, right. Of course,” Nuks responded, transforming hurriedly back into his natural form and scurrying the rest of the way to the waiting granola.
Sam eyed the door to his room with trepidation. If his mom was up early cleaning the house, it could mean only one thing: Ettie’s famous “spring thing.” It was an annual tradition Sam dreaded, when his mom would clean the house from top to bottom. She became a tornado of tidiness, and Sam would inevitably get sucked into the storm. Although he didn’t despise cleaning, he had developed a love-hate relationship with the “spring thing” because of a rule Ettie had instituted that said if something hadn’t been used in three years, it was relegated to the donation pile. Sam was an unabashed pack rat and loathed this rule.