The Selkie Sorceress (Seal Island Trilogy, Book 3)

by Sophie Moss

  Flashes of lightning lit up the water and he spotted a brown tail amidst the mass of mermaids. He edged closer, transfixed by the long golden fins that skimmed back and forth. She looked nothing like any of the other creatures in the water. Her tail was shaped like a mermaid’s, but made of seal-skin.

  Another streak of lightning flashed over the surface, and he shrank back when caught a glimpse of her face. Mermaids shot past him, jostling him. His heart pounded in his ears, but he inched slowly forward until he was directly beneath her.

  A huge merman held Glenna captive. Her arms were twisted behind her back. The tip of his spear was pressed into her side.

  Sam had said the mermaids would take her away and lock her up unless they could find a way to save her. But without the blackthorn crown, they had no way to prove Brigid was innocent. They had no way to prove Moira was behind everything, and all Glenna had ever done was try to stop her.

  This was all his fault. He had lost the crown. He had failed them.

  The merman tightened his grip on Glenna, and her powerful tail beat against the water as a warning.

  Owen narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t let them take her. He wouldn’t let them lock her up because she was different. Brennan had said her kind was forbidden, but that was only because she was too powerful and the mermaids were afraid she would use her powers for evil instead of good.

  They didn’t know Glenna. They didn’t know she had almost died trying to bring his father back, and that, right now, she was sacrificing herself for Brigid, to save all of them from Moira.

  He pushed off the bottom in one swift motion, kicking his flippers up to the surface as fast as he could. He sank his teeth into the arm of the guard. The merman jerked back, releasing Glenna as he cried out in pain.

  Owen flipped, darting away. But a searing pain ripped through him as the spear pierced his side. His vision blurred, wavering as the sea of glittering silver and green melted together. He heard Nuala scream before the dark water took him under.

  GLENNA FELT FLIPPERS brush against her bare stomach. A small shape darted up from the depths, attacking her guard. Her eyes widened when she saw that it was only a young seal. The guard cried out in pain, releasing her.

  Glenna twisted free, peeling away from the merman. Fires broke out over the beach and she saw that Sam still held the crown. His eyes locked with hers.

  Sam knew better than to throw the crown into one of Moira’s fires, Glenna realized. He knew Moira would enchant it and find a way to block the image. He needed her help.

  Her friends’ panicked shouts echoed over the fields. Thick black smoke billowed up from the village. She felt her powers burning inside her, building to a feverish peak. She bowed her head, whispering a chant.

  She flung her arms from the water. Sparks rained from her fingertips as a bolt of white lightning streaked from the sky, setting the crown on fire.

  THE BLACK VINES of the crown unfurled, sparking and igniting in Sam’s hand. White flowers bloomed along the braided branches, snapping off and fluttering into the night. The petals floated up, chased by a trail of black smoke. The crown grew hot, burning to the touch, but he held on.

  Sam stiffened when Moira’s fingers curled around his. He felt the heat sear into his skin—the sizzle of his own flesh burning. The crown unwound, snaking down his forearm.

  He jerked back as it twisted around their joined arms, binding them together. His skin blistered. The vines bit into his skin. He looked up, through the flames. The smoke billowed, the white petals swirled like snow through the smoke as the image began to form.

  Sam fought to free his hand from the vines, from the flames that coiled up between them. But his hand was trapped, stuck to the vine.

  “I can withstand the burns,” Moira hissed. “But you can’t.”

  Sam!” Glenna shouted as the guard tightened his grip, twisting her arms behind her back. “Let go!”

  Whispers and murmurs rose over the waves as an image slowly began to form in the smoke. The selkies edged closer to Brigid, but the mermaids shifted, moving toward the beach.

  “Let go of the crown!” Glenna cried.

  Brigid’s heart pounded as she stared up at the image of a man and woman lying in the grass, their bodies joined in passion. She recognized them—both of them—and her hands grasped the side of the boat for support.

  The picture blurred, reforming until the couple was standing. “I will find Brigid,” the merprince shouted, looking back at Moira with hatred in his eyes. “Wherever she is. I will never stop looking for her. You cannot get away with this.”

  Brigid watched the prince turn, striding away from Moira. But a flash of silver streaked through the smoke. She gasped as the blade caught the prince in the back of his neck. Her sister’s eyes, dark brown only moments ago, glinted green-gold as she pulled the blade free. Moira’s distinctive laugh rang out in the night as the prince crumpled to the ground.

  A collective gasp rose from the mermaids, but the selkies could only stare as the smoke vanished. The flames died, and Sam fell to the sand. Moira stood on the beach, unharmed. She laughed—that same low, hollow, wicked laugh—as the mermaids switched direction, heading straight for her.

  “Sam!” Glenna thrashed against her captor, struggling to get to the man on the beach.

  Thousands of mermaids surfaced, surrounding the beach on all sides. They pointed their spears at Moira, but she only smiled. With a wave of her hand, their spears fell, splashing into the sea. They cried out, their hands burned.

  Tears streaked down Brigid’s cheeks. All these years, she’d thought her lover was calling to her, searching for her. She’d thought it was his voice she’d heard in the river. But it was only the songs of the selkies—her people calling her home.

  Her boat rocked in the roiling sea. For so long, she’d feared the prince thought she’d betrayed him, because she’d never made it past the docks where Moira had said he’d been waiting. But he hadn’t been waiting on the other side of that town. He’d gone to the first meeting spot—the one they’d agreed on.

  The hem of her skirt tore as she shredded it, letting all the grief, all the rage, pour out of her. She blinked through a wall of tears at the frantic tapping on the side of her boat. The selkie with the pale eyes—the one who had met her at the beach in Clifden—carried a small seal by the scruff of his neck.

  He hung limp in the water, and Brigid reached for him, pulling him into the boat. She set him down gently, running her hands over his body to feel for a wound. But he drew in a sharp breath the moment she touched him. His little body arched, writhing against the bottom of the boat.

  She heard the faint crackling of leather peeling away when his skin began to stretch. The mouth of his pelt widened and a patch of black hair appeared, followed by a small child’s head. The skin gave way and the boy wriggled his shoulders through the folds.

  Brigid’s hands shook as she reached down, edging the pelt back, helping the child. The seal-skin suctioned to him, leaving a thin translucent mucus behind as he forced his hands out. He kicked at the pelt, shoving it down his legs.

  Brigid eased back, tearing a long strip of material from her skirt. She wrapped it around his naked body. When he whimpered, clutching at the wound in his side, she fashioned a bandage from the material. “Here,” she said, holding it out to him. “Press this against your side.”

  She grabbed the paddle, driving it into the water when she spotted a man and a woman running onto the far-side of the beach, racing to help the fallen man. “I need to get you to the beach.”

  A pair of blue-gray eyes blinked up at her, and she almost dropped the paddle. She stared back at the child, frozen. Slowly, she reached out, brushing a wet curl back from his forehead. “L-Liam?”

  “No,” the boy whispered, shaking his head. “I’m Owen. My father’s name is Liam.”

  Liam. How was it possible this child looked exactly like her son? Was this another one of Moira’s tricks? Brigid lifted her eyes to the smoke ri
sing up from the village, the flames swallowing the cottages, the pockets of fire burning in the sea.

  She looked back at Glenna, still struggling to free herself from the guard, still desperately trying to reach the man on the beach.

  She gathered Owen into her arms, setting him gently on the seat beside her. She may have lost her sons, but she knew the truth about Glenna now. And no one was going to take her niece away from her.

  Slowly, she pushed to her feet in the curragh. Owen looked up at her as the boat rocked, tipping from side to side. Her sister might not have any real magic. But she did. And she wasn’t afraid to use it.

  She lifted her arms, breathing in the rush of power as the surface of the ocean snapped and stretched. Owen grabbed onto both sides of the boat as the sea surged and a wave—at least three stories high—rushed toward them.

  GLENNA BRACED HERSELF as the huge wave crested, crashing over her. The guard’s fingers slipped and the powerful force of the ocean ripped them apart. She twisted away, diving into the churning sea.

  She spotted Sam floating in the erratic currents. She pushed through the waves, catching him in her arms and hauling his heavy body up to the surface. “Tara!”

  “Glenna?” Tara and Dominic ran toward her voice, combing the crowded seas for her.

  “There!” Kelsey pointed as lightning streaked through the sky. “She has Sam!”

  Dominic rushed into the surf, pulling Sam from her arms. Glenna brushed her tail back and forth in the ocean, treading water helplessly as Dominic carried Sam back to the beach. Wake up, Sam! Wake up!

  Dominic laid him down, and Tara knelt, interlacing her fingers and pumping the heels of her palms into his chest. The island shook, quaking as chunks of earth tumbled into the sea.

  Steam rose from the sand as the water receded, but new fires sprang up as Moira walked toward Glenna. Moira lifted a hand, creating a protective force around her daughter to keep the mermaids at bay. “Let him go, Glenna. He’s mine now. It’s over.”

  “No,” Glenna breathed. She would not believe that. She refused to believe that. “I won’t let you take him.” Her eyes burned into her mother’s. “Sam was right, wasn’t he? It was you. You killed all those men.”

  “I told you,” Moira said. “It was for your own good. I always knew love would weaken you.” She flicked a glance toward Sam, who still lay unconscious on the sand. “You are just like these humans, blinded by their foolish love.”

  “No.” Glenna shook her head. “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I?” Moira walked into the sea, her gold dress snapping around her legs. “I will offer you one last chance, Glenna. Come with me. Rule with me as my daughter.”

  Glenna dug her hands deep into the wet sand. Sam wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead. Her fingers closed around a broken oyster shell. She pulled it up, holding it in her hand underwater, where her mother couldn’t see. “And if I say yes?”

  Moira’s eyes glinted triumphantly. “Let us be rid of this curse, once and for all.”

  Glenna sliced the jagged edge of the oyster shell across her palm. There was only one way to stop her mother now, only one way to save them all.

  Moira held out her hand. Glenna reached for her, but as soon as their fingertips met, her good hand shot out, grasping her mother’s wrist.

  Moira jerked back. “What are you doing?”

  Glenna twisted her mother’s palm toward her, slicing the oyster shell through Moira’s flesh. Moira cried out in pain, but Glenna hung on, clasping her own bleeding palm to her mother’s.

  By mother’s blood

  And spring’s first bud

  I call on thee

  To set this woman free

  From fire to ashes

  Flames to smoke

  Dark magic of the sea

  Feed into me

  By the power of three

  So mote it be

  Moira gasped, her whole body trembling as she crumpled to her knees in the surf. “What have you done?”

  “What I should have done a long time ago.” Glenna squeezed her mother’s hand, watching her face twist in agony as her powers drained. “All my life you led me to believe that love would weaken me, that it would make me vulnerable. But you were wrong,” Glenna said. “Love does not always make people weak. Love can make you strong.”

  How does it feel to be helpless?” Glenna asked the woman trembling in the surf. “To be powerless?”

  Moira crawled toward the beach, her pale blond hair fading back to black, her eyes transforming from green-gold to gray. “Glenna,” she pleaded. “Forgive me.”

  “Forgive you?” Glenna enjoyed watching her mother’s face change shape as lines creased through her smooth skin, revealing her true age.

  “I-I didn’t know what I was doing,” Moira appealed. “It was the curse.”

  The water around Glenna grew black, festering with oil. Her mother’s eels circled her, their bodies brushing against her waist. They were here for her now. “The curse didn’t force you to trick Brigid into an abusive relationship with a man who beat her and their children.”

  “It was a mistake! I didn’t mean to!”

  Glenna lifted her eyes to the burning island, taking in the destruction her mother had caused. “You could have gone after her. You could have helped Brigid escape.”

  “Glenna, please…” Moira trailed off as Liam and Caitlin ran onto the beach, rushing toward the boat Brigid was paddling ashore. Owen sat beside her, clutching his side. Caitlin pulled her injured son into her arms as Liam helped Brigid—a woman he didn’t even recognize as his own mother—from the boat.

  Glenna thought of what Moira had done to these people—Brigid, Caitlin, Liam, Owen, Nuala—all the pain and suffering she had caused in their lives.

  She looked back at Sam, still unconscious despite all Tara’s efforts to revive him. “That’s why you hated me,” Glenna said, as everything clicked into place. “Because I had everything you wanted.” She thought of the men, all the innocent men who’d suffered because they’d fallen in love with her. “You hated that men wanted me, that they couldn’t resist me. Even though you made me what I am!”

  “No!” Moira shook her head, backing away from her. “I was trying to protect you! To keep you from making the same mistakes I did!”

  “The only one you were ever trying to protect was you!” Spirals of black hatred sprouted roots inside Glenna, dark roots that latched onto her soul bleeding it dry of everyone and everything she had ever known. Her friends’ faces began to blur. Their voices, the island, her home faded away until it was only the two of them, until there was nothing inside her but a pulsing black empty heart, begging for revenge.

  And she would have it!

  Skimming her hands through the surf, she summoned the long strands of kelp and seaweed—debris that had been building off this island for days. A powerful wave built, crashing over her mother’s body, trapping her in a net.

  “Glenna!” Moira tore at the slick ropes of sea grass as they twisted around her limbs, wrapping around her neck. “Stop! Please!”

  “Why? Why should I stop?”

  “Because I love you! I have always loved you!”

  “You have never loved me,” Glenna snapped. “The only person you ever loved was my father, and you murdered him because he rejected you. If that is your idea of love, I do not want your love.” She tightened the kelp around her mother’s throat. “I reject you, just like my father did.”

  “Glenna!” A man’s voice—a voice from the beach—broke through the darkness. She kept her palms raised, using magic to hold the kelp to her mother’s throat. But her gaze darted over the beach, searching for the source of the voice.

  “Don’t do this,” the voice rasped. “This isn’t you.”

  The eels hissed. They looped around her waist, edging her away from the voice. But she caught a brief movement through the darkness, the shadow of a man crawling over the sand.

  “Stay away!” she warned. But a flicker o
f doubt crept in as the man pulled himself to his knees.

  Moira writhed, wheezing. Glenna squeezed the kelp.

  “This isn’t you,” the man said again. His voice was deep and scratchy, but she felt somehow drawn to it. “I know you.”

  “What do you know about me?” Glenna demanded, as the contours of the man’s face grew clearer and brighter. A glimmer of recognition sparked somewhere deep inside her, but the black roots dug deeper, forcing him out. “Tell me! What do you know about me?”

  “I know that you are not a murderer.”

  A swell of rage built inside her. Who was this man to tell her who she was? She could be anything she wanted to be now! The sand lifted, swirling into a blinding white storm. She laughed as the islanders—these humans—covered their faces and huddled in fear.

  How weak they are! How fragile! They are nothing like me!

  She laughed as the winds died and sand rained back down to the beach. She watched them shrink away from her, their faces pale and frightened. All of them except for this man—this blond man who continued to crawl on his hands and knees to her.

  Sam. She remembered now. Of course. How many times had she told him to stay away from her? That he should never have gotten involved in this? But he wouldn’t listen! “You fool! Don’t you know what I can do to you? To all of you? If you thought my mother was powerful, you have no idea what I can do!”

  “Magic is a choice, Glenna!” Sam shouted. “You can use it for good or for evil, but it is your choice!”

  Glenna’s eyes narrowed. “Then I choose evil.”

  She set the sand inches from his hands on fire. But instead of backing away from her, Sam pushed to his feet. “You used to use magic to help people, to heal people and protect them! You never used it to hurt anyone!”

  “I’ve changed.”

  “I don’t believe that!” Sam’s knees gave out when a wave broke over the sand. Another man rushed to his side, hauling him back to his feet. Dominic. She recognized him. She recognized all of them now—Liam, Caitlin, Tara, Kelsey, Owen, Brigid.