by Ann Gimpel
Raene sank to the cushion next to Aegir’s, picked up her glass, and said, “Slainte!”
He clicked his glass against hers and drank. She did as well. When she dug into her meal, she realized how long it had been since she’d eaten. It was a challenge to take her time, not plow through her meal like a pig before a trough.
“These are amazing, lass.” He waved a corner of a biscuit at her before popping it into his mouth.
“They did come out rather well,” she said. “Perhaps the magical oven added something to them.”
Aegir snorted. “Aye, well if that’s so, it never happens to what I place inside. I’ll have to have a chat with…well, with something.”
Raene got up and retrieved two more biscuits, dropping one on each of their plates when she returned. “There’s so much I want to know, it’s hard to pick a place to begin. First off, what does ocean-marked mean?”
He angled his head to one side. “And who mentioned that phrase to you?”
Raene clenched her jaw, preparing herself for the worst, for hearing it was the curse she’d feared. “Mum. She told me I’d been ocean-marked after my first shift.”
Aegir nodded. “’Tis a good thing. It means the Selkies have put their mark on you, and that ye’ll feel an urge to return to the sea.”
Breath swooshed from her. “Is that all? Can it be so simple?”
“Aye, lass. What did ye suspect it meant?”
Raene rolled her eyes. “Because Mum said it, and she was obviously upset about me shifting, I assumed it was some kind of curse.” She took a measured breath. “Moving on here. Do you live beneath the sea?”
“Aye. My pod has a palace of sorts on the western side of Scotland a few leagues off the Hebrides chain. Because ’tis underwater, it’s simple enough to add to it if we require additional space. Coral is verra accommodating.”
“It’s made of coral?” Wonder filled her, along with a desire to see a Selkie palace.
“And stone. And magic.”
“How does that work?” She leaned closer. “Not the magic but traveling back and forth to the surface to breathe.”
“The magic takes care of that part. Whilst we’re within the palace, or even close enough to see it, we’re able to breathe underwater.”
Raene chewed and swallowed the last bit of fish on her plate and considered what he’d said. “Does it work that way for all Selkie pods?”
“Aye, and for other magical creatures who visit us. Until early today, we had a small boy who’d been with us since his birth.”
Understanding ran through her. “The child I saw in your mind. The one you…” She faltered. “All I could see is he’s no longer with you. Did he die?”
“Nay, lass. Although, that might have been easier. His father came for him. ’Twas part of a bargain struck long ago. He would spend his first two years with us—and his mum.”
“I did see a woman. Surely, she went with the boy and his da.”
Aegir shook his head but remained silent.
“How could any mother—?” she began.
He placed a hand over one of hers. “Doona ask, lassie. Some secrets must remain so.”
“You’re still sad. You’d rather have kept the boy. Raised him.”
“All true, but not within my control. What else would ye like to know?”
She drained the rest of what had turned out to be a fine, old brandy from her glass and held it out for more. “Why do Selkies prefer to be in their seal form?”
“’Tisn’t a short answer for that one.”
She leaned back, balancing on an elbow. “We have time. At least I think we do. Unless the Druids sound the alarm bells again.”
“I propose a trade.” His blue-green eyes twinkled.
Her body came alive, intensely aware of how close he was to her. Not that she’d been immune to his raw sensuality before, but something in his tone got her blood flowing. “What kind of trade?”
“Once I’m done, I would hear about you.”
Raene held a neutral expression, but disappointment cut deep. She got hold of herself fast. What had she hoped for, anyway? That he’d be so overcome by her charms he’d want to bed her? He was the Selkie king for chrissakes. He probably had hot-and-cold running women vying for the opportunity to share his bed.
“If ye’d rather not—”
“I’ve nothing to hide,” she said. “And my story’s not as interesting as all that. Of course, I’ll tell you what little there is to know about me.” Her tone was clipped, not quite as warm as she would have liked, and he shot her a look she couldn’t interpret.
He tipped the decanter into his own glass. After a quick trip to the ledge for more fish and another biscuit, he returned to his spot next to her. Raene reminded herself he was only here for now, and perhaps tomorrow. Once he’d escorted her to Gregor’s pod, he’d walk out of her life.
And she’d eventually return to her shop in Wick. While she never actually looked forward to picking up the threads of her human existence, this time it would be far harder.
Och, I need to get over myself.
“Is aught amiss?” he asked.
“Nothing at all. Now, about why most Selkies remain in the sea…?” She left her thought unfinished to encourage him. This was the best opportunity she was likely to have to find out about her seal nature, and she’d be a fool to waste it mooning over what could never be.
He set his empty plate aside and arranged his cushions so he faced her squarely, rather than the fire. “Unlike other varieties of Shifters, Selkies are born in seal form in the sea…”
Chapter 7
Aegir didn’t want to intrude, but it was hard to hold himself back from scanning Raene’s mind. Something had changed in her a few moments before, but he had no idea what spawned the alteration in her mood. Perhaps he could risk a quick examination if she was more focused on the words flowing from his mouth than on his actions.
It was a pretty big “if.” He’d have to wait and see. She’d asked a question that cut to the heart of what it meant to be a Selkie.
“Not only are we born in the sea. Were it not for the Celts, we’d have remained there, rarely if ever bothering with our human bodies.” He took a breath and a deep swallow of brandy before continuing. “The Celts are a meddling lot, and they’ve done naught but grow worse with the passage of time. Long ago, when humans still believed in magic, they worshipped the Celtic gods, and the pantheon drew a part of their power from that adulation.”
Raene propped an elbow on one knee and supported her chin with a hand. “Hold up a moment. I had no idea the gods were anything beyond the purview of mythology. Beyond that, I wasn’t born in the sea, but at home. Or so I’ve been told.”
Aegir smiled. “Ye were there, but not in such a way as to remember the conditions of your birth. Your mum, she was half human?”
“Aye, she couldn’t shift, and the lack always caused her sorrow.”
“I ken her pain. The sea would have sung to her, called her, yet no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn’t have been able to produce the transformation. Ye may not know this, but ye were born in the sea, and ye were a seal when born.”
“But how could she have raised me? Fed me?”
“I dinna say ye remained in your seal body. Like as not, ye shifted as soon as she cradled you in her arms. Betimes, it happens so quickly, she may not have realized ye began as a seal. Childbirth is hard, painful. When a woman is immersed in birth pains, she misses things. Plus, she couldna see beneath the water’s surface.” He hesitated, unsure whether to add what had to be true, but Raene was astute and sensed his omission.
“You left something out. Tell me.”
“Gregor must have been there. He’d have had the magic to coax you from your mum’s womb, and the power to ensure ye could shift to human and back again.”
Pain inscribed small lines at the corners of Raene’s eyes. Aegir wanted to comfort her but didn’t know how. He’d given her new information, but
she’d have to come to terms with it on her own. Nothing he could say would ease her path.
“So he was there, but then he left?” She turned her liquid gaze full on him.
“Aye. If not him, then the Selkie who served as midwife for their pod, and I doubt it would have been her since Gregor had many reasons to hide his dalliance from his subjects. How old were you when ye first remember shifting?”
“Eighteen.”
Surprise shot through him. “That old? ’Tis unusual.”
“I wouldn’t know. Mum wasn’t nearly as excited about it as I thought she’d be. She’d always wanted to become a seal, so I assumed she’d be thrilled for me. Instead, it was the beginning of the end of our relationship.” Raene hesitated. “When she was dying, she told me she was afraid for me. Worried that me shifting might attract Gregor’s attention.”
“I can see how it would be a concern.”
“Enough about Mum and me. Go on.” She took a swig from the brandy, a determined expression on her face. She’d kicked this door open and would see it through. The respect he was developing for her took a giant leap forward. Selkies tended to look down on the ones who chose humankind over the Sea Folk, but Raene had substance—and courage.
And she’d never had anyone to teach her about her Selkie blood. Until now.
It took him a moment to remember where he’d left off with the Celtic gods. “Aye, lass. So the Celts grew restless. They’d have left Earth if aught better awaited them on the borderworlds. Many did leave, but most returned. There are a few exceptions, like Arianrhod.”
“Which one is she?”
“The virgin huntress who rules the moon and tides.” Aegir took a measured breath. “Turns out the virgin part is so much tripe, but ’tis neither here nor there. She has a special world within this one named Caer Sidi. ’Tis where she cares for the moon and ensures its pull on the tides.”
Raene closed her teeth over her lower lip but remained silent. Aegir was grateful. He didn’t want to lie to her, and he wasn’t sure exactly what she’d seen in his mind. She did say she’d seen a woman, so perhaps an image of Arianrhod had been there, along with Jonathan and Angus. Not that she’d know the woman with floor-length silver hair and mismatched eyes clad in hunting leathers was the virgin huntress.
“The Celts were lonely,” he went on. “Even absent human prayers and offerings, they had power to burn, and they coaxed us from the sea to have magical beings to talk with beyond themselves. Other Shifters exist, but their magic pales in comparison with ours.”
“Is that why they’re human most of the time, and hardly ever in their animal bodies?”
He nodded. “Have ye met any?”
A soft smile played around her mouth. At least she didn’t look as if she’d been gutshot the way she had after he’d delivered the news about her da. “Aye. I grow restless sometimes and wander the moors beyond Wick. When I’m there during the dark hours, I’ve met wolves who aren’t wolves, hawks and eagles who were more than they appeared as well.
“Did ye ever speak with them?”
“Nay. But I sensed what they were. Magic shimmered around them, and if I looked from a certain angle, I could see their human shape. I have another question for you.”
“Go ahead.” He steeled himself, hoping it wasn’t about Arianrhod. He’d been an idiot to use her as an example.
“When did all this happen, with the Celts?”
Her question was easy, and many degrees removed from anything personal. Relief coursed through him. “Long ago. Magical folk are tied to the makings of the world.”
“It couldn’t have been all that long. Humans only stopped believing in magical goings-on around the middle of the nineteenth century or thereabouts.”
“True enough, but the Celts laid the groundwork for controlling the Sea Folk a thousand years before by seducing our women.” He sucked in a tense breath. “We produce very few children. Part of that is because we are so long-lived, but we are also not very fertile. In any one pod, ’tisn’t unusual for a century to pass without any births. The Celts promised us children, and matings with them did produce new Selkies, but Selkies with slightly different magic.”
“Makes sense. From a genetic perspective,” Raene murmured.
“Aye, but no one knew about such things back then. The infusion of their particular brand of magic made it far harder to refuse them when they called us from the sea. The song of the sea is strong, but so is Celtic power. In the end, ’twas simpler to acquiesce to the Celts, even though it meant more time on land. The transition dinna happen all at once, ye ken. But over hundreds of years, we gradually ended up where we are today.”
He paused, turning something over in his mind before adding, “They havena been nearly as present these past fifty years—give or take a few. At least not with my pod. We’ve seen so little of them, I was wondering where they’d gotten themselves off to.”
“Intriguing. What else would I have learned if I’d grown up in a Selkie pod?”
“How to employ your power. The history of all other types of magic wielders.” A thought occurred to him. “Ye said ye’ve seen the trees rise in defense afore. When did that happen?”
A conflicted expression marred her even features. “At the time, I didn’t understand.” She looked at the glass she held rather than at him. “I was taken captive by a man who knew about how vulnerable we are without our skins.”
A guttural noise, more growl than anything else, burst from him. “Tell me where to find him. I’ll—”
Raene waived him to silence. “He’s dead. I was wife to him for close to fifty years, and he wasn’t an evil man—other than how he came by me in the first place. He told me he’d watched me enter and leave the sea for months before deciding he couldn’t live without me. It was only then he visited a local hedge witch, and she’s who gave him an incantation to locate my skin.”
“Still. It wasna right. If he wasna already dead, I’d hasten his egress from Earth. How’d ye escape?”
“I wrested secrets from him whilst he lay dying—including where he’d hidden my pelt. My magic had weakened greatly without it, yet he was so ill, what little I had left was sufficient.”
She blew out a breath. “You’d asked about the trees. When I didn’t have time to change bodies and play in the sea—or it was broad daylight—I’d taken to swimming in a loch close to where I’d hidden my skin. Willows grew thick about the water as they’re wont to do. Though I remained human to swim, the nearness of my skin was reassuring. One day, I felt a disturbance from the far side of the loch. It was horrible, and my connection to my pelt blew up in front of me.”
Aegir moved a hand to her arm. “Go on, lass.”
“I was stupid. I should have run, but instead I swam as fast as I could for where I’d left my skin. By then, the trees had closed around Rolf, and I couldn’t sense my pelt at all.”
“I’m surprised the trees dinna kill him.”
“They would have, except the witch must have prepared him—or else he figured how to outsmart them himself. By then, he’d built a barrier around my pelt, crafted from Black Magic. The type wicked witches employ. And he’d hidden himself within its folds as well. The trees couldn’t penetrate it. Judging from what I saw today with the Fae, Rolf must have constructed his safety net before the trees attacked.”
“Ye said ye couldna sense your pelt.”
Raene bobbed her head. “Aye, but it had to be in the middle of that stinking, hideous dark magic. For one thing, that was where I’d left it. I’d heard stories of Selkies’ skins being taken, but I had no idea how long it would be before I was whole again.”
“What happened next?”
She shrugged. “Eventually, the trees retreated. It was only later I learned if I’d shared my blood with them, they’d have tried harder to protect me. I raced to Rolf, except then I didn’t know his name, and demanded my skin. I punched him and kicked him and bit him, but he sloughed it off and dragged me away from there to
his village. It was a different one from mine, not that anyone would have stepped forward to help even if they’d known what transpired. It was the 1800s, and women had no rights at all.”
“I’m so sorry.” His heart beat harder. Trapped between outrage and horror at what she’d suffered, he’d have done anything to erase her pain. Had she been part of a pod, they’d have hunted for her when she didn’t return. And they’d have moved heaven and earth to locate her skin and see her reunited with it.
She sat straighter and pulled her arm out of his grip. “Don’t be. He was kind to me—once I stopped trying to run away.” She skinned her lips back from her teeth. “I’d have poisoned him in those early months, except then I’d never have found out where my skin was.”
“But you knew,” he protested. “It was next to that loch.”
“Same as I thought, but ’twas the first place I looked when I ran away, and it wasn’t there any longer. Or perhaps the dark power had finished its job hiding it from me.” She turned her hands palms up. “All I know is ’twas in a far different spot when I finally reclaimed it. The Black enchantment must have run its course because my pelt called to me once I was close.”
Aegir shook his head. “I suspect the enchantment was linked to Rolf. Once he was gone, it would have departed as well.”
“He wasn’t quite dead when I found it. I had to make certain he’d told me the truth before I hastened his death.” An uncomfortable expression rippled over her even features. “He was dying, anyway. I didn’t rob him of more than a few days of life.”
“No one is finding fault, lass. Least of all me.” Aegir extended support, letting it flow from his mind into hers. “He deserved far worse than he received. If ye’d been part of a pod, they’d have punished him for his crimes.”
“I guess those are things I would have learned if I’d grown up with someone who knew about Selkie magic—or magic at all.” Her words were wistful.
“Aye. But ’tis never too late to begin. Power runs strong in you, and ye’ve an intuitive grasp of how to maximize it.”