Sixpence and Selkies

by Tilly Wallace

  A scream tore from the soul’s being as the demons from the underworld dragged him to a different kind of depth. With a soft pop, the void closed in on itself and disappeared. Severed from its soul, the seal’s physical remains twitched once before it fell motionless and floated away.

  The water stilled around him as the agitated spheres calmed. His vision cleared and Wycliff cast around for Hannah. When he’d torn Hartley’s soul free, the seal’s dead form had let go of her gown. Its soft green glow came from far below him.

  Then the silver flash wrapped itself around the disappearing green shape. The other creature had her in its grasp.

  I have battled one, I can fight another to free her, he thought as he dove.

  The merged colours created a new form as they entwined together. Moss green and silver alternated before his eyes. But…the creature had not only halted its descent, it was rising. Spinning round and round like a beautiful lure on a line, the two soon hovered close to Wycliff’s paws.

  A slender, translucent shade held tight to Hannah. As he drew a breath to strike out at the new threat, it let go of her and with a gentle push, propelled her body toward Wycliff. He snapped his jaws and grabbed hold of his wife’s dress, careful to avoid clawing her as he paddled to hold his place.

  The shade watched, floating on the current. Her dress was gossamer thin, the fabric merging with the spheres clustered around them. Long hair drifted around the spirit’s face. She bobbed up and revealed her face. She smiled with a familiar tilt to her full lips.

  Lisbeth.

  The spectre nodded, then blew him a kiss. Her task completed, Lisbeth turned into thousands of tiny diamonds and dissipated in the water.

  Wycliff sobbed in gratitude, then powered upward with Hannah in his jaws. Her body hung limp and unresponsive as he hauled her to the surface. He nudged his head under hers, to keep her face clear of the water, and manoeuvred his body under her until she rested along his back. Fighting back his fears, he swam for shore. Once they reached the shallows, he shoved the hellhound away and gathered Hannah in his arms.

  “Hannah? Hannah?” He called her name as he walked free of the ocean and trod the wet sand.

  A crowd had gathered, drawn by his rapid exit from the hall and concerns for Hannah’s whereabouts. Mrs Rossett, Mary, and Frank stood at the front. Barnes had two fingers hooked into Frank’s collar.

  “Blankets! Fetch blankets!” Mrs Rossett commanded when he staggered from the sea.

  Hannah’s eyes were closed, her lips tinged blue, and no breath whispered from between her lips.

  “Don’t leave me. Not like this.” Wycliff laid her flat on the sand and opened her mouth, checking her tongue didn’t block her airway. With one hand holding her nose, he covered her lips with his, and blew. He forced long, deep breaths into her lungs.

  “Is she alive?” Mary said from close by.

  Wycliff couldn’t spare the breath to answer. He concentrated on Hannah, pouring his love into her with each breath he took. After what seemed a lifetime of sheer agony…she coughed.

  “Blankets,” he called.

  Wycliff rolled Hannah to her side as seawater spilled from her throat and she shook from cold and shock. He gathered her into his arms and held her close. Mrs Rossett dropped a blanket over both their forms. Here, at least, was one benefit of being a hellhound. He let the hound’s fire heat his form and his chilled wife. Soon a fine mist drifted from the wool as water turned to steam.

  “It was Hartley. He tried to drown Hannah as I believe he did Sarah, Amy, and Lisbeth.” Wycliff spoke in a low tone as he cradled Hannah. His words carried on the still night and were relayed through the assembled people.

  “What happened to him?” Seager pushed to the front of the crowd.

  Wycliff shook his head. “We fought out in the water. I struck him, to make him let go of Hannah. Then Hartley drifted away. My only concern was Hannah. I have no interest in him. The ocean will decide his fate and will determine whether he returns to shore.”

  No need to mention the creature had died the instant Wycliff ripped the soul from its body and fed it to the ravenous void.

  Seager snorted. “Never did like him. Thought he was too nice all the time. I was sure it had to be an act.”

  Frank shuffled closer and extended his arms. “Take. Mistress?” he rasped.

  Wycliff held Hannah tighter. He couldn’t let go of her and needed the reassurance of her breath against his skin. “No, I will carry her.”

  “We can take her to the tavern and tuck her up warm in a bed,” the publican’s wife offered.

  Hannah stirred in his arms as he stood. She still seemed chilled, but he didn’t want to boil her or expose himself by turning up his internal heat too much.

  “Mireworth,” she murmured. Her eyes were closed, her face nestled against his neck.

  He didn’t know if she was conscious, or merely whispered the word in a dream of a confused and watery world. Wycliff swallowed a tight knot in his throat. Whether she was aware or not, Hannah wanted to go home. Their home. “Fetch the carriage, Frank, instantly. She wants to go home.”

  The big man nodded and lumbered away with purpose in his long stride.

  The crowd parted for Wycliff as he carried Hannah across the beach. Cramond stood to one side, his hands clenched and his eyes wide and sad.

  Wycliff paused beside him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. If I had acted sooner, I might have saved Amy.”

  Cramond shook his head and swallowed several times. “None of us could have known. While he took three souls, at least it wasn’t four…or more.”

  The men shared a silent moment, then Wycliff nodded and carried on up the strand. By the time he reached the road, Frank had the carriage waiting.

  Once back at Mireworth, Wycliff shooed away Mrs Rossett and Mary. The concerned women wanted to undress Hannah and tuck her up in a warm bed. His wife was even now returning to them, and her eyelids fluttered as her mind sought to surface from the depths of unconsciousness.

  “I will tend her.” Wycliff escorted the well-meaning housekeeper and maid to the door.

  He stripped off Hannah’s ruined gown and undergarments and helped her under the blankets. His own clothes were dumped on the floor in a careless fashion. Clothing could be repaired or replaced. Hannah could not. His priceless wife was his sole concern. He gathered her up and curled his body around her.

  “Tell me again how much you love me,” Hannah rasped against his chest.

  His arms tightened around her and he placed a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you beyond death. Wherever our lives lead us, I will be your constant companion and lover.”

  She let out a sigh and settled against him. Then the looseness of an exhausted sleep swept over her limbs.

  The next morning, Wycliff watched as the sunlight penetrated the study window. He had hardly slept, and had stayed awake to guard Hannah, terrified she might be taken from him during the night. Impossible as it was, he imagined Hartley bursting through the window and snatching her up. Wycliff couldn’t contemplate losing her when he had only just come to realise how deeply she resided in his heart and mind. Once, his life had stretched empty before him. Now it was populated with possibilities, love, and laughter.

  Only with the break of day did he allow himself a breath of relief that the nightmare had ended.

  “Did you watch me all night?” She opened her eyes and reached up to stroke his face.

  He captured her hand and kissed her palm. “Only when the terror of seeing you disappear beneath the waves stole over me. In those moments, I craved the reassurance of knowing you slept beside me. Your mother once told me to find a safe harbour, lest I be lost on this ocean I sail. I find it somewhat ironic that I first had to save my safe harbour from drowning.”

  Hannah sat up and pulled the blankets with her as she tucked herself closer to his chest. “What happened to Mr Hartley?”

  He placed one arm around her and with the other, pulled free a lock of
her salty hair and wound it around his finger. “The hellhound dispatched his soul to the underworld. The ocean will either surrender his form or keep it in her embrace.”

  “He knew exactly what to say to make a woman feel seen and wanted. I found myself looking forward to his company on our walks, but you were always in my heart.” She splayed her fingers over his chest. “Both my magic-sensing ability and the mage silver ring tried to protect me from his enchantment. They sent warning tingles rippling over my body, but the ring wasn’t powerful enough to fully protect me. His words clouded my mind. I didn’t even notice he had walked me into the ocean. When he took my hand, I thought we strolled on the sand.”

  “He possessed a charming and intelligent facade that hid his deadly intentions. Mrs Rossett said his grandmother left the village that summer the two men drowned. I suspect she, too, was a selkie, and pulled those men to their deaths.” He would have to discuss what had happened with Sir Manly when they returned to London. If all selkies harboured murderous intent, they would need to be strictly monitored.

  Hannah’s fingers drummed a slow beat over his heart. “He wore a blue ring that glowed. It must have fuddled my thoughts and perhaps concealed the skin that allowed his shift of forms. It chills me, how easily he must have lured the others into the water when most likely they only sought his advice as a clergyman.”

  “He said you had chosen to immerse yourself in his embrace and wash away your sorrows.” Had Lisbeth walked out with him to ease her pain, or had she fought to survive? Amy had much to look forward to and had had her chance at happiness snatched away. Sarah Rivers probably only wanted a shoulder to cry on after an argument, and found herself pulled to the bottom of the ocean.

  “Compulsion is not a choice. Mr Hartley took away our free will to resist him and then took their lives.” Her words skated across his naked chest.

  “I saw Lisbeth,” Wycliff whispered.

  “No! Where?” Hannah pushed off his chest to face him, her eyes wide with questions.

  “I was fighting the seal. He had let go of your gown, and you sank out of my reach. A silver flash caught you before you disappeared and brought you back up to me. I recognised Lisbeth’s soul. She smiled and, I think, has found some measure of peace.” It comforted him to think Lisbeth’s soul had become part of the ocean, both of them wild and free. Now, his friend would never be alone.

  “She must have been a remarkable woman. I wish I could have known her.” Hannah kissed him. When he let her go, she glanced over her shoulder at the mottled light coming in through the window. “We must bathe and dress. The day is slipping away and we have much to do.”

  Wycliff grinned and waggled a finger at her. “I am going to insist, Lady Wycliff, that you stay right here. Mary and Mrs Rossett will be wanting to check on you and they can bring a tray. I think today the chores can wait so that we might do something together. What say you to investigating the hole in the wall Frank made, or finding the suites upstairs that belong to us?”

  Mischief sparked in her eyes. “Once we have thoroughly investigated the ground floor of the tower, I would like the master of Mireworth to lead the expedition to our apartments. If you can remember the way?”

  24

  Three days later, the mage silver ring on Hannah’s right hand tingled in a familiar fashion. She opened the conservatory doors, where she had been arranging the rediscovered and cleaned rattan furniture, and a sparrow flew into the room. The bird landed on the rim of the scrubbed pool and cocked its head at her.

  “We are not far away, Hannah, and I so look forward to seeing you,” her mother’s voice chirped from the little bird’s beak.

  “I have much to tell you, Mother! I shall make sure the kettle is on.” Hannah held out her hand and the bird hopped onto her finger. Then she took it over to the door, lest it become confused by the half-cleaned windows and batter itself trying to escape.

  Wycliff, Frank, and Barnes worked to scrub the outside of the conservatory. Hannah shielded her eyes against the sun as she looked up at their progress. “Wycliff, Mother and Father will be here soon. Probably in time for tea.”

  Wycliff slid down the ladder propped against the curve of the glass. On reaching the bottom, he wiped his hands on a cloth tucked into his waistband. “I shall go clean up before they arrive.”

  Hannah stared at the outside of Mireworth and worried her bottom lip. In the month of hard work they had put into the house, they had literally only scratched the surface in one small area.

  Wycliff wrapped his arms around her waist and nibbled her ear. “You wouldn’t happen to be worrying what your parents will think of the old pile, would you?”

  She placed her arms around his neck and laced her fingers together against his skin. “I want them to fall under its charm as much as I have.”

  Humour twitched at his lips. “As I recollect, your mother said your father used to live in a hovel with potatoes growing in the corners. Mireworth’s rooms are proudly potato free.”

  Hannah laughed and kissed him. Her mother had brought Wycliff into their lives when he bristled like a disturbed porcupine. If anyone could see beyond a concealing outer layer to the truth of what resided within, it was Seraphina Miles.

  An hour later, the carriage pulled around by the stables and Hannah rushed to greet her parents. Sheba barked in excitement as the wheels rolled to a halt. Timmy sat up front with Old Jim and called down to the spaniel.

  Sir Hugh climbed down and held out his arms to Hannah. She flung herself into her father’s warm embrace, while Frank untied her mother’s bathchair from the back of the carriage.

  “I have something for you. Cook mistakenly forwarded them to me, instead of to you.” Sir Hugh pulled away to tug a fat parcel from his jacket pocket and hold it out to her.

  Hannah took the plump stack of letters and recognised the writing instantly. “Why, they are from Lizzie!”

  While she wanted to dive immediately into her friend’s letters, they could wait until a quiet moment. Relief flooded her—Lizzie had not, after all, encountered pirates on the high seas or highwaymen along some remote Italian road. Or if she had, she’d survived to tell the tale but possibly lost her ensorcelled paper.

  Hugh lifted Seraphina down and placed her in the bathchair.

  Hannah hugged her mother and kissed her linen-clad cheek. “Welcome to Mireworth, Mother.”

  Seraphina held her daughter close. “I have missed you, my dear, but I rather think Dorset suits you. There is such a look of contentment about you.” Then she turned her attention to the dirty stone exterior of the house. “Oh, Wycliff, your house is beautiful.”

  “I rather think you are overly generous, Lady Miles,” he said with a glance at Hannah.

  “I never said you didn’t have a large amount of work before you. But Mireworth has an elegant bone structure and what is more, there is something about this location. Do you not feel it, Hannah? There is the gentlest whisper of magic against one’s skin.” She walked her fingers up one arm to demonstrate.

  Hannah stared at the house with fresh eyes. Magic? “No, I’ve not felt that. But from the moment I crossed the threshold, I have had a sense of comfort and belonging, despite her outward appearance. As though I have found the place I am meant to be.”

  “Love will do that to you, Hannah.” Sir Hugh winked and slapped Wycliff on the back.

  Hannah took charge of the bathchair and wheeled her mother through the open doors into the conservatory.

  “Ma’at! What an odd place to find you.” Seraphina pulled herself closer to the pool and reached out to touch the statue in greeting.

  “That is not the only mystery about Mireworth. But first you simply must tell me all about the Fae royal court before I burst from curiosity.” Hannah dropped into a rattan chair and leaned forward, waiting for her mother’s tale to begin.

  Mrs Rossett took charge of sorting out accommodation for Timmy, Old Jim, and Helga—the formidable maid who assisted Seraphina. Then the young lad dis
appeared to run around with the spaniel, yelling he would be back at dinner time.

  Hannah and her family sat in the sun in the conservatory while Seraphina described the royal court, accompanied by illustrations that danced over the brick floor. Then Hannah and Wycliff took turns to tell her parents of their encounter with the selkie and the engravings found in the tower fireplace. Only when they had dry throats and the sun had begun to fade outside did they consider moving through to the warmer kitchen. A bark heralded the return of dog and boy, probably drawn by the aromas of dinner wafting from the range.

  “I rather think that before it gets too dark, we should see this tower,” Seraphina said.

  Hannah bounced on her toes, eager to hear what her mother would say about the hidden tower. Wycliff took Hannah’s hand and they led the way as Hugh wheeled Seraphina. In the grand foyer, they paused at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Griffins? An odd choice for this house,” Seraphina murmured, stroking a wooden wing.

  “I admit to being disappointed that Wycliff’s ancestor chose a Greek creature for the newel posts, when Ma’at presides over the reflecting pool,” Hannah said.

  Seraphina muttered under her breath and brought her clasped hands together to breathe upon them. When she opened her hands, a golden orb appeared and drifted upward to hang above them, casting a yellow glow that lit up the room. “Perhaps Wycliff’s great-grandfather was a cultured man who borrowed from many different tales. Or perhaps they are not griffins at all, but sphinx.”

  Hannah stared at the griffins with wide eyes. “Sphinx?” Surely not. How could she have made such an error?

  “They are both winged creatures with the body of a lion, are they not?” Seraphina gestured to the light and it floated to hover above a griffin. Or a sphinx.

  “That is a matter we can discuss later, Hannah. Let us take your parents up to the tower before we lose all the light.” Wycliff tugged her up the stairs.