by Unknown
Elused laughed aloud. “She’s daughter of your heart if not your body, Feidlimid! Guessed right off that your man would’ve hid your skin on this wee skerry, in his sight but not ready to your hand. Did you never think to look there?”
“Did you never think that I might not want to? That I might want to finish the life I chose?”
Elused looked wounded. “Come, put it on.”
Grandma Seeley shook her head. “How’d Kim get out there? And where’s her father, who should have been here long since?”
Elused shrugged. “I carried her—as tenderly as though she were a babe, don’t you worry! And her father, well, I asked the waves to rock him gently for a while, so the lass could say her farewells to us.”
“It’s so soft,” Kim said wonderingly. She unfolded Grandma Seeley’s sealskin. It tumbled nearly to her ankles in folds of silvered golden-brown.
Grandma Seeley shivered. “No. It’s been too long.”
A glint came into Elused’s dark eye. “Then the lass should wear it. A pity it should be lost because its owner died mortal.”
Kim’s eyes got wide. “I could? I could be a selkie like you, and be immortal and beautiful, and not have to worry about mortal stuff anymore?”
“Try it,” said Elused. “Just wrap it about you and jump in the water, there where it deepens.”
“No!” Grandma Seeley cried, but Kim swathed herself in the skin, closed her eyes, and jumped.
The skin tangled about her mortal limbs, as Grandma Seeley had known it would. The old woman kicked off her shoes, dove. and swam to the thrashing, choking girl’s side.
“I’ve got you, Kim. Relax.”
The dragging weight on her arms lifted. Elused was holding Kim up on the other side, and he actually looked frightened.
“I thought it would work. Truly. I meant her no harm.”
“Just take Kim back to shore.”
Kim wrenched away from him, throwing her arms around Grandma Seeley and nearly sinking them both. “No! I’m not letting that liar touch me again.”
Grandma Seeley glared at Elused, who looked abashed. The sealskin twined about her ankles, caressing.
“For the love of the Lady! You’ll all be the death of me. Kim, sweetheart, can you tread water for just a minute? When I come up, put your arms around my neck and hold on.”
She dove, shedding her housedress. The sealskin wrapped itself around her, but she pushed it away from her face. Let the seal’s body carry Kim to shore, but her face, her mind, herself- that would remain human.
Ah, but the water was gentle, welcoming. And in the skin’s embrace, her old bones no longer ached.
She shook the alluring thoughts away and surfaced to pull Kim ashore. Elused followed, more subdued than she’d ever seen him.
“Make yourself useful,” she said once Kim was shivering on the beach. “Go inside and get us both some dry clothes. I can’t manage the steps in this shape, and well-mannered humans don’t traipse about in the altogether.”
Elused took the hint and wrapped his sealskin about his waist before he left the water. Grandma Seeley noted with envy and admiration that he was as young and spry as ever. He returned with a motley assortment of human clothing, and turned his back while Kim dressed herself in a pair of Armel’s old trousers and a sweater. Grandma Seeley looked at the raincoat he’d brought her, shook her head, and wrapped her sealskin, warmer than anything a human could knit, snugly about her shoulders.
“I meant you no ill, Miss,” Elused said to Kim, staring at his feet. “I only thought that if Feidlimid refused her skin it might pass to you. I’ve been a long time alone, and pining for company. Loneliness is a terrible thing for an immortal.”
“Forever’s a long time,” Kim agreed, looking at Grandma Seeley.
“Elused, tell the waters to bring Kim’s father here,” Grandma Seeley said. “He must be nearly frantic.” She pulled on her sealskin, all the way.
“Your muzzle is gray,” said Elused, shocked.
The seal shook her head, and Grandma Seeley’s face showed through. “Now do you see? I married a trapper, a seal-killer, and I got old. Some things can’t be undone. And there’s never been a selkie man on this good green earth who could think beyond his own pleasure. Now leave us both alone.”
She dove, deep into the green-gold waters of the lake. Fish flashed away from her. Weeds brushed against her. Water throbbed in her ears.
No one swam to greet her, or to threaten her. Elused had spoken the truth- he was the only other selkie in these waters, so far from home. The waters were the only thing there to welcome her back to herself.
Her seal body, old though it was, felt better than her woman’s body had in decades. She could swim without stopping, for miles and miles…
She surfaced, and blinked. She’d forgotten just how long a selkie could stay underwater. Kim’s father was already there, on the beach. So was Kim. And so was Elused, stark naked and grinning his most suggestive grin.
Kim’s father swept his daughter up in his arms and swung her into the boat. The motorboat roared away. Grandma Seeley shook off her skin and ran to Elused.
“Did you see the mortal man, Fiedlimid my love?” the selkie said, bent over with laughter. “Such a look he gave me! He’ll be nothing but gentle with Kim now, for all the fault will be mine. All’s well. Now, come with me. Teach me the feel of these waters.”
“Do you never think?” Grandma Seeley shouted. “Now this place will be swarming with policemen, and how will we be explaining ourselves? You’ve turned my home into a crime scene, Elused!”
He reeled back, shocked. “But I did nothing to Kim. T’was only a trick.”
“That won’t matter.” Grandma Seeley glared at him. “And it was a trick. A childish trick.”
Elused hung his head. Every line of his sleek body expressed remorse. He probably felt it, too. For now. Something would come along to distract him. Something always did.
“You’re a rogue, Elused. The same as always.”
Sensing forgiveness, he raised his head and grinned.
“But I’m not the same, Elused. I’m not the selkie maid you knew. I’m Grandma Seeley too. And Felicienne.”
“And Fiedlimid? Or is she truly dead?”
“She’s grown up, Elused. As you never can.”
“Fiedlimid, my love! Did I not swim the seas over to find you?”
“You did. But I’d be a fool to think you swam alone the whole time.”
“Well, it would have done you no good to have me pining away of loneliness before I reached you, now would it?” He turned the smile she remembered on her: brilliant with a selkie male’s enthralling charm. “Come back with me.”
She shook her head. “This is my home now.”
“Then we’ll claim the waters of this place for ourselves. You and I, swimming where we please.” He grinned, pulled his sealskin around himself, and slipped into the water.
Grandma Seeley looked back at her house, so carefully hidden, holding so much of her mortal life. Armel had built it to last for more decades than any human could live to see. For her. For them. Forever. How strange, that a mortal’s promise could make “forever” mean more than any immortal selkie ever had.
Elused was already swimming away, a distant dot in the water. Grandma Seeley smiled, shook her head, and went to pick up her sealskin.
“Make yourself at home in my lake, old friend. But I won’t be crying seven tears into it.”
She stroked the soft hide. The lake called to her. But policemen would be wanting to talk to Grandma Seeley very shortly. Her seal-self would have to wait.
At least for now.
They That Watch
by Michael Spence and Elisabeth Waters
In the introduction to last year’s story we said that Michael and his wife lived with a “canine Guardian” and continued “Hmm, now what can we do with a Guardian who is a canine?” Once I had posed that question, both our minds started working on it, and thus Mika
came into existence. Nobody ever said that all female mages or warriors must be human.
Elisabeth continues to juggle working on her novel, anthology editing, and writing short stories. She is currently working on a story for Mercedes Lackey’s anthology ELEMENTAL MAGIC: All-New Tales of the Elemental Masters (the anthology is scheduled for December, but the story is due in three weeks) as well as her next Valdemar animal story “A Wake of Vultures.” In her mundane life she spent the past tax season volunteering with the AARP Tax Aide Program, which was an educational experience and provided her with several blog entries.
Michael Spence made his audiobook debut this year with his narration of the novel HOUSE OF ZEOR by Jacqueline Lichtenberg, who called his reading “the best I’ve ever found in an audiobook.” It’s available at Audible, Amazon, and iTunes. He is now working on the audiobook versions of Marion Zimmer Bradley’s books THE BRASS DRAGON and THE SWORD OF ALDONES. Michael and Ramona have relocated to Minnesota together with Orson, a bichon-cocker mix with a tendency to rush to the front window and bark furiously—at nothing. Or so it would seem.....
****
The makt came to life—if one could call it that—backstage in the University of Albion’s theater department’s main auditorium, behind one of the eight props cabinets, and promptly began searching. It had little time in this state; it had to find something quickly to give it structure, or dissipate.
Since a makt was a variety of spell, rather than a lifeform in its own right, one would not expect it to possess all of the three classical elements of personality; it did the will of the mage who cast it, as an extension of that same will, without the distraction of accompanying passion or intellect. The mage who placed this one, however, had not had the luxury of full reconnaissance, and so had to provide for some improvisation. It therefore possessed a rudimentary intellect—again, an extension of the mage’s: to scan; to observe; to choose.
And then the will would have free rein... to seek; to find.
To possess.
#
Melisande was in the bedroom, unpacking from her trip to the Motherhouse of the Sisters of St. Anne, when her husband came home.
“Melisande?” He seemed surprised to see her. “I thought you weren’t due back until the fifteenth.”
“Stephen,” she said going into his arms for a hug, “today is the fifteenth.”
“Oh.”
“I’m glad to see you, too,” she said pointedly.
He started. “Of course I’m glad to see you, it’s just that—” he broke off abruptly, staring at the one thing that hadn’t fit in her luggage. “What’s that?”
“It’s a dog, dear. Her name is Mika. What are you working on that’s made you so absent-minded?”
The dog—a beautiful black-and-white border collie—was instantly consigned to the ‘Melisande is dealing with it’ category, as Stephen waxed enthusiastic about his work. “Edward and I are doing a seminar for an exchange group from the Colonies. It’s incredible; their magic system is so different from ours—subtly different, but the subtleties are fascinating. There’s even one girl who comes from beyond the Colonies, and we’re still trying to puzzle out just what she does.”
Albion’s and Iberia’s colonies, Melisande knew, stretched almost halfway across North America. “You mean, beyond the Mississippi? I didn’t know they had settlements there, let alone universities.”
Stephen shook his head in bewilderment. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t heard of any.” Then he seemed to forget the question entirely. “Why do we have a dog? I thought you were at the convent to learn how to handle our daughter.” He placed a possessive hand on Melisande’s growing belly. “I still can’t believe she’s going to be a Guardian from birth.”
“She will be, but the Paten will be kept safely at the Motherhouse until she’s older and has had some training. Lady Wizard Sarras will be in charge of her training.”
Melisande felt Mika rubbing against her leg. She knelt and scratched the border collie’s ears. “As for Mika, we became very close at the Motherhouse. I hated leaving her. But Sister Madeleine said she just showed up one day and had lived there ever since—she was free to come home with me if she wanted to. And she really wanted to. Didn’t you, girl?” Mika lay on her side for a tummy rub, and Melisande obliged.
“If you say so.” Ordinarily Stephen loved dogs, but approaching fatherhood had so radically shifted his thoughts that the usual “academics” now coupled with “daughter” banished this dog from his mind. “I can’t think of a better teacher than Sarras for our little girl,” he mused.
Neither could Melisande. Lady Wizard Sarras was not only the Guardian of the Grail, to which the Paten was a companion Treasure, she was a senior member of the faculty of the University’s College of Wizardry, and she had been Stephen’s faculty advisor during the many, many years he had studied before finally passing his Senior Ordeal. By then, the University was home, and Stephen had slipped easily from student researcher to faculty. And now that they lived in a house, complete with a small garden, instead of the quasi-dorm used for married-student housing, Melisande was content with her life. It wasn’t without its shocks, of course; discovering that she was pregnant with a Guardian was only the latest one.
Unless it wasn’t... “Stephen, what did you mean by “‘it’s just that—’?”
“I thought you weren’t due back until tomorrow, and the seminar is scheduled to meet here tonight. We’ve been rotating it through faculty homes to give the students a view of how we live here.” He look at her anxiously. “You don’t have to do anything. Edward is bringing refreshments, and we’ll clean up after ourselves. You don’t even have to put in an appearance—you can stay in the bedroom and rest, or you can sit in on the seminar, whichever you prefer.”
It might be interesting, at that. “I’ll see how I feel tonight. What time are they due?”
“Seven, and they should be gone by nine. Nine-thirty at the latest.”
“Seven?!” she said in horror. “And what time is it now?”
“Uh...” He consulted his Senior Thaumaturge’s sigil and gulped. “Six-forty?”
She thumped an annoyed fist on his chest. “Men! Get the chairs moved. I’ll put glasses out for drinks.”
#
Melisande decided to sit in on the seminar after all, but when the group arrived, she felt as if her hair stood on end. As a Sensitive, she knew this feeling well, but why now? It could be just that Edward’s here. Edward was the Guardian of an anti-Treasure, the Sceptre of the Ungodly, and anti-Treasures could be uncomfortable things to be around. Maybe I’m feeling things more than usual because of my pregnancy. That was certainly possible as well.
She sat down in a comfortable chair—on the far side of the room from Edward and Stephen, and close to the fire cheerfully crackling in the fireplace, a counterpoint to the lively discussion bouncing about the living room. Mika stood vigilant at her side, scanning the students. Her head was next to Melisande’s knee, so when she froze, pressing against Melisande and staring fixedly across the room, Melisande followed her stare. The girl sitting next to Edward seemed ever so slightly out of place. While all of the students’ clothing was of a different style than that worn by students in Albion, this girl seemed even more out of style. Also, to Melisande’s eyes, there was a sort of gray film about her, as if she were wrapped in a semi-visible shroud.
As the talk continued—tonight’s session concerned Treasures and their Guardians (apparently they didn’t have either in the Colonies)—Melisande realized that the girl was flirting with Edward. She looked up into his face and actually batted her eyelashes as she said, “There is a saying where I come from: “‘Quis custodiet ipsos custodies?’—and I think it would apply here. You have all of these powerful Treasures,” she smiled at Edward, “and they have Guardians to watch them, but who watches the Guardians? How do you know they won’t misuse the Treasures in their care?”
A reasonable question, thought Melisande, a
nd one I know Edward himself has considered. But look at her! The others don’t appear to know that Edward is a Guardian, and they live here at the College; but she obviously knows. Is she a Sensitive? No, or she’d be on the other side of the room from him, like me...except that she looks as though she not only senses the Sceptre but covets it for herself. Then the girl’s eyes flicked across the room to look at Melisande, and her eyes became even more covetous. Melisande’s skin crawled. Just who—or what—is this girl? The end of the seminar couldn’t come quickly enough.
But finally everyone had gone and Melisande lay curled up in bed next to Stephen, feeling safe and cherished. She saw Mika lie down at the foot of the bed and, smiling, drifted off to sleep, happy at the thought of two individuals there who loved her. With a third on the way.
#
She was dreaming. Of course she was dreaming; she was a dog.
This wasn’t the first time this had happened to her—it had started at the convent, shortly after Mika attached herself to Melisande. There the dreams had been innocent and playful: running around the convent grounds; herding the sheep and goats, whether they needed herding or not (a dog has to keep in practice, after all); splashing in the stream that flowed into the lake...
Now, however, play and innocence were past. Her eyes darted from door to window and back. No sign of motion. The air smelled normal, apart from the new ashes in the fireplace. It did not do to let one’s guard down. To be sure, she knew (how did she know?) that she needed to sleep for more than two-thirds of the day, something she wished weren’t so but could do nothing about. At some point faith had to enter the picture; she knew that, and surely those who called her did too. Still, she must do what she could.
But just what was she watching for, and who felt this need for vigilance? Was she Melisande, her unease from the evening seeping into this dream, or was she another mind that shared Melisande’s disquiet? And how could she tell?