The Wild and Lonely Sea

by Isobel Robertson

  “He expects you to defy him,” Moira said quietly, resting one hand on his shoulder.

  “Well, I’ll do the best I can,” Cormac said. “Would be a terrible shame to disappoint Sigurd. I’ll fetch Red.”

  “We’ll come too,” Moira said quickly, and Lisbetta nodded in agreement.

  “Dinnae be ridiculous,” Cormac began, but Moira cut him off.

  “Whatever your thoughts on magic, Cormac, you’ve got a powerful witch and a real-life mythical creature sitting in your dining room. Dinnae be an idiot and face Sigurd with just your drunkard best friend.”

  Cormac shrugged a little. “Fine. But I want ye to stay well out of trouble. Ye’re there as a last resort only. And don’t let Sigurd see ye. Oh, and I'm still not sure I believe ye.”

  “That’s fine,” Lisbetta said quickly. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her head felt a little light. Her last encounter with Sigurd had not gone well. At least, this time, she would not be facing him alone.

  They nearly hit straight into Red right outside the house, running along the road with his head down. He was breathing hard and smelt of beer.

  “Did ye get one o’ these as well?” he demanded, brandishing a piece of paper in Cormac’s face.

  “Keep yer voice down. Aye, I did. I was coming to get ye. We need to show Sigurd that we’re done for good.”

  “Oh no we don’t,” Red said, his voice far too loud in the empty street. “I need a way to make that gold back, and I’ll no’ settle for fishing. I say we make our apologies to Sigurd and continue like before.”

  “Ye know it’s too late for that. He’d kill us as soon as pay us. We were lucky to make it out alive before, but now he'll want to kill us just to save face. No one escapes from Sigurd the Great and Terrible, or whate’er he calls himself. Now get moving before people get curious.”

  Cormac and Moira each grabbed one of Red’s arms and started to march him back down the hill. Lisbetta trailed behind, still trying to calm her racing heart. She wrapped a silencing spell around them all, glad that she had her skin back and tucked into the bodice of her dress. Her lesser power would not have been enough to hide Red’s drunken noise from the entire town.

  As the street opened up and the harbour came into view, Lisbetta’s senses suddenly came alive, setting her body tingling all over. The feeling of something about to happen reached painful levels. She tapped Cormac’s shoulder to get his attention, but he shook his head at her and then jerked it forwards. She looked where he indicated and recoiled a little.

  A single man stood in the centre of the open harbour area, a hat pulled low down his eyes and his face hidden in shadow. Darkness radiated out from him, and an uneasy sense of cold.

  “Sigurd’s man?” Lisbetta asked. Cormac shook his head slowly.

  “I dinnae recognise him. He could be new. Let’s avoid him.”

  The four of them sank back into the shadows, Red suddenly quiet. They retraced their path back until they found another alleyway. “This will get us there eventually,” Cormac said, stepping forward to lead the way. They followed him through a maze of tiny alleyways, including one stretch which was surely someone’s back yard, until at last they emerged onto the far end of the harbour.

  Lisbetta peeked sideways and saw that the man still stood there, apparently staring up at the town. Some sort of magic flowed off him, but she couldn’t quite place it. No selkie though, certainly.

  “This way,” Moira said quietly, tugging softly at Lisbetta’s arm, jerking her out of her thoughts.

  The little group inched across the last stretch of harbour, slipping from shadow to shadow until they reached the wooden walkway that led out to where the smaller boats were moored. They came to a halt beside one boat, and all stood looking down at it.

  "This is the one," Moira said to Lisbetta. "It's the boat Sigurd sends so that his underlings can sail out for a secret meeting. I dinnae quite understand how it gets here by itself."

  Lisbetta suspected the involvement of the mysterious man, but she said nothing.

  “So what do we do now?” Red asked, staring down. He seemed a lot more sober.

  “Something dramatic,” Cormac said. “We have to make a point.”

  “We need to talk about this first,” Red said. “Make sure we know what we’re doing and what we want.”

  But he was too late.

  Fire already flowed from Moira’s hands, spilling down into the boat and spreading across it. With a flick of Lisbetta’s fingers, the rope holding the boat to its moorings slithered loose. A sudden wave caught the little craft, tugging it out to sea. It began to drift backwards, away from the harbour, following an unnaturally straight line out to sea.

  “You fools!” Red shouted, shattering the calm and quiet. “Sigurd will kill us for this! We’ll die poor men!”

  He launched himself into the water before anyone had time to react, swimming determinedly for the flaming boat. Cormac jerked forwards, but Moira grabbed him and held him back.

  “Don’t be an idiot, Cormac.”

  Red had almost reached the boat now, but he was in trouble. Drunk and disoriented, he swam too weakly, and the water smashed him roughly from side to side. With the boat entirely aflame, he had nothing to grasp onto.

  “I have tae do something!” Cormac said desperately. “I willnae just watch him drown, like I did Liam.”

  It sounded like an entire story lay behind this, but Lisbetta had no time to ask. With a sigh, she pulled her sealskin out of her dress and wrapped it around her as she plunged forwards, tumbling head-first into the water. She shifted as she fell, her body changing in midair so that she hit the water as a seal, struggling to escape the confines of her dress. She set off towards Red, her seal’s body cutting through the water faster than a human could ever hope to swim.

  His churning, chaotic presence in the water ahead of her sent movement and fear spiralling out from him in equal measure. She flung calming magic at him, singing a soft lullaby that she remembered hearing from her mother. He slowed his frantic kicking, relaxing in the water and letting the waves cradle him without fighting them.

  She changed again, coming up behind him as a woman, wrapping her arms around him while she sang. He sank backwards against her, his fingers slipping away from where they’d grasped the edge of the burning boat. She healed his blistered fingers with a touch, feeling the energy of the sea flow through her.

  Careful to hold Red’s head above the water, she set off backwards, towing him along with her, back towards the harbour wall. Her sealskin drifted along beside her, mirroring her every move. The waters stilled to let her through, and the moored boats gently separated, leaving her with a clear path.

  Cormac grasped Red’s hand as soon as he could, leaning over the harbour edge, with Moira gripping his other arm to hold him steady. Lisbetta pushed Red from below, adding a spark of magic to make him lighter. Between them, they bundled him up to lie on the stone of the harbour, coughing up water and struggling to stay conscious.

  Lisbetta gracefully jumped up beside him, the sea giving her the push she needed to scramble up. Naked, she wrapped her sealskin around her, but it left her legs uncovered and glowing white in the moonlight.

  “I lost my dress,” she said apologetically. Cormac swallowed so loudly that she could hear it, and she realised that he didn’t seem to be able to look away from her legs.

  “Let’s get Red home,” Moira said. “We’ve got other dresses you can have. Can you keep us hidden until we make it back to the house?”

  Lisbetta got to her feet, feeling very self-conscious. She didn’t look at Cormac, just silently drew an invisibility spell around them. They staggered back along the harbour, heading for the main road to town. Everyone tensed as they approached the spot where the man had stood just a few moments earlier, but he was gone. The air felt easier to breathe.

  They left Red, still confused and barely conscious, at his house. Two of his sisters made him comfortable by the fire and
started to fuss over him. He seemed likely to recover well enough from his drunken swim. Hopefully he would remember nothing.

  Then the three of them walked the last distance home, Cormac seemed to be trying hard not to accidentally brush against Lisbetta’s naked shoulders or legs. It arched through her like fire every time he did.

  *****

  Chapter 9

  The next two days passed without incident, but Lisbetta could feel tension and fear practically rolling off Cormac and Moira. They did not expect Sigurd to misunderstand or ignore the burning of his boat.

  The signal they had been waiting for came at dusk, when a bright light appeared on the horizon. Lisbetta had been sat gazing out of her bedroom window, watching the sea, when she spotted it.

  “Cormac!” she shouted. “Come and look at this!”

  He rushed to stand beside her, his shoulder brushing softly against hers, their heads close together as he peered through the glass.

  “A burning boat,” he said softly, after a moment. “It’s Sigurd.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “I dinnae ken yet, but it cannae be good. How is the boat moving towards the town so fast?”

  Lisbetta shook her head. “I can’t tell from up here. But it doesn’t look right, does it? Get me down to the harbour and I’ll know more.”

  Cormac’s breath hitched for a second as he hesitated.

  “No time for that. I've got a telescope. Follow me.”

  He grabbed Lisbetta's hand and tugged her into his study, where he pulled down a trapdoor she hadn't noticed before. They scrambled into a small attic room above. Cormac peered through a slender telescope while Lisbetta opened the window and squinted at the ship. Something was very wrong.

  She sucked in a gasp of salty air and flung her awareness wide. She slammed into the power hard, sending her staggering backwards. Cormac grabbed her as she stumbled, clutching her tightly and stroking her tangled hair out of her face as he looked down at her.

  “Are you alright? What happened?”

  “Selkies,” she said, trying to understand. “That boat is being propelled by selkie magic. And they’re outside the boundaries.”

  “What? How can selkies be helping Sigurd? He messes around with a few magic tricks, but surely nothing so powerful.”

  It made no sense. If the feeling of selkie magic hadn’t been so strong, she wouldn’t have believed it herself. Some other memory tugged at the edge of her mind, but she couldn’t quite place it. Her thoughts were jumbled, a mix of panic and rage and heartbreaking homesickness.

  “He’s here.”

  Cormac’s voice had changed, and his body had tensed. Lisbetta steadied herself and stepped away from him just a little before following his gaze.

  A second silhouette had appeared on the horizon, far beyond the burning boat but gaining on it rapidly. Even from a distance, it loomed over the tiny boat beside it. It must be Sigurd’s ship - what had Cormac called it? The Golden Lion. Sigurd had come to punish them himself. Did he know that they had Lisbetta as well? It wouldn’t take a huge stretch of imagination to guess she would still be with the men who had rescued her. She could only hope that, this time, the pirates would be vulnerable to her magic. She was defenceless without it, weak and useless.

  “Lisbetta? Lisbetta, breathe! Dinnae fear. Ye know that we’ll protect ye.”

  She sucked in a deep breath, desperately shaking her head to try and clear it. Yes. She wasn’t alone this time. She had allies, and powerful ones.

  “Let’s find Moira,” she told him. “We still have a few moments to prepare.”

  They scrambled back downstairs as quickly as they could manage. Lisbetta desperately broadcast the image of the ship with all the mental energy she could manage. Moira might just be psychic enough to pick up on it and start securing the house.

  That must have been the case. By the time they crashed down the final staircase, Moira had marked all the windows with charms and her nimble fingers drew a salt and herb line all the way across the main threshold. A fishing net hung from her other hand.

  “Can you hold them with magic?” Lisbetta asked.

  Moira raised one shoulder in a casual shrug, but deep furrows crossed her brow. “If they were human, aye. But when it comes to this sort of magic, I dinnae know. I’ve never tried.”

  Lisbetta drew a deep breath. “I’ve never been trained in anything like this, but I’ll do my best to help you.”

  “How can we plan anything when we have no idea what they want?” Cormac demanded.

  “We defend the harbour,” Moira said. “If things go badly, then we focus on just this house and try to hold out. It’s as good a plan as I can manage right now.”

  “I’m holding the edge of the sea,” Lisbetta said, her consciousness slipping into the waves that pounded against the harbour wall, feeling every drop of water as it crashed into the rock and spiralled back into the sea or sprayed into the air. It was increasingly hard to focus on the here and now as her thoughts fragmented into a million tiny drops. Moira hovered alongside her, holding her together with a golden net of sparkling magic, the finest Lisbetta had ever seen.

  “What’s happening?” Cormac asked urgently, but neither of them replied, wrapped up in a moment of intense magic.

  The ship stopped, the selkies reluctant to cross the line of her power. Whatever shape she wore, they would still obey the daughter of their queen.

  “You cannot cross here,” she told them, feeling their hesitation as her voice flooded their minds. The power sickened her, rushing through her blood with so much pleasure that she wanted to scream. The selkies shrank back, slipping back into the depths of the sea, taking their magic with them.

  But they had not been travelling alone. The ship came onward, human sailors running and shouting on its decks, their voices deafening in Lisbetta’s ears as she flew alongside and around them.

  “Fire,” she whispered. “Cormac, they have fire.”

  The first fire arrow arched across the night sky as she spoke, crashing into the harbour and extinguishing instantly. The second came straight after it, this time flying into the thatched roof of a house near the sea. An instant of utter silence fell, before the screaming began in Lisbetta’s mind.

  She pulled back into her body, and the screaming suddenly pounded into her ears as she collapsed onto the hard floor of the hallway, her throat hoarse.

  “Water!” Moira shouted. “Cormac, I need water! Lisbetta, I’ll need all your strength. This might hurt.”

  Lisbetta nodded, her throat too raw from the screaming to speak.

  Cormac disappeared through the kitchen door and reappeared a moment later with a bucket of water, slopping from left to right as he ran awkwardly back into the hallway and dumped it beside Moira. Not wasting a second, she threw her head back and began to chant, her voice darker and harsher than before. She grabbed Lisbetta’s shoulder with one hand, and thrust the other into the bucket of water. Her cat slipped out of the shadows behind her, hissing and spitting at the magic that filled the air in a racing vortex. Cormac crossed himself frantically, then shook his head and wrapped his arms tightly around his chest as he watched.

  The water began to evaporate in a bubbling rush, clouds of steam flying up into the air and filling the hallway with wet heat. Moira’s chanting reached a fever pitch, the words a rushed garble that turned into a scream. Lisbetta’s power ripped out of her body, flying through Moira and out into the air so abruptly that both women collapsed onto the floor.

  Lisbetta lay panting and exhausted, staring at Cormac’s panicked face as he knelt beside her. Outside, it began to rain, heavy drops pounding down on the street and on the roof, wind crashing them into the glass panes of the windows. The screaming in Lisbetta’s head died down, replaced by the sound of the rain and the howl of the wind. She reached her last scrap of energy out to the sea and watched with satisfaction as the sailors cursed and shouted, their voices fading into nothingness as the ship headed back out to sea.<
br />
  Had they won?

  A pounding on the door startled her out of her thoughts. Cormac jerked backwards, his hand almost touching her cheek, and ran to open the door. Red stood there, dripping wet.

  “Look what you did!” he shouted, shoving Cormac hard in the chest. “A house destroyed, lives almost lost, all because ye decided ye were too good to keep taking Sigurd’s money. And look at me, stupid enough to go along wi ye, as if ye ken any more than I do. It’s sheer luck the weather turned, or there would be five dead children down there right now. Ye’re a damn fool, Cormac King!”

  “I willnae go back to him!” Cormac shouted. “Ye want to work for a man who’d kill those five children? Ye think any amount of gold is worth that? Then ye’re not the man I thought I was friends with.”