Kingdom of the Sea

by Isobel Robertson

  Those were no natural pearls. They were Lisbetta’s tears, trapped and frozen. And once she had seven, Anja had put the spell into motion, drawing on ancient selkie lore to add power to her spell, dragging Lisbetta back to the ocean, as frozen in her seal-shape as the tears were frozen into the shape of pearls. This was deep magic, with a thousand years of stories behind it.

  He thrust himself forward, ready to hurl all his anger at Anja, but he caught himself on the edge of the doorway just in time. His hands scraped on the rough stone as he pulled himself to a halt.

  Anja had crouched down beside Lisbetta, their faces almost touching. As Cormac watched, barely daring to breathe, Anja wrapped one arm around Lisbetta and leaned close against her. With her other hand, she began to gently stroke Lisbetta’s head. The seal sank into her, and the two seemed completely absorbed in each other’s company. How long since the sisters had shared time like this? How long since each had let the other know she cared?

  Cormac shook his head and backed away a little. No doubt that Anja was guilty. But she clearly did care for Lisbetta, whatever else she might feel. This was not the time to throw himself at her with accusations. He needed to think.

  He drifted back through the corridors of the palace, his thoughts whirring more than ever before. From what the other selkies, and Gunnar, had told him, trapping Lisbetta in her seal form like this was considered a dark and terrible magic. How could he accuse their queen of such a thing with no proof? But how could he undo a spell that he did not fully understand? It seemed likely that any counter-spell would require the necklace, and Anja never seemed to take it off.

  He cursed himself softly, wishing he’d seen this earlier. Blaming Erlend! What a waste of time. Anja’s necklace had been right in front of him ever since the moment he’d arrived in this cursed place. What a fool to not see it earlier, even after Gunnar had started nudging him in the direction of old tales. And what a fool to leave his wife alone, unprepared, with a sister who might love her or might hate her. The queen cared for her sister in some way, that much was certain. But until Cormac could learn what she did, and why, he would not trust her to protect Lisbetta as much as she should.

  “If ye will not let me leave the palace unsupervised, then at least let me help ye!”

  Cormac had a headache already, and he had only been arguing for a few minutes. It was starting to feel like hours.

  “I should be part of this committee,” he continued. “I am one of the best resources ye have if ye intend to fight off these human attackers. I know them. I understand them.”

  He hoped that his insincerity wasn’t too obvious to the surrounding selkies, all lords and ladies of Anja’s council. He wouldn’t be especially sorry to see them all crushed into dust, but he had to be involved in Anja’s defence plans. He needed to spend every moment working out exactly what Anja had done, and why. She could not be allowed to plan anything without him knowing about it

  “I will say again, brother,” Anja said, her tone bordering on insulting. “You should leave this council chamber. There is no room for your kind here.”

  “And I will remind ye again that I am indeed your brother,” Cormac said, fighting to keep his voice level and polite. “I am, through yer sister, a member of this royal family. I am also an expert in human naval warfare. I can help this entire kingdom.”

  “You and Lisbetta have no right to influence selkie affairs,” Anja snapped. “She made that choice when she married a human. You do not belong here.”

  “Regardless, I am here now,” Cormac said steadily. “And I am equipped to help ye. He turned to the surrounding lords, spreading his hands wide as he begged for support. “I am the only expert on human naval warfare ye could hope to find under the waves. This is an area that selkies know nothing about. Do not risk yer own safety out of pride or uncertainty. These pirates are strong, powerful. I may be yer only hope.”

  He paused, letting the silence hang in the room. Would they be convinced?

  In truth, Cormac truly was an expert at all things connected to the sea. He’d come by the knowledge somewhat dishonestly, thanks to a smuggling career beginning when he was only sixteen. His good friend Red was the son of a smuggler, who offered Cormac an opportunity he couldn’t refuse.

  A few years later, Cormac’s uncertain relationship with the law had taken an even steeper turn. He and Red, disposing of merchandise in Glasgow, met Sigurd and a few of his men in an inn. They got talking and, by the morning, Red and Cormac had signed up to be pirates, on the promise of more money than they could ever make smuggling. For the next three years, they sailed with Sigurd around Britain, returning to their hometown only every few months. Preying on undefended merchant ships was easy money, with the cargo always bringing a substantial profit.

  But, while Sigurd had at first seemed dashing and a little romantic, Cormac had quickly, abruptly, grown up. He and Red had come to see the truth. Sigurd was cruel, manipulative, dishonest even to his own crew. He ruled through fear, and there was no freedom in working for him. So Cormac and Red left - although not without a great deal of difficulty.

  Sigurd did not like men to leave his service alive. How would he treat Cormac if he found him now, the common smuggler who’d evaded him twice?

  “You may be part of this committee,” one of the selkies said at last. Cormac could feel the anger radiating off Anja, but she had appointed one of her lords leader of the defence committee. She had to abide by his decisions - at least, for now.

  “I intend to be one of the leaders of this committee,” Cormac said, standing up a little straighter. “And in charge of the more practical aspects of defence.”

  Pushing too far, perhaps, but he couldn’t leave Anja with any secrets. He had to know everything.

  The room broke into silent mutters, thoughts flitting from one mind to another. Only selkies should be Lord of the Borders, they said. The title sounded familiar. It was a position which must only be given to the most trustworthy, the selkies muttered. Could they trust him?

  “I will swear any oath necessary,” he offered. “You have my word that I will not betray the selkie kingdom.”

  He was determined now. He would know everything that Anja did, so that she could not carry out any more dark magic without him learning of it. And perhaps he could finally defeat Sigurd at the same time.

  It seemed that the most intense discussion had been going on silently all around him.

  “You may be a leader,” a selkie finally conceded. “But you will share power with me, Thormond of the Endless Deeps. You will not be left unsupervised, but we will call upon your expertise.”

  Not quite what he’d asked for, but a surprising offer all the same. Cormac inclined his head as graciously as he could manage. Thormond seemed fair.

  “We leave now to begin examining our defence troops,” Thormond told him. “Meet me at the palace gate.”

  The selkie lord turned to Anja. “I will ensure that he is monitored at all times, your majesty.”

  He turned and swept from the room before the queen had a chance to reply. Cormac flew after him, not daring to wait in case Anja decided to gainsay Thormond after all.

  The selkie defenders had gathered in a flat, open area a little way from the palace. Selkie lords - lordlings, judging by their lesser jewellery - each headed a ragtag column of armoured selkies.

  “This is it?” Cormac asked, directing his thoughts to Thormond as privately as possible. If only he could master the utter silence that the selkies seemed to manage.

  Thormond shrugged. “The bulk of our forces are kept to guard the queen or to patrol the other borders. This is all that’s left.”

  “Well, I’ll do what I can.”

  Cormac swam forward, ready to begin his instruction on human ships, but one of the other selkie lords caught at his arm.

  “My lord,” the selkie said to Thormond. “Surely he should just give you the necessary information and then leave? We do not want a human too involved in our defence.
Who knows what he might do with the knowledge.”

  Thormond looked at Cormac for a moment, considering.

  “No. We need him. My lord Cormac, please share with all of us whatever you know about human sailing techniques. You see, we have a captured human ship ready to help with our defence. We merely require assistance in using it.”

  “If I can do anything, I can teach ye tae sail,” Cormac said, feeling a spark of excitement. An entire ship to command, all by himself? “Put me in command of this ship and I will turn yer warriors intae sailors in no time.”

  “This is not a good idea,” the other selkie lord, muttered, but Thormond dismissed him with a wave.

  “We need this human’s expertise if we are to use the ship at all. And I am the commander here, not you.”

  He turned to Cormac. “Are you prepared to begin training our warriors tomorrow morning? We cannot waste any more time.”

  “I’ll be here,” Cormac said, the itch to sail already beginning to grow. Being down here in the selkie kingdom might feel like a prison, but a ship had always offered him freedom. A sliver of doubt niggled at him - was this really the best way to keep watch on Anja? He hadn’t seen her - or Lisbetta - in hours now. Who knew what trouble she might have caused?

  Responsibility, authority- he loved the idea of commanding this ship. But he was no closer to understanding Anja, or her magic, and he needed to be away from here before Sigurd arrived. The selkies would survive on their own, as they always had.

  Cormac sat with Lisbetta in the small courtyard, gently stroking her head and wondering how his life had become so strange. He felt surprisingly calm, despite everything that was building up around him. In this little courtyard, time seemed to stand still.

  And then he felt a sudden jolt of magic, cutting through the water, faint but distinct. Somehow, he knew it was Moira, as certainly as if he heard her voice. What had happened? He tugged on the connection, but Moira did not reply. He felt her fear, burning down the link between them, but there was nothing more. Beside him, Lisbetta starts to panic, throwing herself against him and calling out in her strange seal noises. If she felt it too, it must be real.

  He had to make sure that his children and Moira were all safe.

  He and Lisbetta set off immediately. As the new captain of the defence, no one questioned him leaving. He felt a moment of guilt at abandoning training, but a panic signal like that couldn’t be ignored.

  Every stroke that it took him to swim home felt agonising, every foot he travelled still not bringing him close enough. Lisbetta stayed alongside him, lending him support as she slid effortlessly through the water. Cormac cursed the foolish human body that made it so difficult for him to swim.

  They reached the beach at last, Cormac scrabbling up onto the sand. Lisbetta flopped up beside him, but he realised quickly that she could go no further. A seal could not clamber up a cliffside path and walk through a town.

  “You have to stay here,” he said to her, torn between the need to comfort her and the burning desire to find his children.

  Lisbetta screeched at him, flapping on the sand in her desperate efforts to come further up the beach. He knew she was frustrated, and afraid, but he could not keep a seal safe in the centre of a town full of seal-hunters. He’d be locked up as a mad man.

  “You have to wait in the sea,” he said, taking a few seconds to crouch down and stroke her head. “It’s not safe here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Lisbetta turned and slid back into the water, disappearing from sight. Cormac set off up the beach at a run, trying not to panic over the extra lost time.

  He’d always worried about what could happen to Lisbetta while she wore her seal shape, but for years she seemed to have given up all thought of it. Perhaps he should have been paying more attention. Perhaps she’d needed his protection after all.

  When he reached the house, the door was locked, and no amount of hammering brought an answer. The neighbours must be looking out of their windows by now, wondering what on earth was happening. No time to worry about gossip.

  He threw himself at the door, slamming it with his mental energy at the same time. It crashed off its hinges and he staggered into the house.

  “Moira? Rona?” No answer. What had happened here?

  He slipped into the parlour, suddenly afraid in his own house.

  Moira lay sprawled out on the parlour floor, her dress crumpled around her. Cormac was on his hands and knees in a heartbeat, desperately checking her for a pulse. She was alive, thank God, just unconscious.

  He realised that the children were in the room as well, and he almost vomited on the wooden floor. All three of them lay on the parlour bench, heads lolling. He checked each one for a pulse and nearly cried with relief to realise they were all alive, just as unconscious as their aunt.

  Gently, he began to wake them, shaking each of them as gently as possible and stroking them with the softest magic he could manage. Rona’s eyelids fluttered open first, then Joseph’s then finally Patrick’s.

  “Papa? What’s happened to Auntie Moira?” Rona asked, her voice weak. Cormac felt the children’s horror as they looked at Moira, still lying unmoving on the floor.

  Patrick started to cry, and suddenly Cormac had three sobbing children wrapped around him.

  “Hush, hush,” he murmured, stroking their heads awkwardly and wishing that Lisbetta was with him. “Auntie Moira is fine. She’s just tired. And so are ye! Look, ye fell asleep on this bench here. Let’s get ye up tae bed for a little rest.”

  He shepherded the children upstairs, his heart clenching at their unsteady steps and confused faces. This was no ordinary tiredness. He heard the creak as they all settled into bed. Was it safe for them to sleep? He had no idea what else to do with them.

  Next, he tried to shake Moira awake, but she did not respond as easily as the children. He slapped her face lightly, but she still did not move. Finally, he tried magic, sending her a flood of strength. Could she use his power to revive herself? Nothing. He tried harder, opening himself up and letting his energy drain out of him, swirls of power brightly coloured against his eyelids.

  At last, as Cormac felt his body growing heavy and his eyelids drooping, Moira looked up at him, her eyes confused.

  “What happened?” Cormac asked her, trying to think through a fog of exhaustion. His body had never ached so much.

  “I used too much magic,” Moira said. “I can’t keep protecting them forever, Cormac. The curse is tightening on them too.”

  Cormac stared at her in horror. “What curse? The magic is Anja’s. How can it be affecting the children.”

  Moira shook her head. “Anja may be using it for her own ends, but the curse is old magic. I can feel it. Rona is nearly at her seventh birthday - seven years spent on land - and the magic is coming for her, like it came for her mother.”

  “But Lisbetta is almost free,” Cormac said. “It’s just her shape that’s frozen by Anja’s magic. She can return to land whenever she likes.”

  “And are you sure you could save Rona in the same way?”

  Cormac said nothing. Could he hang onto Rona with the same power that he’d used with Lisbetta? What would it do to his little daughter to find herself dragged to a nightmarish undersea world, a place that she didn’t even know existed? How afraid would she be, how vulnerable?

  “I can stay,” he told Moira, his heart heavy. “I’ve learnt a lot. I can keep the children safe with my own strength.”

  “What about Lisbetta? We need her as well - and we need to break this last part of the curse, or the risks are even greater.”

  “I cannae leave!” Cormac said, breathing so fast that he thought he might collapse. The edges of his vision already seemed darker. “How can I hope to stop this dark magic Anja is using? What can I do apart from protect my children?”

  Moira looked up at him calmly, her face pale against the dark wooden floor.

  “You have to go back, C
ormac. You have to stop Anja.”

  She was right, of course. She was always right.

  Cormac returned to the beach, his feet dragging through the sand. But, when he reached the damp sand that marked the high tide line, he paused.

  He wanted to save Lisbetta, but at what cost? What risks might his children face if he left again? This was too much for Moira. It was making her weak. How much longer could she hold out? What if some other danger appeared - like Erlend, or Sigurd? Cormac had too many enemies to leave his beloved children unprotected, if Moira was no longer able to defend them.

  Should he stay?

  He gazed out at the water, his ears ringing, waves of hot and cold sweeping through him. What should he do?

  Far out at sea, he saw the figure of a dolphin leap out of the waves.