Caledonia

by Amy Hoff

  “My people are not vermin or parasites that feed on the human race,” snarled Dorian.

  “Oh, and feeding on love? That’s not being a parasite?” Desdemona shot back.

  “Okay, okay!” Leah cried. “The point is, we need to find him. We’ll figure out how to stop the selk somehow.”

  “Good luck,” said Desdemona, rolling her eyes. “All I know is that a guy comes here sometimes, he works for Sebastian, and he buys information from me.”

  She caught Leah's disdainful gaze.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “I'm on your side, but I have to survive. He could kill me too, you know.”

  “What kind of information have you given him?” Leah asked.

  “Mainly what the police know,” she said. “If you want my opinion, Sebastian will only be found if he wants to be. And I think, luckily for you, he does.”

  “You mean we’re walking into a trap,” Leah said.

  “No,” said Desdemona. “I mean I think he wants to be caught...and he wants you to catch him.”

  Dorian followed Leah out the door. The sun was setting, and Glasgow was aflame in orange and red. The brown stones of the buildings glowed in the late afternoon light. The selkie put a hand through his hair, and then shook his head.

  “Why not just turn himself in, if he wants to be caught? There’s some trick in this,” he said.

  “Desdemona knows more than she is saying, I'm sure of it.”

  “Yes…but there is nothing much we can do, is there?” Leah replied. “It’s our job. Catch the bad guys.”

  “I don’t like it,” he said. “But it must be done. Let’s get back to Caledonia, and see if we can track Sebastian down. All over the world, the selkies will be coming for him.”

  Seoul, South Korea

  He'd been away from Scotland a long time.

  Selkies, like the human Scots, had travelled the world and found a place to thrive in every corner of every nation.

  It had been centuries since he felt the call.

  He had wandered the crowded and carnival markets of Asia for decades, where the turbulent colours, the bright neon, the shouts and scents all combined to lose a man forever, like so many had already been lost. There were so many attractions, so many vices and desires fulfilled, until only the shell of the person remained.

  But there was nothing in this wild world for him and no vice ensnared his soul.

  Only her. Always her.

  The thin, sweet-faced young man pushed the glass door of the corner shop open and a bell sounded. He regarded the array of bottles in the cooler and made his choice. As the cashier was ringing up the purchase, she noticed him go very still. He was handsome, she thought, and seemed indescribably dangerous.

  He stared through her.

  “Sir?” she asked, in Korean. The young man did not reply. He turned and walked out the door.

  She saw he had left his change on the counter, and when she ran into the street to return it to him, he had vanished. She never forgot him, or his beauty, and he visited her in dreams for the rest of her life, when she had a bad day and needed comfort – there he was. She never saw him outside of dreams, but loved him from that moment and for the rest of her life.

  Island of Santorini, Greece

  “We're out of milk,” called the dark-haired man, peering into the refrigerator.

  “I'll get some at the store,” came a male voice in reply, his husband, who was upstairs, looking for a tie.

  The man at the refrigerator turned and smiled as his son looked up at him. The little boy's face was smeared with spaghetti sauce and he giggled, displaying tiny white teeth. The proud father could already see it there, the magic in those eyes. The large brown eyes of his son, who he would one day take to the sea, to Scotland, to teach the ways of his other family.

  There was a crash as the plates fell from his hands and shattered across the kitchen floor. His son looked up into his father's staring eyes, and watched as he walked out of the room, to the front door, opening and then shutting it behind him.

  “Are you going to get the milk then?” called his husband, as the tiny selkie in his high chair giggled and threw his spoon into the mess on the kitchen floor.

  New York, New York

  He was beautiful. Beautiful and always young.

  They all were, of course.

  Marion had asked, before. Why he still looked so handsome, and young, the same as the day they had met at Coney Island in 1934 and he'd already bought her an ice cream cone. She had smiled, brushing tears from her cheek. Those tears, the tears that had called him. All she knew was that there was a handsome young man in a flatcap offering her a melting ice cream cone and grinning at her in the hot summer sunlight. She thought him overdressed then, she thinks him overdressed now. She says so, when he visits.

  They won't let him stay, not overnight. The hospital has rules.

  He never told her, but he suspects Marion knows. She was always very clever.

  The sigh of the respirator filled the room. She opened her eyes, and there he was, so handsome, like that day on the pier, dark eyes dancing.

  She sighed. She knew her face was no longer that of the young girl crying over a foolish lost love, smooth and flawless. Her skin had wrinkled, and her hands felt like cool paper, the skeleton evident beneath them now, the folds of age apparent.

  And he looked down and still saw only radiant beauty, only the face of the gorgeous girl he was to belong to forever, that day he brought her ice cream. He smiled, and took her hand.

  “How do you feel about chocolate?” he whispered, just as he did on that first day, so many years ago, as he handed her the ice cream cone.

  She closed her eyes with a smile.

  “I never liked it one bit,” she said, just as she did then, and sighed, her hand tightening briefly in his.

  He felt the tiny cracks that would break him, as she died.

  Today, he would not feel the loss, or the grief, not till those cracks had spread and consumed him, but he was lucky. Many selk did not accomplish last breath, that final moment which binds forever, and holds the seal-folk safe from the darkness.

  His tears were real and hot, and splashed onto her hand as he held it to his cheek.

  Suddenly he stood, his dark eyes bright. He fought it, fought against it for all he was worth, but he could not resist. He reached out for her, though he knew she was no longer there, and he managed to whisper my love, I am sorry before the wave of magic swept his independence from beneath his feet.

  He walked out into the ward, away from the insistent sound of the machine, and down the white hospital hallway without mentioning to the nurse that Marion was gone.

  Scottish Highlands

  From the cold depths, in the darkness, they emerged from the sea.

  The sand was fine and white beneath the roll of their bellies, and the gory, wet sound of fingers pulling through seal-flesh was punctuated by the waves. Slick-skinned, the young men unfolded from their seal-bodies, and stood white and slender under a cold and cursed moon. The sea was endlessly green beyond the darkness, where death awaited those who ventured too far.

  The men turned as one body, a compass-point, and walked together in the darkness. The lonely roads were filled with those eyes, haunted and haunting. Anyone who happened upon them felt the dread of times long past, when the people's hearts beat in fear of meeting the Fair Folk on the roadways. So many years had passed, and yet the terror remained the same, beating in time with human blood. Those pale and hollow faces of indescribable beauty told anyone with sense to step aside, to go back, and to place their grandparents' iron horseshoe above their doors.

  The walk was long, and uneventful. The selkie-men found clothes along the way. In this cantrip of pain and grief, every seal answered the call, and the pull of the magic. It guided them onwards in the darkness to the orange sea of light that was Glasgow. They did not tire, nor eat or drink. They had one purpose.

  They found him, after da
ys and nights of walking. They found him in the city, just as the sun was going down. The first of the seals began to surround him, a single man who stood beneath the statue of St. George, and they focused their ice-blue eyes on his soul.

  ***

  “Dorian?” asked Leah. His eyes had glassed over, rolling to blue. He did not respond to her, but turned and walked off.

  “Dorian!” Leah called out, and followed him. She turned the corner to see Dorian standing with a group of men.

  They were all in a small park. A statue of St. George stood in the centre, green from age. Encircled on all sides by these dark men was a thin and cowering figure. Magnus stood closest to him, his face expressionless, his eyes dead blue flames with the souls of the ocean’s drowned behind them.

  Leah recognised the target instantly, and rushed to intervene.

  “Geoffrey!” Leah cried. “Stop! It’s Geoffrey, from forensics!”

  “Leah? What’s going on?!” Geoffrey cried. “I was getting a sandwich at the store and…they started surrounding me. Magnus?”

  Magnus said nothing. Lightning flashed in the ice of his eyes.

  Leah looked at the selk now, so terrible, like their forebears on the islands. She remembered how she had felt when Dorian stood with his brother in the cantrip to recall Scotland's history, and the mild storm they had raised on the Clyde. Now, she could sense, more than hear, the low and tangible threat, the ancient drums of a people who still remembered clan, and home…and human sacrifice.

  “There must be some mistake,” said Leah. “Magnus, stop this! It’s Geoffrey.”

  “It is him,” Magnus said in a dead voice. “Look at him.”

  The beautiful men stood in lock formation, dead gazes fixed on the target. Geoffrey looked terrified.

  Leah suddenly realized that she and Geoffrey were the only humans present. They were alone, amidst a race of beings with power they could not comprehend, none of whom would step aside.

  Geoffrey’s blue eyes looked out at her from behind his glasses, his brown hair messy. He still wore his lab coat and a white button-down shirt. He looked pathetic and very frightened.

  “I’ll think of something,” Leah said to him, and looked around herself at the silent seal-people.

  The last rays of the sun had disappeared. Geoffrey was surrounded by the selk, backed against the statue. They were beautiful, white as marble, their long black locks curling around their faces, their eyes the colour of the storm. Leah wondered why they hesitated to strike. More selk were joining the group, walking into the circle from every direction.

  Geoffrey’s face…changed.

  “Striking me when I am down, that is inexcusable,” he said with a laugh, removing his glasses. “And you are supposed to be such a wonderful and kind race. Let your friend see how terrible you have become.”

  “Geoffrey?” Leah asked, lamely.

  He looked down at her and grinned.

  “The human recruit,” he said. “Who is Geoffrey, after all?”

  “You are,” she said, confused. “We work together.”

  “Ah, yes,” he said. “Leah Bishop. My name is Sebastian. You think someone would fancy you? I could never befriend anyone who was in league with these...things.”

  Leah suddenly realised that he was supernatural and he didn’t know it.

  “Call off your dogs,” said Sebastian.

  There was a dull pain in Leah's heart but she stepped forward anyway. She'd be damned if she allowed her emotions to get the better of her.

  “What for? I thought you wanted them this way,” said Leah. “Angry, violent, willing to destroy the world just to hunt you down. The selk are noble. They would do anything for one of their own.”

  “Noble?” he laughed. “I don't know who's been spinning that story, but they are far from noble. They are vicious. They are betrayers and thieves. You know something about betrayal, Miss Bishop.”

  Leah's eyes narrowed. She heard a strange sound and turned to the crowd of seal-men. The eyes of the selk flashed a warning fire, their hard faces a reminder of the deadliness of the Highland Scots in battle. Each mouth was a hard, firm line, beautiful and terrible.

  “Ask them,” said Sebastian, gesturing in disgust at the seal-men. “Ask them about what they have done, in the name of love and loyalty. You really think a race that causes shipwrecks is noble? And what of the other destruction they have caused? You're alone, Leah. Alone with me. The only humans, the only ones with a conscience.”

  “You think you're human?” Leah hissed. “We’re not alike, you and I. And the selk are set to destroy you. It seems like you are the one at a disadvantage.”

  “Do they seem gentle to you?” asked Sebastian, “Beautiful? I assure you, they are monsters just like every other foul thing in their world.”

  She wondered whether she should let the selk take him, if he wanted to be caught. Magnus and Dorian were gone, as empty as standing stones, as solid as history.

  Leah stepped into the ring of seal-folk. They did not turn or look in her direction, focused entirely on Sebastian.

  He grinned. Leah suddenly felt uncertain – something was wrong. A human faced with all the selk in the world after him would not be so confident. Perhaps he did know he was a supernatural, after all.

  “How weak you are,” he said, and around him, the selk began to fall.

  Leah looked around herself in a panic, as the seal-men clutched at their hearts. She sensed

  clouds building on the horizon of her mind. Suddenly a tempest of memories washed over her. She was lost, then, on a storm-tossed sea.

  Adam took her hand as they walked through the Christmas market together, laughing at some joke she couldn’t remember, so warm in the cold

  He handed her tea as she stood at the window

  “Heartbroken,” said Sebastian, as the selk went to their knees. Some lay on the ground, gasping for air.

  “So easily controlled,” he murmured.

  He was smiling at her across the table in the candlelight

  They talked about their honeymoon and what they could afford, it didn’t matter as long as they were somewhere together…

  And the spell broke in Leah suddenly, like sunlight cutting through the cracks in the clouds.

  Stark white hands clutched at Sebastian's chest, long fingernails digging into his skin. Perfect red lips grazed Sebastian’s ear. He was dragged backwards, struggling.

  “A weakness, I assure you, I do not share,” Desdemona breathed into his ear.

  She smiled and breathed him in, her talons against him and her mouth at the pulse point on his neck, his veins throbbing with the hard beating of his heart.

  Her tongue snaked out and tasted his skin.

  The baobhan sith felt a hand on her shoulder. Startled, she looked around, and saw Leah Bishop looking up at her, somehow having caught the winds of the storm.

  “I'll...take it from here,” said Leah, gasping for breath, staring out from the tempest within.

  Desdemona looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. A smile crossed her features and she nodded at Leah in approval.

  “Human,” she said, rolling the word around in her mouth as if it meant something new to her. “You're stronger than I thought. You should have just let me kill him – clean and easy.”

  “And illegal,” said Leah.

  “Since when do I care about the law?” Desdemona shrugged.

  “Since when did you care about the selk?” Leah shot back.

  “Do I?” she asked, an eyebrow arched. “I was passing by. I was hungry, he was convenient. You're welcome.”

  She pushed him into Leah's hands and walked off down the street, hips ticking in time to music they could not hear, lighting a cigarette as she went.

  Sebastian looked down at Leah, but did not struggle or make a move to escape.

  Leah unhooked her handcuffs and arrested him. She led him away in silence.

  The selk were motionless, staring at the spot where he had been sta
nding. Leah cast a glance over her shoulder, and saw Dorian and Magnus faintly glowing in the evening light.

  ***

  Chief Ben met Leah at the door of the precinct. He gazed for a long time at the body of Geoffrey, with the soul of Sebastian now looking out from behind his eyes.

  Leah pushed Sebastian into a cell. He put a hand against the glass and looked mournfully out at her. She turned the lock and walked back to where Chief Ben was waiting.

  “Sebastian,” grumbled Chief Ben ponderously. “I can’t say I am pleased to meet him.”

  Leah looked at her boss.

  “Do you mean you knew Geoffrey was Sebastian?” Leah said. “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “I didn’t know before,” said the chief. “But it is obvious now. Can’t you see the light around him? His aura, for want of a better word.”

  Leah sat down heavily in a chair. She rested her chin on her hand.

  “So I guess that means the date's off,” she said, mostly to herself.

  She looked over at the glass cell, at Geoffrey – or Sebastian. He looked defeated, his eyes were rimmed with red as though they were filling with tears.

  “Is there a way to make Geoffrey the primary personality?” Leah asked. “A way to separate them and destroy Sebastian?”

  “I'm afraid not, Leah,” said Chief Ben. “Any spell will only have the effect of reverting Sebastian to himself. Geoffrey does not exist.”

  “But Geoffrey doesn't know that?” Leah asked.

  “No,” said the chief. “It's a pity, really it is.”

  “So…what is Sebastian?” she asked, “I can tell he’s not human.”

  “He’s a new kind of monster,” said Chief Ben. “There’s no word for him yet. Folklore and stories need emotional impact, solid belief, some kind of trauma, perhaps, to become a reality. He has secrets I’d like to know.”

  Leah nodded to Chief Ben, weary. With a heavy heart, she left the station for the night.