Hidden in Sealskin

by Thea van Diepen

  “I recall something more,” said the lady, “of the potion maker. After Lord Watorej had my skin, they two argued. I was too frightened to hear all, but it seemed mayhap that they had an agreement of some kind, and that he had broken it. ’Twas to do with me in some way… he had promised her my help, perhaps? But he was not true to his word, and she was angry for it. I was glad—she has terrifying power.”

  As the lady mentioned this, the part of the spell in Adren’s mind jiggled, then widened to open a slight gap. Adren lifted her head and turned all her attention to that single point within her, trying not to hope too greatly. A trickle of emotion came through from the unicorn, but it was fuzzy, as if the unicorn were asleep. Oh, thank the saints! She stood.

  “What is it?” asked Nadin.

  “I can find the unicorn again.” Adren rolled up the sealskin and opened her pack.

  “You can’t take that with you,” said Nadin. “That’s exactly what she wants!”

  “Which is why we’re taking it.” She shoved the skin into her pack, which she then handed to Nadin. He shook his head.

  “I’m staying here with Lady Watorej. Lord Watorej has to be looking for her now, and we can’t leave her by herself.”

  Adren rolled her eyes. “I’m not leaving her.” Then she addressed the lady. “If the potion maker really wants you and your skin, we’ll have to convince her we’re willing to give it and you to her before we can free the unicorn.” The lady nodded.

  “I would not wish to bring thee more sorrow than thou hast already endured. But, please, let me carry what is mine.” She reached for the pack.

  “I’m not like you,” said Adren, stunned by the lady’s use of thou, but she gave her what she wanted.

  “We can’t do this without a plan!” Nadin’s colour had returned and he rose to his feet. “My lady, if you come, you’ll be putting yourself in danger. She could put that spell of hers on you again, and then we’d have saved you from one person only for you to be captured by someone else. I can’t let that happen to you! We have to take you to the ocean so you can escape. We’ll get the unicorn back some other way.” Nadin’s voice shook with anger of an intensity that surprised Adren. He hadn’t even been this passionate when he told her about his mother.

  “And what if the potion maker kills the unicorn as a result?” she pointed out. “She could get a lot of money from the horn, never mind the internal organs, blood, bones, and hide. Believe me, I know what kinds of things people do at a chance like this.”

  “She might not be after money.”

  “All humans are after money.”

  “I’m not.”

  Sweet saints. Not now.

  “I won’t sit here talking any longer while I could be doing,” Adren said through gritted teeth.

  “We can’t be doing if we don’t know what we’re doing,” Nadin shot back.

  “We do know. We’re going after the unicorn.”

  “And then what?”

  “We decide as we walk,” said the lady, who had put her hands between the two of them.

  Nadin flushed and mumbled, “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Adren spun on her heel and headed off, the lady beside her. Nadin, caught by surprise, had to jog to catch up to them.

  The fact that Nadin kept trying to make a plan didn’t sway Adren in the least. The mansion may have been Nadin’s terrain, but this was Adren’s. And the potion maker’s, in a sense. No detailed plot would work here and the sooner he learned that, the better. Even if someone came up with what seemed the perfect strategy, there were always variables no one could predict. Reality would tear to pieces any person who thought they could succeed by way of a complicated plan, flexible as it may be. Adren knew this only too well.

  As soon as they had neared the unicorn, she left them with the excuse of seeking information. She would have told the lady what she was about to do, but not Nadin. Something about his defense of humans had got under her skin, and it rankled. Her original assessment of his nature had been only a guess after all. It was an educated one, but a guess nonetheless. Which hadn’t bothered her too much, except for the doubt that now stepped out of the shadows to be examined. She had trusted him so far, and he hadn’t broken that trust, but that may only be for so long. If only she had some kind of proof of his character. But she couldn’t obtain it, not yet. When she came close enough to the unicorn, she turned herself invisible and crept forward.

  Both unicorn and potion maker stood in a clearing by the inlet. The potion maker had her head tilted to one side, and her eyes didn’t seem to focus on her surroundings. If anything, she was listening.

  “Hiding won’t do you any good,” said the woman. “The unicorn can feel that you’re here.” That dratted spell. Adren should have expected this.

  Since the less the potion maker knew about Adren’s magic the better, she stepped back into a hiding place where she let herself become visible again. With only hours of experience with the connection, the potion maker wouldn’t be able to tell changes in distance to the degree of accuracy that Adren could. Even Adren herself couldn’t give anything beyond rough estimates, despite years of practise. As her chest relaxed, Adren walked out to the potion maker.

  The unicorn stood, dull-eyed, and so, so still. Not a twitch. Not even a sound.

  “Where is the sealskin?” asked the potion maker.

  “Nearby.”

  “And the selkie?”

  “Also nearby.”

  “Why aren’t they here?” The potion maker squinted and searched the trees behind Adren.

  “I didn’t know this was a trade.”

  “What else would it be? I have something you care about, and you have what I want. If you give them to me, I’ll take the spell off the unicorn.”

  “And let it go without causing it further harm,” Adren said, her tone final. She had no intention of giving the potion maker a loophole. Even if the woman backed out on her promise, Adren wasn’t about to be stupid and let her.

  “For the selkie, I will let the unicorn go. For the skin, I will remove the spell. Do this promptly, and I will cause the unicorn no further harm.”

  This wording Adren found interesting. As far as she had understood, removing the spell was the same as letting the unicorn go. Either the potion maker had a piece in play that had yet to be revealed, or she was bluffing, or she’d made an honest mistake with her wording. Adren doubted the latter, but couldn't tell which one of the others was accurate. Considering her previous dealings with the potion maker, though, she felt safe enough taking a calculated risk to find out.

  “I’ll return soon.” If she was going to talk to the lady alone, she would need to distract Nadin.

  When she came to him and the lady, he asked her what she had discovered, but she didn’t answer.

  “I have an idea, but I need you to go that way”—she pointed away from where the unicorn and potion maker were—“to find the inlet. I’ll stay with the lady.” He nodded and headed out.

  “Is the unicorn unharmed?” asked the lady.

  “It is under the spell, and so is harmed, but no more shall come to pass.” Adren slipped into the dialect more easily than she had expected, considering how long it had been since she had last used it in a real conversation. The two-sided kind. “What magic have you, besides that of transformation?”

  “I am poor in the use of magic. Thou wilt find no weapon in me.” The lady glanced where Nadin had gone. “Am I right in thinking that thou desirest him not in thy plan?”

  “Call me not thou, an you please. I am not your kind.” Adren gathered her thoughts. “He must needs be away for the plan I have begun. The potion maker shall release the unicorn from the spell for the sealskin. Have you any magic that might cause the unicorn to flee while I secure the skin?”

  The lady shook her head. “Methinks you need Nadin. I would only become captive again.”

  “Nay, I need him not!”

  “He hath helped you greatly. You would ignore a
ll that?”

  “It is because of what happens now that I trust him not. See you not yet how dishonest humans are? How they look only to their own gain?”

  “Like you?”

  “I am not like them.”

  “Nor are you like me. What are you then, an you are neither human nor magical creature? What then are you, an you fit not with the world as you perceive it?”

  “I am myself. Now, aid me.”

  The lady shook her head. “Take the sealskin, an you wish, and enact your plan without me, or wait for him to return,” She crossed her arms.

  “You are adamant in this?”

  “Aye.”

  “You will let me have your skin, with the trust that I can succeed alone?”

  “Aye,” said the lady, but after a pause. Before Adren could jump on that, the lady removed the pack and handed it over. “Take it and go. Methinks Nadin will return soon.”

  Adren took the pack and left. Saints. She had assumed the lady would understand and come to help a fellow magical creature, not that she would trust humans first. After all, all any human had done to her was imprison her and make her forget what and who she really was.

  No matter. Adren would be able to free the unicorn, just as she would be able to find a cure. It might take a long time, and there might be several dead ends along the way, but it would come out in their favour. There was no other way to see it. None that she would agree to, anyways.

  When Adren returned to the potion maker and the unicorn, she took out the sealskin at once for the potion maker to see.

  “Now take off the spell. Or I won’t bring you the selkie.”

  “Hand me the skin.” Adren obeyed, ready to make the unicorn run. The potion maker set the sealskin on the ground before reaching into a pocket and pointing at the unicorn with all the fingers of the other. The coil of spell at the back of Adren’s mind dissolved and all that remained were the unicorn’s fuzzy emotions. Adren waited for more to happen, only to realize after the potion maker had lowered her hand that the unicorn was asleep. The eerie stillness had gone, replaced by closed eyes, soft breathing, and one hind leg lifted slightly off the ground. It wouldn’t respond to her. Not in this state.

  The potion maker chuckled. “My sleeping potions are just as effective on unicorns as they are on humans. I’ll wake it up as soon as I have everything I asked for safely in my power. Otherwise, it won’t wake until nightfall, and you don’t want to wait until then.”

  Adren wasn’t fazed. She may not be able to remove the unicorn from the situation, but she could remove the potion maker. The only question was how to do it without giving the potion maker enough time to put her spell on the unicorn again and tell it to attack. Adren knew without question that that was not a scenario she would survive.

  She had her knife, but no skill in throwing it. And magic. It hummed, eager to act.

  No, she dared not. She would not be able to bear it if she missed and hit the unicorn.

  “I made it clear you wouldn’t get the unicorn back without both the selkie and her skin in my possession. Did you think you could trick me?”

  Yes.

  “How did you learn about the unicorn?”

  “I found your connection to it when I put the spell on you.” The potion maker gave a crooked smile, her words confident save for a moment, a glimpse of wide eyes and stretched lips when the word “spell” left her mouth. Her next words came out in a rush: “Now go get the selkie, if you really have her here.”

  “And why do you think I, the one person you can't control, am also the one negotiating with you at this moment?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Lord Watorej is no fool. He will allow you to keep the sealskin, but he has no intention of giving you his wife.” Adren didn’t break eye contact with the potion maker, didn’t move a muscle of her face despite the discomfort on her tongue. She knew the tells for a lie. The potion maker didn’t. She paled, as Adren had hoped, but lifted her chin.

  “So he will finally hold to that part of the bargain?”

  “Yes.”

  The potion maker raised her eyebrows. “I find it interesting he would share the details of his deepest shame with a hireling. Or anyone, really.”

  “I am not just anyone.”

  “No, you’re not. I’ve heard about you. They call you the White Changeling, don’t they? Those you’ve worked with. You lie, you steal—don’t think I don’t know where you got that money from—you show no regard for human life, and for what? There are some who say you can’t help yourself and search for a cure for your own madness. There are others who would rather just have you dead. So, suppose you tricked me, suppose you got away from this through foul play: how do you think those people would react when they knew the truth? How long do you think you and the unicorn would have?”

  Adren’s hands shook. She hadn’t known there were people who hated her enough to want to kill her. And she didn’t like that the potion maker had used that fact to control the conversation. “Why do you want the selkie?”

  “Before the saints threw their creators into hell, people worshipped the gods. Some never stopped.”

  “That in no way answers my question.”

  “It wasn’t meant to. You know, if you let me have the selkie, through her help I would become able to cure your unicorn.”

  After lying the exact same way twice, she thought she could fool Adren again? “Somehow, I doubt that.”

  “Well, I offered. Now.” The potion maker raised her arm. “Will you give me what I want, or is it time to find a buyer for this carcass?” Her fingers, stiff, pointed at the unicorn.

  Chapter Eight

  Before Adren had a chance to respond, the potion maker’s hand flew back and she cried out. Nadin ran up beside Adren.

  “The lady told me where you were,” he said, as if apologizing. “I found the inlet. Except it looks like you did, too…” She ignored him and leapt at the potion maker, who cradled her burnt hand. The woman's reactions were slow and she didn’t defend herself until Adren had already reached into the potion maker’s pocket and flung away the object she’d used in making the spell.

  Still, the potion maker was wild. They grappled for longer than Adren had thought older woman would have stamina. Every time Adren would reach for her knife, the potion maker would block with one arm and swipe with the other. Adren grabbed both her wrists and held. The woman struggled, but kept pushing against the fingers—the strongest part of Adren’s grip. Adren waited, letting the potion maker tire herself out. Then, as the potion maker lifted a foot to kick, Adren pushed with all her might until they had both fallen to the ground. Adren punched her across the jaw and she went limp.

  “Do you still need—?”

  “Go get the lady,” Adren told Nadin and, as he ran off, she searched the potion maker’s pockets for something, anything that would wake the unicorn. Unlike from the choke, recovery time from a punch was variable, and Adren couldn’t afford to rely on events lining up in her favour. Saints knew they hadn’t done so the entire time she’d been in this town.

  The pockets were empty. Gods in hell, the potion maker must have planned to wake the unicorn using that object. And Adren had thrown it away.

  For the next few moments, the forest was treated to such a colourful and inventive stream of cursing that even sailors might feel the need to cover their ears. When she had finished, Adren went to the unicorn, wishing she could shake it awake but, without a potion or magic to help, the unicorn slept too deeply for that. She put a hand on its shoulder, examined its wounds instead. They had closed over and, though there remained some swelling, none was in danger of opening up. Adren became grim at the thought of the opportunity this presented. Her hand hovered over the unicorn’s flank.

  Saints, she couldn’t hesitate! The potion maker could wake at any minute. Eyes closed, Adren pressed into those red lines on the unicorn’s flank. Never had she thought she would need to cause the unicorn this kind of pain. Especia
lly not to free it from sleep. Its muscles twitched, but its mind didn’t clear. She kept pressing, harder, as hard as she dared before her stomach knotted and she had to keep from retching.

  “Adren!” It was Nadin’s voice, at a full shout. With a glance back to make sure the potion maker was still unconscious, Adren looked for him, but could see neither him nor the lady. “Lord Watorej!” he yelled, and his voice cracked. Adren’s heart skipped a beat. Of course he’d find them now, of all times. He would come in and ruin everything before she could finish with the potion maker. Idiot humans.

  There was a bang and horses screaming, followed by the smell of ash. Nadin must have used magic to defend the lady. Adren hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to let anyone see him do it, if he wanted to keep his job and care for his mother.

  The lady ran through the trees, nearly tripping in her haste.

  “Get me my skin!” Adren obeyed at once. Lady Watorej took it, went into the inlet, and looked back.

  Six people on horseback entered the clearing. Adren drew her knife and adopted a fighting stance, watching the four officers that came behind on foot, two of them holding Nadin. They and the riders formed a ring around Adren and the lady, saltwater splashing the legs and flanks of those horses that entered the inlet. At first, Adren thought the lord hadn’t joined the search, but one rider came forward and she recognized him. Lord Watorej. The way his attention went straight to the lady to the exclusion of all else sent shivers down Adren’s spine.

  “Come home,” he said to her, his voice surprisingly gentle. “You aren’t well.”

  “Nay, my lord, not I.”

  “Please, allow the doctor to see to you. If you would come—” He reached out a hand, but the lady pulled back.

  “You are a child who thinks love means all must sacrifice at his altar. I will have no more of it.” Then, with a mouthed “thank you” to Adren, the lady pressed the sealskin to her body and dove. As Lord Watorej dismounted and drew his sword, a seal’s tail disappeared into the water. His body swayed as if in the crossroad of two conflicting paths: one drew him into the ocean, the other rooted him to the shore.