The Wild and Lonely Sea

by Isobel Robertson

  “I didnae have a choice, Moira, and ye know it.”

  Lisbetta stood poised in the hallway, not sure what to do next.

  Then a crash filled the still air of the hallway and she reacted instinctively, whirling around to fling magic down the staircase at whatever - or whoever - had just entered the house.

  Splintered glass spiralled into the air, caught in the draughts of powerful magic, and Lisbetta gasped at the effort it had cost her. Cormac’s door flung open and he appeared in the doorway, staring at her, lit by the flickering candles.

  “Run,” she whispered, but he didn’t move, just stood and stared at her.

  “Cormac King, you’re under arrest!” a voice shouted from the hallway down below. Did the voice tremor? Had her spell had an effect?

  Cormac stared at her for a second longer, then slammed the door, leaving her alone in the hallway.

  “Dinnae be a fool!” Moira’s voice was muffled but clear. A loud bang sounded, followed by some shuffling noises. When the door flew open again, it was Moira who stood there. Cormac had disappeared from sight.

  “Keep out of the way,” Moira said. “If you’re involved in this, you’ll regret it.”

  She swept past Lisbetta and down the staircase, regal even in her nightdress. Lisbetta’s mother herself would have been proud to look so calm and controlled under pressure.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Moira called out. “Under what authority have you invaded my home in the middle of the night?”

  “We are here on the king’s business,” the man replied, already halfway up the stairs when he stopped to look up at her, his neck cricked a little awkwardly. “We are here to arrest Cormac King for piracy.”

  Oh no. Lisbetta didn't know much about human laws, but she knew he’d hang for piracy. That wasn’t right, not when he’d been so kind to her.

  Where had he gone? She had to make sure he got away. Cautiously, muffling the sound of her feet with what magic she could manage, Lisbetta shuffled along the hallway and into Cormac’s room. The window stood open and a ladder led down into the small garden below. He must have gone that way. A sensible escape route, but a little too obvious.

  “You’re welcome to search the house, gentlemen, but you’ll no’ find anything to incriminate my brother,” Moira said.

  But what if they could tell where he’d gone? Lisbetta drew a deep breath. Deep magic might be far beyond her at the moment, but surely she could manage a small illusion.

  By the time the men marched into Cormac’s room, they saw a plain little housemaid cowering against a blank wall in a drab, windowless room. They barely cast a glance at her before they stormed out, and Lisbetta let the illusion drop with a gasp. She waited for a moment, listening for the men’s footsteps to disappear downstairs, then slipped out after them.

  She could hear them moving around the house from room to room, but their sounds seemed oddly muffled. A strange smell filled the air as well, something sharp and acrid. She followed her nose, and found herself outside the kitchen door, which stood slightly ajar. Heart in her mouth, she pushed it open silently.

  Moira sat cross-legged on the floor, a small black cat curled up beside her and watching solemnly. Moira chanted, her mouth moving but no sound coming out, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. The cat looked at Lisbetta but stayed silent. Such thick smoke and magic filled the air that Lisbetta’s eyes watered and her head swam.

  Behind her, the sounds of the men had stopped. Feeling an uneasy change in the house, Lisbetta turned to look back out into the hallway, the world around her suspended in liquid glass.

  Five men walked slowly past, their eyes blank and unseeing. There was something unnatural about their movements, as if they sleepwalked. They walked back through the open doorway, ignoring the smashed window beside it and the glass that littered the floor. Behind them, the splintered wood eased back into place, sliding back onto its hinges in a single piece again. Apart from the broken glass that littered the entire hallway, it looked as if no one had ever been there.

  “They willnae remember a thing,” Moira croaked. Lisbetta whirled back round to find the other woman gazing up at her with dark, calm eyes. For a fraction of a second, a dizzying mirror reflection looked back at her.

  “You’re exactly what I thought you were,” Moira continued. “But you havenae hurt us yet, so I’ll keep your secret as long as it seems safe. For now, we have work to do. There might be others out there looking for him.”

  “I’ll help him,” Lisbetta said, the words slipping out before she even had a chance to think about them.

  “Then follow me.”

  Lisbetta followed Moira out into the night, both still in their billowing white nightgowns. She wrapped the warmer winds around them to keep out the night chill. Every selkie could handle the winds and waves, skin or no skin.

  Moira led her through the town, keeping to the darkest parts of the shadows as they walked down to the harbour and out onto the beach.

  It was a clear night, and the faint silver of a crescent moon turned the sand a soft expanse of pale gold, littered with the black darkness of rocks and water. Moira made her way through it without hesitating, while Lisbetta did her best to keep up.

  Then something prickled at her scalp. She froze, suddenly recognising the odd scent in the air that had been growing stronger ever since they left the house.

  “Moira!” she hissed. “Stop! There are others here.”

  Moira spun round, her face hidden in darkness. She understood the others that Lisbetta meant. Motioning the other woman to stay still, Lisbetta edged forwards, following her nose towards a narrow opening in the cliff. A sudden light flared out through the gap, then faded again. Lisbetta shrank back, hiding herself in the shadows of the cliff as figures slipped past, almost invisible and impossibly fast. Selkies.

  Waiting for a moment to be sure they were gone, she crept into the cave, casting a soft witch-light around its walls. The entire area, only small, seemed to be utterly empty. What had those selkies been doing in here? It made no sense.

  Moira moved up behind her and swore softly.

  “They’ve taken everything.”

  “What was in here?”

  “Years of treasure. Almost everything that Cormac made working for Sigurd. I planned to hide as much as I could, in case the King’s men found this place. Too late.”

  Lisbetta had known that Cormac was a pirate, but somewhere deep down she hadn’t wanted to believe it. He seemed too kind, too gentle. Nothing like Sigurd.

  Nothing quite made any sense. Why would selkies want human treasure? They valued gold, true, but the kingdom had wealth enough. She crouched down on the wet, jagged floor of the cave, spreading her hands over the pooled water, searching for traces of whoever had been there. She found the familiar essence faster than she had expected.

  “Erlend,” she whispered.

  “You know who was here?”

  “Perhaps. But it doesn’t make sense.”

  Moira sighed. “Here we are, a selkie and a witch. What does make sense?”

  Lisbetta had to smile a little at that.

  “We need to warn Cormac, anyway. The threat might be over for tonight, but he’ll need to stay aware. I cannae keep confusing the minds of everyone who visits our house. He has to get out of this business.”

  “Do you know where to find him?”

  Moira nodded, her dark hair slipping out of its bun to spill over her shoulders.

  “He’ll be at Red’s house. Can you keep us hidden if we go to find him now?”

  “I should be able to manage that much.”

  They made their way back across the beach, feet a little heavier and slower than before. How much treasure had Cormac lost? Had the entire attack on the house just been a diversion?

  Uneasiness flooded her at the thought of Erlend with so much gold. He had always craved power a little more than might be thought healthy. How many supporters could this gold buy him?

  ***** />
  Red’s house, a small ramshackle building on the edge of the town, perched precariously on the very edge of a sheer drop down to the harbour. His family were clearly not as prosperous as Cormac’s.

  Moira knocked firmly on the door, and Lisbetta let the secrecy magic slip away from them. A young man, with hair as vivid as Red’s, opened the door, looked furtively up and down the street, then motioned them inside.

  A small cluster of red-haired people, Red at their centre, sat crammed onto a bench and spilling off onto a tattered rug beside the fire. They certainly were a distinctive family. Cormac stepped forwards from where he stood in a shadowy corner, extending his hands to grasp Moira’s.

  “Did everything go well at the house?” he asked her.

  “I managed to persuade them they had the wrong man,” Moira said carefully. Did Cormac not know all about her powers? She must have made the magical items he'd used in Glasgow - but it seemed that this family kept a lot of secrets. What a sad world these humans lived in, where magic had to be hidden instead of shared.

  “So it’s safe tae go home now?”

  “It should be. But there’s something else. There was a second raid at the same time - this one on the cave. Everything’s gone.”

  “What?” Red jumped to his feet, shoving his brothers and sisters aside to step forwards. “It’s gone? All of it?”

  “Every single gold piece,” Moira confirmed. “Someone knew exactly what they were doing.”

  “Good riddance,” Cormac said grimly. “No more piracy for me. Better that the evidence is all gone.”

  “What the hell is wrong with ye?” Red demanded. “That gold was our route to a better life.”

  “There was no good in working for Sigurd, and ye ken it well.”

  “The gold was good!” Red shouted.

  “Well, ye’ll just have tae find another way to make gold,” Cormac said wearily. “Because that route is closed.”

  “Maybe for ye,” Red said. “But I’m far from done. I was ready tae be a wealthy man, and I’ll be damned if I give up on that so easily. If ye dinnae have the stomach for it any more, I’ll find a new captain. Now get out of my house.”

  “Red, dinnae be a fool,” Cormac began, but Moira grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the door.

  “Talk this over in the morning,” she said. “We have to get home now. We’ll try and work out what happened tomorrow.”

  Lisbetta followed them out into the street awkwardly, trying not to look at Red. No one seemed to even remember her presence. She slipped a little secrecy around them in the street, causing Moira to look at her sharply. Cormac didn’t seem to notice. The three of them walked along in silence, shrouded in shadow. No sign of sunrise yet.

  She had found familiarity in Moira, more than she could ever have expected in a human. That warmth of magic all around had felt almost like going home. But how could she thrive in this world of secrets and fear?

  At last, Cormac turned to look at her.

  “I’m sorry, Lisbetta. This was the worst possible welcome, and ye must have been verra scared. I’ll do better in future, I promise.”

  *****

  Chapter 6

  “So, how did one of your kind end up here?”

  Moira leaned in through the bedroom door, her eyes critical but not unkind.

  Lisbetta swung her legs to the floor, standing up to pace alongside the bed. “It’s a long story. Essentially, I can’t go home until I find my skin, and I don’t know where it is. I lost it in Glasgow.”

  Moira came inside the room and shut the door behind her.

  “Cormac’s out. Do you want me to look for your skin? I cannae promise anything, but I’m good with a pendulum. I might be able to help you.”

  Lisbetta’s eyes widened. She’d not even considered human magic as a source of help.

  “It seems worth a try, if you’re willing to help me. What do I have to do?”

  “Come with me. It willnae be difficult for you.”

  Moira led her into another room, one she hadn’t seen the day before. It seemed to be some sort of study, with books and sea-charts lining the walls. Moira pulled a parchment roll out of a desk drawer and spread it out on the desk, positioning some bottles and glass weights around the edge to hold it flat. Next, she reached into the bodice of her dress and drew out what looked like a crystal pendant, although it was smoky and rough.

  “Sea glass,” Moira said when she noticed Lisbetta looking. “I suppose my magic isnae so far off from yours. Now, I need you to hold my hand and concentrate very hard on your skin. Not just the appearance, but the feel of wearing it. I want you to feel that connection.”

  Lisbetta almost laughed. Such a human thing to say. As if a selkie could forget that connection, even for a moment. She didn’t own her skin, she existed in it. It was the deepest part of her. Her soul. She took Moira’s hand, and let that memory of completeness, of power, fill her from head to toe. Closing her eyes, she could still see the bright golden glow through her eyelids. Moira gasped.

  “That should do,” Moira said, her voice a little shaky. “You can open your eyes and watch now.”

  Lisbetta opened her eyes, intrigued. Moira lent over the map, the pendant held loosely in her hand. Selkies didn’t much use maps, but even Lisbetta could recognise the rough outline of Scotland.

  The pendant thudded down onto the map, startling Lisbetta.

  “Odd,” Moira murmured. “Are you completely sure that you lost your skin in Glasgow?”

  “I’d hardly be wrong about something like that.”

  “It’s just that the pendant is telling me your skin is right here, perhaps within a few miles.”

  “Perhaps you got it wrong.”

  Moira sighed. “I’ve never been wrong in my life. But I’ll try again, anyway.”

  She held still for a few moments, breathing in and out steadily, then lowered the pendant to swing over the map. It hovered for a second, spinning, then gently touched down at exactly the same place as before. Moira frowned.

  “Let’s try in more detail.”

  She rolled the map up again, and thrust it back into the drawer. Pulling out an armful more, she sorted through them before unrolling one on the desk.

  Lisbetta peered at it. Those straight lines and neat little squares must be streets and houses. Perhaps a map of the town?

  Moira grasped Lisbetta’s hand again without even asking permission, and held the pendant out for a third time. It hovered for a moment longer than before, and Lisbetta caught herself holding her breath. At last, its tip scraped the map, and it settled to a rest.

  Moira cocked her head a little, looking down at the map.

  “Where is it?” Lisbetta asked.

  “Red’s house. That doesnae make much sense.”

  The thought of her skin, so close, came as an almost physical shock.

  “Red did take some things when we escaped from Sigurd’s ship. Perhaps my bag was one of them. It doesn’t matter how or why, anyway. I’m going to get it.”

  Moira shook her head.

  “You can hardly just go marching in there. Red doesnae know that I'm the source of Cormac's magic tricks, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Can you distract him while I find it?”

  Moira's gaze shifted away from hers.

  “That house is never empty. And I don’t feel comfortable using magic on them. They’re old friends.”

  Lisbetta hissed out a sigh. “Then I’ll do it by myself. It doesn’t matter if I use up all my energy, not when I’ll have my full power back soon.”

  How could Moira have so much power and yet so little desire to use it? Her strength felt both intimidating and confusing.

  Moira shrugged. “I willnae tell you what to do, as long as you dinnae hurt anyone I care about. You willnae be coming back, then?”

  Lisbetta thought of Cormac’s smiling blue eyes and weatherbeaten skin. “I suppose not. You’ll be pleased to be rid of me.”

  She pu
shed past Moira without saying anything else, uncomfortable with farewells or thoughts of Cormac. She was ready to leave. These were not her people.

  Finding Red’s house barely came as a challenge; she could track back the traces of disguise magic she had used on the walk home the night before. When she reached the house, however, she didn’t knock. Instead, checking that no one watched her from the street, she spread her fingers out. Magic slid from them, easing up the bar that held the door shut from the inside. Next, she cast a sleep spell, sending it spilling under the door and filling the room with an invisible cloud. Too difficult a spell, leaving her weak and dizzy, stumbling a little, but she couldn’t think of anything better.