The Selkie Spell (Seal Island Trilogy)

by Sophie Moss

  The familiar voice so close to her ear had her blood running cold. She opened her mouth to scream, but the knife point cut into her side, and no sound came out.

  “Tara?” Kelsey called out, her small voice snatched up by the wind.

  Tara heard Kelsey’s frightened voice, even further away now, as another swell of people slammed into them and the man holding the knife to her back pulled her away from the crowd, shoving her into a small powerboat.

  “Drive,” Philip seethed, pushing her behind the wheel. “And don’t stop until I tell you to.”

  Chapter 22

  Kelsey pushed through the crush of people, all heading in the other direction. “Tara?” she called out, trying to see through the sea of legs to the end of the pier. The dark waters churned, knocking the smaller boats against the pilings. Her hands reached blindly for the line mooring the ferry to the pier and she followed it, end over end, to the edge of the pier. Hips and backpacks jostled her, but she clutched the wet rope, searching the faces for Tara’s.

  “Kelsey?” the ferry captain shouted down from the bow of the boat. “Is that you?”

  Kelsey squinted up at the captain and nodded. “It’s me.”

  “What are you doing down here? Where’s your father?”

  “I’m looking for Tara!”

  The captain scanned the thinning crowd and then looked back at Kelsey. “I haven’t seen her.”

  “But she was just here!”

  “Maybe she went for a swim,” the captain joked, but his smile faded as Kelsey raced to the edge of the pier and peered down into the water. “I was just kidding, love.”

  “I don’t understand!” Kelsey’s eyes combed the surface of the harbor. Powerboats zipped in and out of the channel, but she couldn’t make out Tara in any of them. “Where did she go?”

  “Do you want me to walk you up to the pub?” Finn asked, worried now.

  “I can’t go back there!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because!” Kelsey felt for her necklace, for the pendant dangling from the chain around her neck. ‘I want you to stay by my side this weekend, but if by some chance we get separated, I want you to blow on this as hard as you can so I can find you.’

  Lifting the whistle to her lips, Kelsey started to blow.

  ***

  “I expected more from you, Sydney,” Philip said. “You’ve never been very bright, but I expected more from you than this.”

  “What do you mean?” Keep him talking. If she could keep him talking maybe she could drive far enough toward something. A spit of land. A boat full of fishermen.

  “A waitress?” He dragged the tip of the knife down her arm. “On a rundown island in the middle of the north Atlantic?”

  The boat bounced over the choppy surface of the ocean. “Chef.” The wind whipped at her hair, slapping like wet ropes into her eyes. “I was working as a chef.”

  “Really?” The blade stopped moving. “I never knew you liked cooking.”

  It was so wide, so vast—the cold sapphire water spreading out in every direction around them. “I didn’t either.”

  “Are you any good at it?”

  “No.”

  Philip laughed quietly. “You were never very good at much, were you?”

  She edged the wheel, just the slightest twitch to the right. If she could distract him—keep him focused on her and away from the water for long enough—maybe she could get to the Skelligs. There were always fishermen trolling the north side of the Skelligs. “I was good at being your wife.”

  “You were never very good at that either, I’m afraid.”

  “No?” Another slight twitch, almost imperceptibly, to the right.

  Philip shook his head, sadly. “I tried to teach you. To help you learn. But you weren’t a quick study. It always took you a while to catch on. To get it.”

  “I tried, though.” Tara kept her eyes on the ocean, kept her gaze focused on that single spot on the horizon where the rocks were starting to form. “I tried to learn.”

  “Not hard enough, Sydney.”

  Tara felt the tip of the knife prick her skin, and she tightened her hands on the wheel. “Then why did you keep me around for so long?”

  Philip’s voice hardened. “Because you are my wife.”

  “You could have divorced me. You could have found someone better.”

  “Divorce?” His eyes went dark. “I don’t believe in divorce.”

  “But if—”

  “You are my wife. You bound yourself to me—until death do us part—on our wedding day.”

  She had pushed it too far. She had taken it one step over the line. Just like she always did. He was right. She never learned. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know what you meant,” Philip said softly, his voice cold as ice. “You didn’t miss me, did you?” The tip of the blade curved over the neckline of her shirt.

  The boat lurched, pounding faster over the churning surf. She flinched when the knife trailed over her exposed skin and he smiled, enjoying her fear.

  “Tell me you missed me, Sydney.”

  Her knuckles went white on the wheel when his hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back, exposing her throat to the blade.

  “Tell me.”

  Tara jerked the wheel and he flew back, his head banging against the side of the boat. She spun the boat around, pushing the throttle up as fast it as it would go, racing back toward the island. She watched the village come into view, praying he’d stay under so she could get back to the harbor, so she could call for help. When he started to stir, she yanked the wheel again. But he came up in a crouch, shoving off the side of the boat where his skin had broken and blood dripped over the white fiberglass. “That wasn’t very nice of you, Sydney.”

  “I didn’t miss you,” she breathed. “I would rather die than be with you.”

  His eyes narrowed to slits as he crossed the middle line of the boat.

  Her eyes cut to her cottage, to the sliver of beach underneath. They were close enough to swim. Close enough to get to the beach. She jerked the wheel, pointing the bow straight at a jagged outcropping of rocks.

  ***

  “Kelsey!” Caitlin ran onto the pier, racing to the end where Kelsey stood, blowing as hard as she could into the whistle. “Kelsey, what’s the matter?” She grabbed the whistle, pulling it out of her mouth. “What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be in the pub with your father!”

  “I can’t find Tara!”

  “What are you talking about? She’s in the pub.”

  “No she’s not! She told me to stay where I was and blow on my whistle if we got separated. That’s what I’m doing!” She reached for the whistle again but Caitlin closed her hand over it, stopping her.

  “Kelsey’s right,” the ferry captain said, his gravelly voice edged with worry as he climbed back out of the cabin. “I just called up there and she’s not in the pub.” He looked hard at Caitlin. “The police are looking for her.”

  “What?”

  “We ran away together,” Kelsey cried. “And then she disappeared!”

  Caitlin felt the knot of cold dread form in the pit of her stomach. “What do you mean she disappeared?”

  “We were right here!” Kelsey pointed to the spot where they were standing. “We were going to take a boat ride somewhere. But she wouldn’t tell me where.”

  “Why?” Caitlin grabbed her small shoulders. “Why were you going to take a boat ride?”

  “I don’t know.” Kelsey shook her head, her curls bouncing from side to side. “We were upstairs in my room and we heard this loud noise downstairs and she went to see what it was.”

  “Caitlin,” the captain called down. “We need to talk.”

  “In a minute,” Caitlin answered, looking back at Kelsey’s frightened face. “Keep going.”

  “She came back into my room and we crawled out the window. She said we needed to leave and I needed to trust her and then we came here.” Her eyes searched the
pier, scanning the faces of the tourists wandering the shoreline along the harbor. “And then she just disappeared.”

  “Come on.” Caitlin scooped her up. “We need to find your father.”

  “Caitlin,” the captain barked.

  “What?”

  “Something’s happened. With Dominic.”

  “What? What’s happened?”

  “He’s been arrested.”

  “Arrested?” Caitlin cried.

  The captain nodded. “Just a few minutes ago.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know. Do you know why the police are looking for Tara?”

  “Yes,” Caitlin cried, shifting Kelsey onto her hip and starting to run. “But they’re looking for the wrong person!”

  Kelsey’s fingers bit into Caitlin’s shoulders as she clung to her. “Are they going to take my dad away from me?”

  “No.” Caitlin raced up the hill, weaving in and out of the families and shop-cart vendors. “I won’t let them.”

  “They took my mom away.”

  “I know. But that was different. This is all a big mistake.”

  Tears stung Kelsey’s eyes as they made their way to the pub. “I didn’t mean to run away!”

  “I know.” Caitlin grabbed the door, wrenched it open. “None of this is your fault. We’ll settle this ridiculous situation with your father. And then we’ll find Tara. Cory Walsh,” she shouted, striding into the room. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Dad?” Kelsey cried when Caitlin set her down. She raced over to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

  “It’s okay,” Dominic said, dropping to his knees and wrapping his recently freed arms around his daughter. “Shhh,” he soothed even though every muscle in his body was coiled with tension. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “What the hell is going on here?” Caitlin demanded. “Finn just told me you’d been arrested!”

  “It was a misunderstanding,” Dominic said tightly, looking back at his daughter. “Where’s Tara? I thought she was with you?”

  “She was.” Kelsey pulled back. “She disappeared.”

  “When?” Dominic searched his daughter’s face. “Where were you?”

  “On the pier.”

  Dominic’s eyes snapped up to Cory’s face. “He took her in a boat.”

  Cory reached for his phone, calling for backup.

  “Dominic,” Caitlin asked, her voice edging toward panic. “Where’s Glenna?”

  “Looking for Tara.”

  “Who took her?” Kelsey cried.

  “Caitlin,” Dominic pushed to his feet. “I need you to watch Kelsey. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

  “Who took Tara?” Kelsey cried as Caitlin took her hand, pulling her back. “Dad!” she shouted after him as he ran out the door, jumping as it slapped shut behind him.

  “Caitlin?” she said, lifting her eyes to the older woman’s just as an explosion outside reverberated through the empty barroom. “What was that?”

  ***

  “You’re not coming with me,” Glenna shouted over the engine of the ferry when Sam started untying Donal’s boat from the piling.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You’ve done enough, Sam!” She wrenched the line from his hand. “You tracked Tara to this island! You told her husband where she is! If anything happens to her you are responsible!”

  “Then let me make it right.”

  “It’s too late for that!” Glenna jumped down into the boat. “You can’t just switch sides at the last minute!”

  “Why not?” He jumped down beside her.

  “Because you’ve already played your part! You led him here!”

  “Let me help you. Let me fix this.” Sam grabbed the keys from her hand. “I want a second chance.”

  “At what?”

  “At life. At everything.”

  “It’s too late for that, Sam.”

  “It’s never too late,” he said, shoving the keys in the ignition. But his hand froze on the throttle when the earsplitting crash—like a boat splintering into a thousand pieces—resounded through the harbor.

  ***

  Tara dove from the boat, slicing into the water. The sound of splintering fiberglass rang in her ears as she kicked, swimming deeper away from the wreck. Dark shapes moved beside her, pushing her toward land.

  She surfaced, gasping for air, and dove back under. She tried to veer right, toward the touristy beaches, but creatures moving beside her pushed her left, toward the spit of sand below her cottage.

  She swam faster, harder, trying to outsmart the seals, but they surrounded her, forcing her back to her own more isolated beach. She surfaced again, sucking air into her lungs and cried out when a hand closed over her ankle, dragging her back.

  She kicked at the hand, clawing at the waves. But the ocean swallowed her screams as he held her under. Her lungs burned, desperate for air. She reached for the surface, that glittering blanket of light, and his fingers slid from her ankle.

  She pulled a precious mouthful of air into her lungs just as her head was jerked back and those fingers closed around her throat.

  ***

  Caitlin ran into the street, colliding with Liam. “What was that sound?”

  “A boat,” Liam explained, leaning a hand on the wall of the pub to catch his breath. “A boat crashed into the rocks. I was up at Tara’s cottage and I saw it happen. The whole thing just smashed apart.”

  Caitlin put a hand to her heart. “Was it one of ours?”

  Liam shook his head. “It looked like some kind of fancy power boat. I couldn’t see who was in it.”

  Caitlin looked at the crowds of tourists pointing out to the rocks and the large pieces of the boat floating up to the surface. “Was it heading out of, or into, the harbor?”

  “Into.”

  Kelsey gripped Caitlin’s hand. “Do you think it could have been Tara?”

  “Tara?” Liam’s eyes snapped up to Caitlin’s face. “What do you mean? Isn’t she in the pub?”

  Caitlin shook her head, grimly. “She’s gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Just a little while ago. In a boat, we think.”

  Liam gazed out at the crash, where several smaller boats were gathering around the rocks, searching for survivors. He didn’t have to say what they were both thinking. No one could have survived that impact. His gaze slid back to her face. “Where’s Dom?”

  “He went after her. So did Glenna.”

  “Kelsey,” Caitlin said softly, kneeling down so they were eye to eye. “How would you like to go back inside and pick out a story for me to read to you?”

  “I don’t want to read a story! I want to find Tara!”

  “A lot of people are looking for her right now. Including the police. But it might take some time.” Her gaze slid back to Liam’s. “The best thing we can do right now is stay out of the way.”

  “I’m not going to stay out of the way anymore!” Kelsey twisted out of her reach. “Look what happened last time I stayed out of the way! Tara disappeared and my dad got arrested!”

  Liam grabbed Caitlin’s elbow, pulling her back to her feet. “Dominic got arrested?”

  “Yes. And I’m still a little shady on the why. But it seems to be over now.”

  “He got arrested because he tried to stop them from coming after Tara!” Kelsey shouted. “That’s why she ran away! The police don’t want to help her! They want to take her away! We can’t let them take her away!”

  “We’re not going to let them take her away,” Caitlin said.

  “If they take her away she’ll never find the pelt, the selkie will never be set free, and she’ll never get to marry my dad!”

  “What?” Liam stared at her.

  Kelsey stomped her foot. “Don’t you know anything? Tara’s the descendent! She’s the one who has to find the pelt! And I know where it is! We were going to find it today. Together. But nobody would let me leave the house! And my
dad’s going to ask Tara to marry him. I know because I found the ring. I was only mad about it this morning because he didn’t tell me first!”

  Caitlin dropped back to her knees. Her mind reeled, but she’d deal with one thing at a time. “You know where the pelt is?”

  “Yes!”

  “Where?” Liam demanded.

  “It’s under the roses!”

  When they both stared at her, she blew out a frustrated breath, spun on her heel and ran into the pub. She came back out several seconds later with a book in her hands. “See,” she said, shoving it at Liam. “It’s just like in the story. The prince had to get through a hedge of roses to wake the princess. If my dad is the prince and Tara is the princess, the pelt has to be under the roses.”

  Liam took the book from Kelsey’s hands. His blood hummed as he flipped through the glossy pages, his fingers tracing the picture of the roses creeping like a wall around the castle, around the sleeping princess. It couldn’t be that simple. Could it?

  But wasn’t it always that simple with fairy tales? Wasn’t the simplest clue always hidden, just beneath the surface, never too hard for anyone to find?

  Liam held out his hand to Kelsey. “What are we waiting for?”

  ***

  Cold hands slid away from Tara’s throat and she choked, gasping for air. The muscles in her arms burned. Her legs ached. She could hear his strained breathing behind her, feel his arms wrapping around her stomach now, jerking her back toward him. She kicked, tripping over the sandy bottom.

  The sandy bottom? She fell, stumbling back into the surf. His arm hooked around her, lifting her out of the water, dragging her from the waves. She raked her nails over the hand that clamped over her mouth, the arm cutting off her air. Her eyes searched the deserted beach and she spotted the cliff path, the one that led up to her cottage. She recognized the caves—gaping mouths of slick, black limestone—as he yanked her toward them. She heard the seals barking frantically from the water, calling out to her, as he pulled her up, onto the rocks.