Kingdom of the Sea (The Selkie Kingdom Book 2)

by Isobel Robertson

  “We act on the queen’s orders,” the guard said, pushing his way through the crowd of interested selkies.

  Thormond made eye contact with Cormac for a brief second, then shrugged and backed away, disappearing into the crowd. What was happening? How could Anja have got this advantage over him already? There had been no time.

  Desperate, Cormac yanked his arm free and swung a punch at the nearest guard, but he was still slow-moving underwater, and the selkie dodged him easily, a second guard slamming into him from behind. He fell, twisting awkwardly as he hit the rough slabs of the courtyard floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a frightened seal face coming towards him.

  “Get away!” he screamed out with the strongest magic he could manage. “Lisbetta, get away from here!”

  For once, she listened to him. Lisbetta shot back across the courtyard towards the gate, moving faster than Cormac had ever seen before. Another group of guards lunged after her, but she slipped past them. Would she make it through the gate?

  “How dare you attack me!” Cormac roared, shoving hard at the guard who pinned him down, and sending him rolling through the water. In a second, Cormac found himself covered in a swarm of silver-armoured selkies, fighting to hold him down. Had his distraction worked? He couldn’t see all the way to the gate any more, but he prayed that Lisbetta had made it through, made it to somewhere Anja could not reach her.

  He tried one more punch, but there were too many guards. They wrapped him in some sort of magical rope, the fibre burning where it touched his skin. His arms were tied tightly to his sides, and his ankles bound so that he could barely walk even with the support of the water. To either side, through the expressionless ranks of the selkie guards, he could just about make out the faces of his so-called supporters. So much for their loyalty.

  The guards marched him through a part of the palace he had never seen before, windowless and dark. The air felt colder here, and the echoing corridors uncannily quiet. He was thrust into a tiny cell, lit by the tiniest slit window. The guards tugged away most of the ropes, but left his hands bound.

  “What’s happening? What am I supposed to have done?” Cormac asked, but they said nothing. The last guard slammed the door hard on the way out, and Cormac heard the key turn in the lock.

  He realised his mistake. The selkies disliked Anja, yes. They wanted another leader. But they were also afraid of Anja, and so they would continue to obey her out of fear. Whatever defiance they might show from time to time, she still controlled them utterly. How could he have misunderstood so terribly? How could he have ever thought a selkie queen would be so easy to manipulate?

  Cormac had been imprisoned before, both by the law and the pirates. But this time was a first in one key way - he hadn’t seen it coming. He had made no preparations, no plans for escape. How had Anja learnt what he intended? How had she managed to act first? He hadn’t imagined for a moment that she would take the initiative.

  He slumped against the stone wall, his bound hands dangling limply between his legs. They’d left the knife hanging at his belt, the glint of silver at the corner of his eye a mocking reminder that he was no threat to anyone. Much use it was when the magical ropes held his hands completely frozen. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to calm the panic that whirled around his mind and sent needles stabbing through his veins. How could he possibly escape from this place?

  Time passed - perhaps an hour, perhaps less - and by this point Cormac could barely breathe properly. His mind raced so much that it became almost a physical pain, every part of his body aching with the confusion.

  “You will let me see him.”

  A familiar voice, faint but clear through the stone walls, jerked Cormac out of his half-dream. Gunnar.

  A key scraped in a lock, but the door didn’t open.

  “A few moments only, and we stay with you,” the guard warned. “Her majesty doesn’t want to take any risks.”

  “Are you prepared to argue with me?” Gunnar asked sharply.

  There was a moment of silence. Cormac could practically feel the guard’s hesitation as he weighed the anger of the queen against the terrifying and more immediate anger of the magician.

  “I’m sure an exception can be made,” the guard said at last. Had he left? Cormac almost forgot to breathe, he was listening so intently, and then he cursed himself for foolishness. Of course he heard no footsteps on the stone. Selkies did not walk.

  When Gunnar opened the door and slipped into the room, he was alone. He shut the door behind him and gently lowered himself down onto the floor until he sat level with Cormac.

  “How did she know?” Cormac asked.

  “You imagined that you could act against Anja and not have her learn of it? You’re more foolish than I realised,” Gunnar said mildly. “But that is not why I am here. I have important information to share with you.”

  “This is no’ the time for a lesson,” Cormac began, but at one piercing gaze from Gunnar’s pale blue eyes, he fell silent.

  “I am far older than anyone here realises,” Gunnar said. “A few suspect, yes, but none can be sure. I have simply been here for as long as any memory stretches. I have served the selkie crown since its very first queen, hundreds of years ago, and I was not a young man then.”

  “What are ye?” Cormac asked, trying not to stare, the panic bubbling back up.

  Gunnar laughed, a harsh sound that echoed oddly in the tiny cell.

  “I am human, just like you,” he said. “But magic has preserved my life for longer than most men could even imagine. It is five hundred years, almost to the day, since I offered my allegiance as court magician to the first queen of these northern seas. I have served the selkie crown ever since.”

  “But if ye are human, how did ye come tae be here? How can you survive?” Cormac asked. He paused for a moment. “How can I survive?”

  “Magic can achieve many things,” Gunnar said enigmatically. “But, in some ways, my story is simple enough. I fell in love with a selkie woman, as you did, and I followed her when she left. But the woman I loved was faithless and fickle. She betrayed me and married another. By then, there was nothing for me to return to above the waves, and so I stayed, bitter and angry.”

  Cormac frowned. Gunnar’s tone, intense and powerful, suggested this was a very important story. But what did it mean? How could it help him?

  “Patience,” Gunnar said, once again seeming to read Cormac’s thoughts. “My story is nearly at an end. Inspired by the hope that my queen brought all of us, I learnt to serve the selkie crown, but for centuries I still did not heal. Until suddenly, unexpectedly, I fell helplessly in love with a strong, beautiful woman. She loved me in return. But we were too late. She was already married, and she could not choose me over duty.”

  Duty. The word tugged at something deep in Cormac’s memory, and he stared at Gunnar in slow, dawning realisation. He opened his mouth to speak, but Gunnar cut him off.

  “I see you already understand, but let me finish. I am Anja and Lisbetta’s true father. The selkie lord who married and betrayed their mother, the man who Lisbetta hated and Anja feared, was no family of theirs.”

  “Ye’re Lisbetta’s father?” Cormac shook his head, almost unwilling to accept the news. How could Lisbetta, so wild and free, so proud of her selkie identity, be half-human? How could Anja? He certainly could not imagine Gunnar as their father. But now, as he looked closer, he started to see something of Lisbetta in the man’s face - the shape of his eyes, the set of his jaw. Could it be true?

  “Neither of them have ever suspected the truth,” Gunnar continued. “Their mother saw this secret as her weakness. Her shame. But it is time for the truth to be known. This will change both of my daughters, Cormac, but it will change Anja most of all. It will alter everything she thinks she knows about herself, and about the human world.”

  “She will be furious that ye kept it from her,” Cormac said, a slow chill building in his limbs at the thought of Anja’s rage.
>
  “The time has never before been right,” Gunnar said dismissively. “But there is more I must tell you. First, you must know that I have more magic, human magic that I have not yet shown you. I abandoned it when I chose a life in the sea, but it is not yet beyond my reach. And secondly, Cormac, I must explain to you the parts of the puzzle you have failed to grasp. Anja can use her ice magic, the magic that froze those tears into pearls, not because she is stronger than any other selkie, but because she is colder. Her heart is frozen, and so her magic is hard as ice. Find a way to crack her heart, and those pearls will melt back into tears.”

  “And then? What will happen tae the tears?”

  “They will be Lisbetta’s again,” Gunnar said softly. “And she will have the chance to decide her own fate.”

  “What should I do?”

  Gunnar sat for a moment, staring intently into Cormac’s eyes through the soft haze of the dark water.

  “First, we free you,” he said at last. “Then we retrieve my magic and confront Anja. It will take more than just the truth to melt her heart.”

  “Ye can get me out of here?” Cormac asked.

  Gunnar smiled, and Cormac saw a flash of Lisbetta’s mischief. The magician brushed his fingers lightly over Cormac’s bound wrists, and the ropes fell loosely to the ground, their magic spent.

  “Now, you are under official arrest, with the entire palace ordered to prevent your escape,” Gunnar warned. “Getting you outside the walls will be no easy task.”

  They laid their magic carefully, layers of spells placed delicately one over the other. First, an illusion of Gunnar leaving, waving a farewell at the guard, who resumed his post outside the door. The the true Gunnar slipped out to stun the same guard, using the blunt force of his magic as delicately as a fine knife, a second of power sending the guard crumpling to the ground in a deep sleep. The second guard swung around in shock, but Cormac was waiting with another burst of magic, less subtle but just as effective.

  Then came the next layer of illusions, covering their faces with magical masks to imitate the faces of the sleeping guards. Silver armour appeared all over Cormac’s body, although he felt no weight at all. He fought back a shiver of fear and tried to relax into the magic that rolled all over his skin.

  The two of them swam back through the palace wearing the faces and bodies of their guards, Cormac clinging to his magical spear with palms that sweated even in the cool water. In this armour, they were almost invisible, lords and ladies passing by without a second glance. Cormac tried hard to relax, to let the noise and bustle swirl about him, but the fear of discovery left him feeling sick and shaken.

  Almost out of the palace. They passed one final corner, turning into the large corridor that Cormac recognised as leading to the gateway courtyard. Never before had it stretched out so far before him. Had it always taken so long to reach the gateway?

  And there, sweeping towards them, was Anja herself, her long blonde hair flowing out behind her like a silver cloak, the silver of her many weapons sparkling against the white of her gown. Cormac lost his rhythm, splashing awkwardly in the water for a second before he regained his composure. Anja was almost upon them, her face distant and cold as she stared rigidly ahead. And then she was gone, brushing past as if there had been no one there. Suddenly, Cormac felt an unexpected flash of sympathy. Had Gunnar once looked like that, at his most lonely and hurt? He tried to hang onto his anger, to fan it back into hatred, but he could already feel it slipping away. What a tragic life, for all its apparent luxury and power. The young queen needed someone who understood. She needed her father.

  Cormac and Gunnar passed out of the palace with no more interruptions, the gateway guard waving them freely through. They slipped off the cleared road and into the seaweed forest, letting the city walls fade out of sight.

  “Lisbetta,” Cormac called, desperately reaching for the magical thread that must still be there. Could she hear him at this distance? What if she was already long gone?

  He tried again, Gunnar lending his own strength to the magic. This time, Cormac felt an answering tug, and then he heard a chattering noise drifting through the water.

  “Lisbetta!” he called again, thrashing about in the water to try and attract her attention. She shot through the thick seaweed, her seal body quivering in excitement - and then froze when she saw him, staring at him with terrified dark eyes.

  Cormac stared back at her for a second, then realised what had happened.

  “The magic, Gunnar!”

  Gunnar laughed, an unexpected sound in the quiet of the forest, and waved a hand. Cormac felt the magic dissolve from his body, leaving him with his own face and his own ragged old clothes. Lisbetta flung herself at him, rubbing all over him, and he laughed as he hugged her tightly.

  “It’s good tae see ye,” he said, kissing the side of her head. “But I need tae leave ye alone wi’ Gunnar for a moment. He has something important tae tell you.”

  He drifted away from them, staring through the seaweed at the tops of the palace walls, just tall enough to peek over the waving weeds. High above, the shadows of giant ice floes darkened the surface of the water. Cormac wondered how he could defeat Anja’s own ice.

  He was free, thanks to Gunnar - but could he really trust the old magician? Anja was now on the other side of high, well-defended walls, and Cormac had no idea how she could be forced into anything. Would the truth be enough?

  Cormac stood at the door to Anja’s throne room, Gunnar on his left side, and Lisbetta on his right. The corridor behind them lay empty, the guards all sleeping in the courtyard outside. Cormac could feel Lisbetta shaking beside him, and he felt an overwhelming wave of pity. This was all too much for her - first the news about her father, and then the realisation that her own sister had become so cold.

  The time had come. They were ready to force Anja into action. Lisbetta must be freed.

  Ten guards stood between them and the door, spears lowered, faces hidden beneath silver helmets.

  “Step aside,” Gunnar warned, but the guards began to swim forwards, picking up speed as they came closer.

  Gunnar threw his arms wide and a wave of magic rushed out, so strong that Cormac could actually see the blue and silver streaking across the corridor. It slammed into the guards, sending them tumbling to the floor and throwing the door open in the same breath.

  Cormac stepped forwards, over the unconscious guard, and into a room that looked nothing like the throne room he remembered.

  Anja sat on her throne as before, but she was now wrapped in thick white furs, the long strands drifting softly in the water. Everything in the room had been decorated in silver and blue, the rich colours and gold all gone. Her courtiers surrounded her, all covered in silver weapons and dripping with sapphire jewellery. Even the old dolphin mosaics were gone, replaced with elaborate patterns in silver and blue. Lisbetta whimpered softly, and Cormac felt a stab of anger. This was deliberate. How dare Anja make her sister so upset - and so afraid?

  “How did you escape?” Anja snapped, swooping up a few inches above her dais to glare down at Cormac. He glared back, refusing to flinch.

  “We have important things to discuss, Anja.”

  “Do not speak to me like that!” Anja shouted at him. She was closer now, but still out of reach. Was she afraid of him? He felt a sudden lightness in his chest. Perhaps he had a chance after all. Behind Anja, her courtiers watched, interest in their eyes, but no fear. Cormac knew that none of them would bother to defend their queen until they knew how this would turn out. Worthless cowards, the lot of them. Even Anja did not deserve such false friends. Did any selkies care about someone other than themselves?

  “I have no interest in talking to you,” Anja hissed, her gaze boring into Cormac’s face like ice-cold needles. She jerked her hand, and Cormac felt the water freeze around him as a spike of ice shot towards him. Time seemed to slow as he watched the point coming closer, moving too fast for him to duck.

  Gunnar
lunged forward, a wave of his hand sending the ice spike flying to the side, twisted and broken. Anja lifted her hand again, but Gunnar was not finished. The ice spike twisted again, spinning back around. Anja scrambled backwards as her own magical ice flew towards her. She tripped, falling into her chair, and the bent ice shard slammed into her, pinning her to the silver throne by her neck. She clawed at it, gasping hard, but Gunnar kept his hand raised, and the ice did not move.

  “Let me free!” Anja demanded, her thoughts shaking and full of fear. Cormac stared up at her white face and desperate hands, and remembered his own terror. He thought of the moment his brother Liam had vanished below the surface of the ocean, leaving him alone and afraid. He saw that same fear on Anja’s face as she grasped at the ice around her neck. What must it have been like for her, left alone to rule an entire kingdom of these cruel, uncaring selkies? With her mother dead and her sister gone, she had no one to trust. No wonder she had taken such drastic steps. What might he have done, for the chance to keep Liam?