Kingdom of the Sea

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Kingdom of the Sea Page 4

by Isobel Robertson


  Horrified, Cormac staggered backwards, letting the water support him as he stumbled on the worn paving slabs. Lisbetta shuddered for a few seconds, then seemed to relax, swimming back over to Gunnar and nudging at his hand.

  “Try again,” Cormac urged, feeling a spark of hope. “Something happened! I felt it!”

  “And that something wasn’t good!” Gunnar snapped. “This is foolish. We should never have tried to break this sort of magic without having more information.”

  “We cannae just leave her like this. We have tae try again.”

  If memories weren’t enough, what else could force her back to her human form?

  “I know she was dragged back to the ocean,” he began. “So am I right in thinking the spell willnae let her back onto land?”

  Gunnar nodded.

  “But what about taking her up tae the surface?” Cormac asked. “Perhaps, once she’s out of the water even a wee bit, the change will be a lot easier. Mayhap that was the problem this time.”

  “I don’t know that it will work,” Gunnar said, his brow deeply furrowed. “It should make no difference. But, if she’s willing, I suppose one more try would be safe enough.”

  Lisbetta bounced in agreement, her whiskered face lighting up with more excitement than Cormac had seen since she arrived. How could he have been thinking only of himself, of what he wanted? She must be even more desperate for this spell to end, if only so she could communicate once again.

  No one followed them as they left the palace, and Cormac felt more relief than he had expected. He didn’t really doubt that Anja wanted to help her sister, but her coldness unsettled him.

  They emerged onto the surface of the water to find dawn breaking, faint golden light streaking over the horizon and turning the clouds a soft pink. It was a beautiful sight, although the cold of the water cut sharply through to Cormac’s bones. Whatever magic kept him alive in the water did not stop the discomfort. Besides, he had no time to focus on the beauty of the morning. He had to help Lisbetta.

  “Shall we try as before?” he asked Gunnar, who nodded. His face had not lost its worried expression.

  They moved back into their previous positions, Cormac treading water as he gently stroked Lisbetta’s smooth back. He felt Gunnar’s power flare up again, then his own link with Lisbetta burst back into life, although not as violently as before. Once again, he started to focus on memories of human Lisbetta. This time, the emotions did not flow through him quite so powerfully, but he still tried to focus hard on each memory, forcing the images and sounds into Lisbetta’s mind.

  She abruptly screeched, a high-pitched sound that Cormac had never heard before, and jerked away.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked her, reaching towards her. She pulled away from him and he froze, not sure what to do next. Their eyes met for a moment. And then she turned, darting away through the water. Cormac leaped after her, swimming as fast as he could, although she was quickly gaining the lead.

  She dove down beneath the water, and for a second he thought he’d lost her. But then a ship appeared on the horizon, still distant but headed towards him and he forgot the chase. The ship was drifting towards the heart of the selkie kingdom, moving slowly but surely. Cormac hovered in the water, gazing at the ship and feeling his heart thump as the fear grew.

  This was not just any ship. He would recognise this vessel anywhere.

  The Golden Lion.

  The ship sailed by Sigurd, Cormac’s one-time employer - and deadly enemy. After seven years of silence, it seemed that Sigurd had suddenly reappeared in Cormac’s life. It could not be coincidence. This magical mess with Lisbetta and Erlend went far deeper than he could ever have predicted.

  He felt his hand touch the cold metal hilt of the knife strapped to his belt, an unconscious gesture that did little to reassure him. He trod water, watching as two more ships appeared on the horizon. What could one man do against an entire fleet of pirates?

  Cormac found Lisbetta back in that same courtyard, once again with her dolphin friend. Could this be the same dolphin she had told him about, her childhood pet? How long did dolphins live for? One of the many strange questions he’d never asked himself before. He carefully lowered himself to sit on the steps leading down to the courtyard, feeling the water support him as he sank down to the ground. Surely this palace had indeed been built for humans; selkies had no need for steps.

  “We need tae break this spell,” he told Lisbetta.

  She turned to look at him, pain in her huge eyes. How could they fix this?

  “I need ye back, Lisbetta,” he said, realising that tears were pouring down his cheeks and mingling with the sea water. “How can I manage wi’out ye?” he asked. “How will our children manage? We need tae go home, back to our little house and the business, back to an ordinary life of cooking and fishing and drinking at the inn. We need tae see Moira, and Red. And the children. How will we get home tae our children?”

  Lisbetta nudged against him, rubbing herself up and down his arm. Did she truly understand everything he said? How much of his attempt to communicate really filtered through the spell? He fought back a flash of panic that the magic might be making her more and more like a seal. His wife was still in there, he knew it.

  Impossible or not, he had to act. He had to try.

  “What if you tried going onto land?” he asked Lisbetta. “I ken ye probably couldn’t stay before, and that’s what brought ye here, but what if we try again?”

  Lisbetta looked up at him, her eyes bright. She didn’t run away, and he took that as agreement, although there was no way to be sure.

  “Nothing to lose,” he told her. “Let’s go.”

  He set off, hoping no one would stop them. He beckoned to Lisbetta and she swam after him, the dolphin bouncing alongside her. What was its name? He shook the thought out of his head. Lisbetta would be able to tell him herself, soon enough.

  Cormac and Lisbetta had once spent a lot of time together. His favourite place to go with her had been the beach, especially in the evenings as the sun set over the water. After Rona was born, they had sometimes taken her with them, if the weather was fine, or Moira did not want to stay and care for her. Little Rona had taken her first steps in the surf, her parents laughing and encouraging her. But things had changed quickly after that. Had they ever made an evening trip to the beach with their sons? Cormac couldn’t remember. What a waste of so many years.

  Perhaps this spell would do them good, after all. Perhaps this was the signal Cormac had needed to renew his relationship with Lisbetta and start things over. After all, he already understood her far more deeply than he ever had before.

  “The Lady Lisbetta is not to leave the palace,” a voice announced in Cormac’s head as two guards stepped out to bar the gate with silvery spears. Cormac, Lisbetta and the dolphin all shuddered to a halt. Lisbetta looked at Cormac questioningly.

  “Ye are forbidding yer queen’s sister tae do whatever she likes?” Cormac asked.

  The guards looked a little nervous.

  “It is not safe for her to leave,” one said. “Especially not without an adequate guard. She should have selkie warriors with her.”

  “I dinnae have time for this,” Cormac muttered and pushed past the guards, swimming as hard as he could.

  They came after him, swimming alongside.

  “Please stop, sir,” one said, obviously reluctant to cause him any harm, but afraid to let him pass.

  Suddenly, a bolt of movement shot past Cormac, flying into the seaweed forest beyond. It was Lisbetta, moving faster than Cormac had thought possible. He jumped after her, pushing the guards out of the way, and sped into the deep seaweed. He could hear the guards behind him, thrashing through the weed, but it was too dark for them to see him. Where was Lisbetta? He paused for a second and closed his eyes, feeling for the faint link that connected them. Once he held it in his mind, he tugged gently. There. He set off after her, feeling his way along the magical thread. The guards were l
ong gone, no doubt blundering off in the wrong direction.

  Cormac kept tugging on the magical thread, drawing him out of the seaweed and through increasingly narrow rocky channels, deep cliffs rising up on each side. He kept well clear of the rocks, nervous of the sharp edges and vicious points. At last, he scrambled onto a black sandy beach, rocky points rising up around him. The thread gently faded away. What was this place? Cormac clambered to his feet, ignoring the painful tug that pulled him back towards the sea. This was a strange, unearthly place. And where was Lisbetta?

  As if his thoughts had summoned her, Lisbetta came wriggling up onto the sand, her graceful seal’s body suddenly plump and awkward on land. She pulled herself up towards him, and he couldn’t help but smile at her expression, which somehow managed to be irritated even with a seal’s features. She was still definitely his bad-tempered Lisbetta.

  But then she stopped, her expression quickly changing to one of horror. And then she started to scream, a high-pitched noise that sounded far too human. Cormac lunged towards her, but she was already rushing back towards the sea, thrashing and rolling as she wrestled with the pain. Cormac could feel it himself, building in his blood and urging him back into the water, that same force that had dragged him into the sea before.

  He fought it, grabbing at Lisbetta and wrapping his arms around her. She tried to get away, but he clutched onto her grimly, hanging on with everything he had.

  “Fight!” he screamed at her. “Fight the curse!”

  She just thrashed harder, throwing him off and hurling herself at the sea. He grabbed again, and this time he gripped her with his mind as well as his body, imagining that he held a sparkling golden net to wrap around her and bind her to him. He held her wriggling body tight against his and kissed her head, flooding her again with all the memories and love he could find, all mixed with a wild magic that he had never even imagined.

  At last, she calmed, the thrashing softening to a nervous shake, and the last of the screaming fading into a whimper. Cormac eased the hold of his arms around her and gazed down at her in wonder.

  Had he done it? Had he broken the spell? His eyes widened and his breathing quickened as he stared down at the seal in his arms.

  She looked back up at him with calm eyes, and he knew that something had changed. He could feel it himself, as well. Whatever strange pull had compelled them both to stay in the sea, it was now gone. They could return to land. But why had Lisbetta not changed back into her human form?

  “The curse is broken,” he told her in his most encouraging voice, excitement bubbling in his veins. “You just have to change back now. Will you try?”

  He watched her, wondering if she understood. It was difficult to tell. He closed his eyes and felt for their magical connection again, feeling gentle ripples flowing up and down. It seemed that she was trying.

  He opened his eyes again, and met Lisbetta’s gaze. Nothing had changed.

  Perhaps this magic was more complex and multi-layered than it seemed. This was no simple revenge curse; it was something deep and mysterious. If only Lisbetta could talk to him, help him puzzle this through. The last of the joy faded, leaving him more alone than ever before.

  “I love you,” he told her, but there was nothing she could say in response. She pressed herself against his hand, her whiskery face stroking his skin in a soft seal kiss.

  He sighed and eased himself back onto the sand, Lisbetta lying beside him as the sun broke through the clouds and warmed the frigid air. Cormac gazed at the sea, his fingers lightly brushing his wedding ring as he turned it over in his hands. He thought about magic.

  “I need to know what’s happened tae her,” Cormac said, taking a sip of whiskey from the strange bubble that held it. “But I dinnae ken where to start.”

  Gunnar nodded, frowning as he sipped his own whiskey.

  “I only wish that I could help you more than I have.”

  “Ye’re my only help,” Cormac said. “Dinnae abandon me now!”

  “This isn’t something I can help you solve,” Gunnar said, his face grave. He gently stroked a leaf of one of the many plants that filled his room. It was late evening, and even the witchlights had dimmed to a soft glow, casting strange, wavering shadows all across Gunnar’s strange chamber.

  “Ye must be able to help me in some way, surely.”

  Gunnar paused for a moment. There seemed to be some sort of argument inside his head.

  “I suggest that you learn more about selkie magic,” he said at last. “That may give you the help you need.”

  “What use is selkie magic to me? I’m nae selkie and I have nae magic. I cannae help Lisbetta myself. I need practical help, no’ books and stories.”

  Gunnar threw his head back and laughed. The sound did not carry underwater, but it cut into Cormac’s head with a jarring intensity.

  “You? No magic?” Gunnar said, once the laughter had subsided. “You have more than enough magic of your own. It leaks out of you like sweat from the skin.”

  The magician must be mad. Moira had magic, but Cormac was as normal as could be. Entirely human, entirely without magic.

  But the thought started to tingle in his mind. I am more like my sister than I realised…

  “Ye’re wrong,” he said stubbornly. “My sister is the only witch in our family, and God knows where her power came from.”

  “You can communicate through telepathy, breathe underwater, and connect magically to your wife, yet you believe you have no magic?” Gunnar asked, raising one eyebrow.

  “That’s Lisbetta’s magic, no’ mine,” Cormac said stubbornly. “Or this curse, whatever it is. Magic cast on me doesnae mean I have magic myself.”

  “Well, you can at least acknowledge that magic plays a major part in your life,” Gunnar said. Cormac nodded reluctantly.

  “So why not learn more about it?” Gunnar asked, leaning forwards, his stare intense. Did the man never blink?

  “I’ll learn a little,” Cormac said at last. “But only a tiny wee bit. And only because ye’re a human, like me. I dinnae need to ken everything about selkie magic, just what matters most tae a human.”

  “Agreed,” Gunnar said, and took an enthusiastic swig of his whiskey.

  And so, over the next few days, Cormac spent most of his time with Gunnar, learning the basics of selkie magic. He was reminded almost of time spent with his father - although only the good days. Cormac’s father had too often been cruel and violent, the kindly father figure disappearing in an instant when he was angered. He had loved Liam, his oldest son, so much that it bordered on obsession, but his younger son could hardly ever please him. Liam loved Cormac, though, and tried his best to protect him from the dark side of their father.

  Cormac’s father had died less than a year after Liam. An accident, everyone had called it, but Cormac always suspected that his father had leaped into the waves willingly. He hadn’t wanted to live after the death of his beloved son.

  “We have somewhere we must go today,” Gunnar said, three days into his teaching. By now, Cormac knew better than to ask questions, so he just nodded and followed his teacher out of the palace. Once again, no one dared ask them to stop. Who was Gunnar, that everyone feared him so much?

  “What selkie stories do you know?” Gunnar asked, calling back to Cormac, who tried his best to keep up with the faster swimmer.

  “A few,” Cormac said, uncomfortable. “I dinnae remember them very well.”

  “Liar,” Gunnar said mildly. “What about the selkie wife who leaves her husband when he makes her cry? Seven tears and she has to leave, whether he truly hurt her or no. Do you know that one?”

  Cormac didn’t reply.

  “What about the selkie wife who finally discovers the skin that her husband kept hidden to hold her captive?” Gunnar continued. “Do your people tell that story?”

  “They do,” Cormac said gruffly. “But no one knows a man who had any need to hold a selkie captive.”

  “I don’t mean anythi
ng personal by it,” Gunnar said lightly. “Just curious.”

  “Well, not a one of them applies to me and Lisbetta,” Cormac said. Gunnar did not reply.

  He had never been cruel to Lisbetta - had he? Might he have driven her off without meaning to? What if her angry tears had sparked off some sort of ancient selkie curse that had brought her back to the ocean against her will? None of the stories said what happened to the selkie wives after they left. They just disappeared, lost forever.

 

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