by Ren Curylo
She started to drop the Ársa doll back into her box but hesitated. She looked at it for a moment as she settled her garments back in place. She dropped the doll into the drawer of the bedside table before snapping the box shut and shoving it back under her bed.
Maybe having the doll handy in the dark of night when she couldn’t sleep would prove entertaining, she thought.
2 days later Albus 8, 761
Lilitu Grove
Mirus Province, Corath
Adamen
“Well, did you talk to him?”
“I did,” Adamen said. Her mother was tense and on edge. Why, she wondered.
“Well? What did he say?” Erish asked impatiently. “He said he didn’t know what gender the baby is,” Adamen
lied. Erish waved an impatient hand at her daughter. “Oh, not that,” she said in an exasperated tone. “What did he say about assigning us a deity?”
Adamen looked at her mother, thinking it odd that she wasn’t the least concerned about her grandchild. “He said he would work on it right away, and find someone. He also apologized for forgetting. He said he’s been busy since he came here.”
Erish clapped her hands like a delighted child. “Oh, that’s truly grand. It’s about time we had our own deity.”
“I don’t see why you want one,” Adamen said. She thought it was useless to pray and talk to a god or goddess that never showed up. She knew shepherds and ranchers prayed to Pales, the Goddess of Herds and Shepherds, and she had never one time met a shepherd or rancher who had actually seen Pales. She suspected that not a single other deity was present in the lives of any of those who worshipped them. And she had never seen one of their prayers stop her from running their herds off in the middle of the night.
“I want one because other creatures have them,” Erish said petulantly. “And I want one because Ársa promised me one after I agreed to bring you along on this move.”
Adamen lifted her chin. “So it’s true,” she said. “You were going send me on another ship, and the only reason I’m here is because of Ársa’s insistence.”
Erish looked at her daughter without emotion. “Someone needed to lead the others. He promised me this. I kept my end of the bargain, now he needs to keep his.”
“Well, don’t worry, Mother,” Adamen said. “He’s going to.”
“Who is he going to pick?”
“He said he would talk to Moriko to see if she’s interested. That’s his first choice, but if she doesn’t want the extra responsibility, he’ll choose someone else.”
Erish smiled, sitting with her long black braid coiled in her lap like a sleek cat. “Oh, I hope she takes the assignment. I like her. She’s my first choice, too. She’s everything I thought she’d be. I was quite impressed when we met that one time in the old world.”
“I thought you’d be pleased,” Adamen said.
“She’s a logical choice since she’s the Goddess of the Forest.”
“I agree,” Adamen said. “Now, since you’ve told me I cannot live here anymore, Mama, I should be going.” Adamen rose from her seat to leave.
“Wait,” Erish said, placing her hand on her daughter’s forearm. “Did he not tell you the gender of this baby?”
“I don’t know it, Mama. And it doesn’t matter to me.”
“It had better matter, girl. If it’s a boy, his options are bleak. I cannot see ever allowing a mixed race boy to breed with our women. So I’ve decided that if this child is a boy, it is to be smothered at birth.”
“I do not intend to give birth here in the village, mother. I’m leaving. I won’t be back until after my child is born.”
“You must comply with the Lilitu rules. You must hand that child over. I can tell by your behavior that you know it’s a boy.” Erish continued to hang on to her daughter’s arm, digging her long, neatly manicured nails into her flesh. “Why, I should have it cut out of you right this instant.” Erish felt slightly gleeful over the harsh cruelty of that statement.
Adamen jerked her arm from her mother’s grasp and glared at the woman. “I won’t be bullied, either, mother. This is Ársa’s child; it is the child of the most powerful man in this world. I don’t think you should even entertain the idea of killing his child. I’ll be on my way, now.” She turned and stalked from the room, leaving her mother sitting with her hands in her lap gaping after her. Albus 8, 761
Blackpool
Catormad Province, Corath
Erish Queen Erish sat in her bed, loitering and thinking about her daughter. She didn’t want to face her court today and didn’t trust her temperament to hear the complaints of her people. Adamen had always upset her and tested her temper. The girl was maddening and infuriating and seemed to look for ways to vex her mother. Why can’t she be more like me? I should have chosen her father based on something besides his looks. And the girl certainly inherited those. She’s far too beautiful for her own good, which is exactly why she’s sporting around with Ársa’s child in her belly. And it’s a boy baby, too, to make things worse.
Erish drummed her long, neatly manicured nails on the cover of the book she was pretending to read, that now lay closed in her lap. At least she had managed to get Ársa to keep his word about assigning them a protector. Not that he’s done it yet, she complained to herself, flinging the book across the room to thud heavily into her closed door.
Moments later, a knock sounded and one of Erish’s guards called, “Is everything all right, my lady?”
“Fine,” Erish shouted out. She let her peevish mood reflect in her voice and immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry,” she said in a pleasanter tone, “I’m fine. I am just having a bit of an off day. Is that you, Durada?”
“Yes, my lady,” came the answer.
“Can you please cancel my appointments for today? I cannot face anyone after that visit from my wretched daughter.”
“Yes, my lady,” Durada said.
“I’ll be going out in a bit, Durada, so you can have the afternoon off. The guards can handle things in my absence.”
“Yes, my lady, thank you,” Durada said.
Erish made no move to get up and dress for her outing. She sank, with a heavy heart back onto her pillows and stared at the ceiling for a while longer. How I wish I could bend the rules for you, my dear, but I just cannot. You have to follow the same rules as everyone else and that means you simply have to give up your male child. A tear sprang to Erish’s dark eyes and her face wore a worried countenance. She tried out several scenarios in her head that would allow her daughter to keep her male child, but none of them would work, she concluded. She even entertained abdicating the throne for Adamen, but in the end, she tossed that aside, too. Any successor to follow her would simply enforce the rules themselves.
I know Adamen won’t bring her child here, so I could simply pretend I’m not aware of it and let her do whatever it is she plans to do. But no, she was around the entire colony. Someone would have noticed her condition and they won’t be tight-lipped about it, either. I have no choice but to find her and force her to return to us.
Erish rose, with her gauzy nightgown flowing behind her, trailing at her ankles as she moved gracefully down the hall and into her daughter’s private bedchamber. There must be some clue to where she’s been meeting Ársa all these years. She picked up trinkets and other small items in Adamen’s room, fondling each of them while focusing on its owner. She hoped to glean some kind of knowledge or impression that would show her where to start looking.
Quills, knitting needles, crochet hooks, cable needles and other small straight items were packed into a tall slender mug. Mementos of some of Adamen’s outings with the Pixies, no doubt. Erish got nothing from them, even though she carefully handled each item, all the while concentrating on her daughter.
Erish was about to give up when a large conch shell caught her eye. Where in the world would she find such a thing? She picked it up to inspect it more closely and she instantly felt a strong tingling in her fin
gers that quickly shot up her arm. This is connected to where Adamen has gone, I’m sure of it. She set the shell down with a clatter and hurriedly returned to her room and dove into her bed to consider what she should do next.
Now that she had an idea of where to look, she considered how daunting a task this was going to be. Erish had no idea how many hundreds of thousands of miles of coastline Lerien had or how many of them were accessible, but she had no doubt that it was more than she could conceivably cover in several hundred years. She didn’t have that kind of time.
She felt a driving need to find Adamen and bring her back here to face the consequences the same as any other Lilitu woman would, she rose from her morose bed and dressed in a scarlet gown. She left her home behind to search the countryside for her daughter. She flew from colony to colony asking every Fae she encountered if they had any knowledge of Adamen’s whereabouts or of her meeting places with Ársa. None claimed to have seen her, and Erish was beginning to wonder if they all worked in concert to protect the girl from her. She knew that Adamen had many friends among the other races of Fae.
She made her way to the largest Pixie colony in the area and they all claimed they hadn’t seen Adamen in months. They helpfully suggested that she ask the Tree Fae on Ceann’nathair, knowing it was three continents away from Corath, where they lived. She bristled when she thought she heard a twitter of laughter as she left the Pixies behind. Filthy, flighty little Pixies, I hope a blight takes you all. The Pixies were always into mischief and Adamen spent a lot of her free time with them. I had rather hoped that Ársa would leave you little monsters behind when we came here, but I see he is far more inclusive than I would have been.
She tried five times to Travel, to blink her way to Ceann’nathair. When that was unsuccessful, she looked for a Fae portal to take her there, but she couldn’t find any. “Damned Pixies,” she muttered aloud and under her breath. “I’m sure you have hidden them away so I can’t get to her. Which means you know where she is,” she said angrily.
Erish looked around her to determine her location for she had gone fairly far afield looking for a portal. Where are those darned Pixies? She could hear the ocean from here, she noted. How did I get so far? The Pixies weren’t near the ocean. That particular colony of them was stashed outside a farming area where there was plenty of fun to be had making mischief on a dozen or so farms nearby.
Thinking of having a look around this shantytown and asking if anyone had seen her daughter, she decided to see what buildings were here first. After a brief search, looking at the structures in this place, she decided that Ársa wouldn’t stay here for any length of time. Most of the buildings were run down and small. Not the sort of luxury she could see Ársa bringing his lover to. She was positive that neither her daughter nor her lover had ever been in this dismal location.
Deciding to check out the beach area before she moved on, Erish flew up and saw a woman standing in the sand beyond a hillock. She woman looked human but the scent on the wind disputed the claim and it piqued Erish’s interest. She flew, making certain to remain invisible, nearer to the woman who was longingly looking out at the waves. A flash in the water drew her attention and she realized that the woman was staring at someone. Was someone in the water?
Erish caught sight of a flat tail slipping under the water as a wave engulfed the spot and it was gone forever. Was that a seal? She turned and looked at the woman on the beach again; a beautiful human for all appearances, but now Erish knew the truth. This was a Selkie if ever she’d seen one. And that means, she thought, narrowing her eyes at the woman, that a human male is holding you captive somewhere nearby.
The woman, small in stature, with long wavy brown hair and deep velvety brown eyes, lifted a tanned hand up to brush a tear from her cheek. She was standing barefoot in the sand of the beach, still staring out to sea. The look on her face was longingly painful and it even made Erish’s heart soften for a moment.
A man’s voice called out from down the beach, drawing both Erish’s attention and the woman’s. “Muirgan,” he shouted. “The baby is hungry. You’d better come in now.”
Muirgan turned sorrowful eyes toward the man before casting another sad, longing look toward the sea. After a moment, she headed down the beach to where he stood, waiting.
Erish was quick to assess the situation and decided this could be a beneficial relationship to explore. She followed them silently down the beach and up the trail leading to a small shanty on the outskirts of a tiny fishing village.
“The fog has cleared,” the man said to Muirgan as they returned home. “Perhaps we’ll get to go out fishing this afternoon, after all.”
Muirgan made no comment as Yann opened the door to their small home.
Erish followed them inside, taking care that they didn’t see or hear her. She needed to learn all she could before she made a move. Most of all, she wanted to find out where the man was keeping Muirgan’s skin. She looked around the room and didn’t see anything that looked suitable or secure enough to lock the skin away. She knew it wasn’t somewhere that Muirgan could find it, or the woman would have returned to the sea.
Back in the old world, Erish had known quite a few Selkies. She was surprised that Ársa had brought them along. She supposed it made sense; they were Fae after all, and definitely not mortal creatures. Perhaps whomever Ársa put in charge of the sea had done it. Either way, it was a fortuitous day for her.
A cradle occupied the corner of the room, near the fireplace used for cooking. The baby in it was crying lustily. Muirgan crossed the room and picked the child up. She looked at it dispassionately as she sat down in the chair by the rough table in front of the fireplace. She unfastened her blouse and stuck a bare breast in the baby’s mouth, hushing its loud wails instantly.
The human man stared longingly at Muirgan’s exposed breast. From his shoulder, he removed a box attached to a leather strap. The box had hung down his back. He slung it over the peg at the top of the chair back and took a seat at the table. He continued to stare at her breast as she fed the baby.
When the baby, no more than six months old, reached up for its mother’s face, Erish saw that it had webbed fingers. She hadn’t needed any further convincing that this woman was a Selkie held captive, but if she had, this would have cinched it for her. The mixed babies of Selkie women and human men usually had webbed fingers and toes. Erish felt the mixture ruined an otherwise perfectly good Selkie.
“Why do you keep going to the beach, Muirgan?” he asked her at last.
“I…” she said softly, “it’s my…I feel at home there.”
So he doesn’t know she’s meeting someone there. It is likely her husband, her first husband, her water husband.
“Muirgan,” he said, looking up at her, “why can’t you just be happy where you are?”
“This isn’t my home, Yann,” she said forlornly.
“Well, it is now, and it will be from here on, so you might as well get used to it and quit mourning for the sea.”
Erish paid little attention to the conversation. She was fixated on the box he had hung on the back of the chair. There, she was willing to bet, was the skin she sought. If I can get my hands on it, I can make her help me find Adamen. She can employ her water husband to help her. But how? This Yann idiot wasn’t likely to be careless with it. He’s held her here for over a year; he’s not likely to forget it somewhere for the taking. If he had, Muirgan would be long gone by now.
As evidence of the box’s contents, Muirgan’s eyes settled on it as she continued to nurse the baby.
“I thought you were supposed to be good, obedient wives,” Yann said with a bitter, accusing tone.
“I have been obedient, Yann, I have been good and true and faithful.”
The tension in the room grew as they spoke quietly to one another.
“You do as I ask, always,” he said in agreement. “But you don’t do it with any passion or conviction. You do it by rote.”
“What do you
want, Yann?”
He raised his voice. “I want you to love me.”
“I cannot,” she quietly.
“Why not?” he asked plaintively.
“You cannot command a heart, Yann,” she said, glancing up at her human companion.
“I’ve been good to you,” he said.
Muirgan sighed and looked at the baby still suckling at her teat. She was silent for a long time before she shook her head. “Yann, I never came to you willingly. You captured me and you’ve held me against my will for your own selfish reasons. I cannot return to my true home because you hold me prisoner.”
“You’re not a prisoner,” he protested, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair out of his sky blue eyes.
Muirgan’s eyes strayed to the box on his chair again, and Yann’s face colored guiltily.
“What am I, then?” she asked.
“You’re my wife,” he said.
A knock sounded on the door, which startled them all. Erish’s arm jerked and she knocked a tin cup from the counter near where she stood.
Both Muirgan and Yann turned to stare at it before the knock sounded again. “Yann,” a man called from outside the door. “Boat’s going out at three,” he said. “You coming?”
“Aye, Sven,” Yann said. “I’ll be down there in a few minutes.”
Muirgan rose from her seat and put the sleeping baby back into its cradle. When she turned, Yann was right behind her. She moved to cover her bare breast but his hand stopped her. He cupped it in his hand and squeezed. Muirgan stared straight into his chest and did not react.
“Oh, baby, don’t be like that,” he said pleadingly.
Muirgan didn’t speak but a tear slid down her cheek and Erish felt sure she was thinking of the man in the water, now in seal form.
Yann bent his head to suckle at her breast but Muirgan jerked away. “You’d drink your own son’s milk?” she asked. She quickly pulled her blouse together and fastened it.