The Wild and Lonely Sea

by Isobel Robertson

  True blood magic - the strongest magic of all. Lisbetta didn’t even know any selkies who would dare tamper with power as potent as an entire life force. But then again, she didn't know any selkies foolish enough to take on the sea. She eyed the little charm uncertainly, afraid to touch it.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Fire and storm,” Moira said grimly. “I’m going to set that entire fleet alight and then hit them with waves and wind.”

  “Fire?” Lisbetta asked, alarmed. “How are you going to stop Cormac’s ship from catching light.”

  “You’ll have to protect it.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that,” Lisbetta said, but Moira was already drawing her patterns and circles into the sand.

  “You’ll have to. Keep them alive.”

  The power began rising almost immediately. It came flooding up from the sea, seeping into the sand of the beach and the damp, foggy air. Moira chanted, the shell charm in her hands glowing bright gold, so bright that surely the men out on the ships could see it.

  Drawing on every scrap of her own magic, Lisbetta squinted out to sea, looking for Cormac’s ship. There it was, setting out from the harbour, a tiny little toy ship heading for Sigurd’s giant fleet. Flinging out everything she had, she pulled up magical shields, wrapping the ship in a bubble of power so strong that she staggered backwards.

  Moira threw her head back, the air around her humming and fizzing with more magic than Lisbetta had ever felt before. The sea itself seemed to be vibrating, too full of power to hold still. Moira screamed, the sound high and keening, and the ships burst into vivid flames.

  Lisbetta watched in awe as the fire built higher, spiralling up each mast and catching the sails, licking in vicious tongues across the deck. Tiny figures appeared like flies in the distance as men threw themselves into the sea. But the water offered no safety as the storm built up, waves crashing harder and harder against the hulls of the burning ships. Lisbetta held her shields as Cormac’s ship drew closer, watching the fire bounce off the invisible bubble. But she could do nothing against the storm, and watched in horror as Cormac’s ship began to toss and roll.

  “Stop, Moira!” she shouted. “It’s too much!”

  Moira didn’t move, still as a statue, with her head thrown back and her arms wide. Panicked, Lisbetta lunged forwards and slapped Moira hard across the face. She gasped, her eyes flying wide, and abruptly pulled the magic back in. The fires continued to burn, but the sea calmed and the air stilled. Moira’s eyes rolled up and she collapsed to the ground in a heap. Lisbetta lent forwards, touching her face gently. She was breathing normally. Probably just exhausted.

  “You’ve made a big mistake, Lisbetta.”

  Her breath frozen in her throat, Lisbetta turned slowly. Erlend stood waist-deep in the waves, his face drawn and shadowed.

  “Leave,” she told him. “Stop this foolish meddling with human struggles, and stop using others to get what you want. Leave me alone and stay away from Anja.”

  “Don’t do this,” Erlend warned.

  Lisbetta stepped forwards to face him, drawing on the strength of her ancestors.

  “You are banished from the kingdom of the North Atlantic, Erlend. Leave and never return. Find a scrap of ocean that will have you, and never bother us again.”

  “You’ll regret it.”

  “Not for a moment,” Lisbetta said, turning her back on him.

  Something slammed into her back and she fell forwards, crashing to the floor, her mouth full of sand. She couldn’t see, couldn’t move, until Moira screamed, and she fought through the pain to pull herself to her feet.

  Moira lay on the sand, breathing hard but apparently unharmed. Erlend was gone.

  “What happened?” Lisbetta asked.

  “He took it,” Moira whispered, holding out her empty hands. No shell charm.

  “Oh no,” Lisbetta said, a sick feeling growing in her stomach. What could Erlend do with that kind of power? Perhaps more accurately, what couldn’t he do? She thought of the dark power that had emanated from the mysterious figure in the harbour, on that night a week ago, and she shivered.

  “Cormac,” Moira said weakly, her gaze slipping to look over Lisbetta’s shoulder. Slowly, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, Lisbetta turned to look out to sea and almost screamed. While she argued with Erlend, she had forgotten all about Cormac’s ship, sailing straight out into danger. The shields were gone, and flames licked dangerously close to his sails, curling out from Sigurd’s fleet as smoke blurred the air. Lisbetta stared at the fire, fear mingling with a dangerous anticipation as she felt the power in those magical flames.

  “Go,” Moira said, collapsing back down into the sand, and the agony stabbed into Lisbetta's skin as she imagined Cormac burning alive.

  It would be days, maybe even weeks, before Moira could attempt any more magic. She was on her own. Stumbling across the beach, she changed as she fell into the water, her familiar seal shape wrapping up around her as she fought her way out of her dress, swimming towards the burning fleet. Erlend’s empty eyes still lingered in her mind, but they faded beside images of Cormac’s terrified face as flames rose up around him. She swam even faster, trying to rebuild her forgotten magical shields, and hoping she wouldn’t be too late.

  *****

  Chapter 16

  As Lisbetta swam alongside Cormac’s ship, she finally focused enough to bring the shields back up, wrapping magical protection around the ship once again. A loose tongue of flame curled around one mast and she held it back, not sure how to extinguish it without Moira’s help. She shifted back into her human form, treading water beside the steep curve of the hull, her wet hair plastered to her scalp and floating along the surface of the water.

  “We settle this man to man!”

  The voice drifted down from the deck above: Sigurd. How had he escaped onto Cormac’s ship?

  “Agreed. No more magic.”

  Cormac. What was he thinking? He must be exhausted and terrified, yet he would fight Sigurd? She couldn’t let this happen. She wouldn’t lose Cormac now, not after everything they’d survived.

  Calling on the water to help her, she pulled the waves into a spinning vortex, buffeting the side of the ship and raising her into the air at the top of a spinning column of water. Ignoring the terrified calls of the sailors, she staggered forwards onto Cormac’s ship and, naked, fell onto her hands and knees on the deck.

  Chaos greeted her as she raised her head. All around her, ships flamed against the growing dark, vivid colours and stark silhouettes against the evening sky and blackened sea. Waves rolled and hissed, flying against each other in unnatural directions as the last of the selkies warred with Moira’s magic. On board the ship, Sigurd stood dirty and singed, his hat gone and his eyes wild, a small cluster of pirates behind him as he faced Cormac across the deck.

  What a scene. Once upon a time, she might have admired Erlend for manipulating these humans so neatly.

  Cormac looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and salt stains across his clothes. Lisbetta drank him up with her eyes, relieved beyond belief that he didn’t seem to be hurt. She had been in time after all.

  He flicked her a glance but said nothing, focusing his attention back onto Sigurd. The other men were eyeing her uneasily, muttering amongst themselves, but no one moved towards her. She waited, watching Cormac.

  “Let’s finish this, Sigurd,” he said, his voice tired. “Ye know I’ll no’ work for ye ever again. Now leave me alone or end this properly.”

  Sigurd lunged forwards without warning, his sword flashing in the fire light as he slashed directly at Cormac’s chest. Cormac staggered backwards, struggling for balance. Lisbetta fought back a scream, feeling the ship lurch as the sea pulsed along with her racing heartbeat.

  Red reached Cormac’s side in a second, handing him a sword before Sigurd had a chance to attack a second time. Ready now, Cormac parried Sigurd’s thrusts roughly but effectively. Lisbet
ta could tell he wasn’t a practised swordsman, but he seemed to hold his own. She sat frozen to the deck, her heart in her mouth as she watched the awkward dance, punctuated by clashing steel and angry shouts.

  Sigurd’s men were moving forward now, clustering behind their leader as he staggered backwards, breathing hard. Was Cormac gaining the upper hand?

  “Stay out of it!” Red roared, waving his own sword in a wide arc in front of the other men. Sigurd thrust, his sword stretching towards Red’s unprotected side.

  “Papa, NO!” Norah flew forwards, racing across the deck towards Red, who turned to face her with an expression of utter shock on his face.

  “Stupid girl!” Sigurd shouted, letting his momentum swing him further around, his sword slicing through the air towards Norah.

  Lisbetta reacted without thinking, rolling forwards, hands outstretched, fire shooting from her fingers. One jet struck Sigurd square in the chest, knocking him backwards. He crumbled onto the deck as the mast above him caught fire. His men screamed, scrambling away and throwing themselves over the side of the ship.

  “Witch!” someone shouted.

  Norah stood beside Red, clutching his arm, her eyes wide. Had her own father really just tried to kill her?

  An ominous cracking sound came from above. Lisbetta looked up slowly, watching in horror as the mast gently split under the heat of the fire, beginning to fall towards the deck. She couldn’t move, couldn’t act. Trapped in amber, she watched the wood fall through the air so slowly that every second felt like a lifetime.

  Sigurd lay staring up at the falling wood and fire. His mouth opened in a scream, but no sound emerged. Silence.

  And then Cormac ran forwards,flying onto the deck, pushing Sigurd out of the way as he rolled. The mast crashed down inches away from him, the deck bursting into angry flames. Lisbetta tried to fight down the fire, but she was empty, exhausted.

  “Run!” she shouted, reaching out towards Cormac. He turned to look directly at her through the flames and smoke, his eyes meeting hers for a painfully long moment, then he yanked Sigurd to his feet and threw himself overboard.

  “Get away!” Lisbetta said, shouting this time at Red, Norah and Jamie as they gaped at her, their faces full of fear. She staggered to her own feet, barely able to stand on the rolling deck. Her eyes watering from the smoke, she threw herself headfirst overboard, diving deep into the welcoming sea.

  “Sister. Let me help you.”

  The voice spread all around her, inside her.

  “Anja. You betrayed me.”

  “I was wrong,” the voice whispered in anguish. “Forgive me. Let me help.”

  “Save them all,” Lisbetta said, the exhaustion claiming her body as she sank deeper beneath the water. “Make sure he lives. I love him.”

  “I will save him,” Anja promised. And then the darkness closed in and Lisbetta abandoned consciousness, letting the waves sweep her far away.

  *****

  Chapter 17

  Lisbetta woke up in a burst of sprayed water and gasping breaths, her body shaking and retching. She rolled onto her back, her lungs scraping as she breathed in hard. Huge blue eyes peered down at her anxiously, white-blond hair glowing in the fiery red light.

  “Don’t forget your true nature, sister,” Anja said softly, and then she was gone. Lisbetta shook her head, blinking her eyes hard. Had anyone been there at all?

  She sat up carefully. She had made it back to the beach, which lay covered in broken wood and knotted ropes, gold coins, and scraps of fabric. The remains of Sigurd’s fleet. A figure stood watching her in the distance, far down the sand, too far away to make out clearly. She squinted, trying to make out a face. That feeling of dark magic began to seep into her veins, like the man in the harbour all over again.

  Soft coughing caught her attention and she turned to see Cormac flat on his back beside her, weakly coughing up water.

  She scrabbled across to him, turning him onto his side and hitting him hard, pushing magic through him to pulse out the water. Her strength seemed to be back, although with an unfamiliar feeling to it. Anja must have lent her power.

  “Cormac,” she whispered. “Can you hear me? Please breathe. Don’t let the sea take you.”

  “Lisbetta,” he whispered in reply. “Love you.”

  hen he collapsed again, unconscious, but a little smile touched his face and his breathing seemed regular. Lisbetta smiled down at him, relief making her giddy. He would live.

  Abruptly, she remembered the strange figure, but when she looked up again, the beach was empty. Perhaps she had imagined it.

  She hoisted Cormac up, lifting him with a little strength and a lot of magic until she had his arm wrapped around her neck. She dragged him along the beach, staggering over driftwood and broken planking, her head aching and her vision spinning.

  “Lisbetta! Oh thank God, you made it.”

  Moira ran along the beach towards them, her feet sinking in the wet sand, her arms reaching out to her brother. Lisbetta gratefully let the other woman share the weight, Cormac dangling between them as they made their way slowly back into the town.

  The streets were thronged with people, confused and angry. Moira and Lisbetta kept their eyes down, slipping almost unseen through the crowd as townspeople put out fires and patched up minor injuries. It didn’t seem as if Sigurd’s fleet had managed to do much damage to this tough little town. The relief came more strongly than expected. She barely knew this place, but she would have hated to watch it burn to the ground.

  They made it back to the house eventually, every step agonisingly hard. Getting Cormac upstairs was out of the question, so they pulled together two arm chairs in the parlour, laying him awkwardly across them, a footstool in between. He didn’t look very comfortable, but what else they could do?

  Red limped into the house a few moments later, Norah at his side and Jamie just behind them.

  The three of them stood in the hallway for a moment, looking at Moira and Lisbetta.

  “What happened out there?” Red finally asked. “Do I even want tae know?”

  It’s best tae leave it alone,” Jamie began, his eyes flicking sideways to Moira, but Lisbetta shook her head.

  “It’s too late for that. We need to share our secrets and work together to recover from this.”

  Norah’s expression was determined. “I don’t know what happened out there, but I know that you’re all good people, and I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  Lisbetta met her eyes for a second, then turned back to face Red.

  “Your brother already knows this, at least in theory, but it might be a surprise for you. Moira is a witch. A sea witch, to be more exact, but she can work all kinds of different magic. She has stronger magic than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  Red swallowed hard, his eyes wide as he looked at Moira.

  “A witch? Little Moira King? For how long?”

  “Since I was fourteen,” Moira replied, meeting his eyes steadily. “Something changed and I learnt that I could do all kinds of things that should be impossible. I havenae had any sort of teaching or training, it’s just natural.”

  Red nodded slowly. “It’s a lot to hear, but it explains a fair few things. Was it ye who made all of Cormac's wee magic tricks?”

  “It was. I’m the reason you and Cormac always had a good wind as well. It was more than just luck.”

  “I wish ye’d told me,” Red said, looking at Cormac. “But I understand why ye didnae.”

  “It’s been a difficult thing to keep secret,” Moira said.

  “And ye’re a witch as well?” Red asked, looking at Lisbetta, his voice a little hesitant.

  Lisbetta shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m something even stranger to you.”

  Cormac came to stand beside her, his hand warm and comforting on her waist.

  “I’m a selkie,” she said.

  Red and Jamie both gaped at her.

  “I ken it sounds insane,” Cormac said. “But it’s true.
Selkies are real, and I’m married to one.”

  “Ye can turn into a seal?” Jamie asked, his eyes wide.

  “Yes. Maybe it’s better to say that I can turn into a human.”

  Jamie looked panicked now.

  “Selkies are an entirely different type of creature,” Lisbetta explained. “I may look human, but I’m not.”

  Red sucked in a deep breath. “The sealskin. From Glasgow.” He shook his head, his eyes still a little wild. “This is quite something. Ye’ll have to forgive me if it takes a while for it tae really sink in.”