Seven Tears at High Tide (12 page)

“Naida,” she says, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

“What?” Kevin blinks at her, and then blushes and looks away from her bare torso.

“It's my name.” Naida shoots him an unimpressed look. She pats the empty patch of sand next to her until Kevin sits down.

“Oh! You're Morgan's sister.”

Naida grins mischievously, and Morgan nudges her warily. “Do not—”

“Please, it's my little brother's boyfriend,” Naida says, voice tinkling like bells. “I've been hearing about you all summer. Is it true you have a special shrine for your rocks and each of them has a name?”

“It's a display case, and the specimens do have labels, but it's not like they're my pets or anything…”

Morgan huffs and shuffles off to talk to another selkie, someone who has shifted into a male close to Naida's age who pulls him away with a barrage of questions.

Naida focuses her startling green eyes intently on him. “Kevin, I'm just letting you know—”

“I'm not going to hurt him,” Kevin blurts out. “He's the best thing that's ever happened to me. You don't have to do the older sibling talk with me, okay? It's not a quick summer fling or some­thing like that. I really want to—I really see myself with him in the future. Like, this year I'll be doing college applications and stuff, right? I figured he might want to go with me—he's not bad, the way his SAT practice scores have been. I mean, he'd need to work on his math, but his verbal score is pretty good. Which is pretty cool, you know. He told me about all the knowledge he gets from the Sea, and he's already really smart, so I don't think it would be a huge push for him to try for college. And I can ask my dad for help with his paperwork or something, build a paper trail of grades and stuff to show?

“Or, um, even if he didn't want to apply to college, he could go to community college, too. Like, you don't need to have prerequisites or high school transcripts? And it'd be neat, since Morgan wants to do marine biology. I figure he can transform anytime and swim with the fishes… or eat them, I dunno. I think he might like it, whatever it is…”

Naida looks sad all of a sudden. “He would. He's always been a curious guy, and he's had many strange theories about why fish do what they do, and go where they go…” She sighs, then bites her lip. She opens her mouth to say something else, but Morgan returns before she can.

“I think we're going to sing the story of Berend.” Morgan's eyes glitter in excitement. “It's a little bit like your Mr. Darin's song. It's about losing love and finding it again.”

“Okay,” Kevin says. He's comfortable sitting on the sand, cross­ing his legs, feeling the sun warm his skin. His swimsuit is already starting to dry, and the selkies come closer to him.

Of those who are in human shape, some have similar features, but if Morgan hadn't told him they were his family, Kevin never would have guessed. Maybe they're not all related? Naida's features resemble Linneth's, but are different from Morgan's. The selkies' skin tones range from pale, like Linneth and Morgan, to tan, like Naida and a few others, but Kevin can see a number of darker-skinned selkies as well. Does this herd have selkies from all over the world?

A few toddlers like Marin curl up in laps in their human form, and others waddle around as chubby pups, nosing at an adult until someone strokes them affectionately. One of the pups crawls into Morgan's lap, and he laughs. The pup curls up contentedly, blinking at Kevin.

Kevin waves and smiles, and the seal hiccups. His pelt tumbles off his chubby little body and he turns into a toddler with flyaway black curls. The toddler waves back and tugs the pelt around himself like a blanket.

Linneth clears her throat and smiles. She sings; her voice is a high, resonating alto, the first note light and playful. The other selkies join her—those in human form and those as seals—and it's a bright, happy tune.

Kevin listens, watching the mingled joy and happiness. He can feel it: the emotion of finding love, finding companionship. The sentiment seeps into his skin, as it did when he listened to Morgan sing, now multiplied by a force of twenty. Each voice finds another in perfect harmony, and even if Kevin doesn't understand the language, he can follow the story.

Linneth sings the main part about her character finding joy and happiness, and another selkie sings the lover's part, voice weaving with hers. There are meetings with friends, pieces of the story told by the others, more characters are introduced and then there is a misunderstanding, and the lover has to leave. Linneth closes her eyes. Her voice is clear and strong, and everyone looks up to her, especially Morgan.

Then the song turns sad and longing, and Kevin feels tears well up in his eyes.

Morgan nudges his shoulder, takes his hand and squeezes, and Kevin shakes himself. The song ends and there's a murmur of approval. Kevin isn't sure what to say when many questioning eyes turn toward him. “That was beautiful. I could feel—feel the music in my bones, the happiness, the sorrow.” He bobs his head in deference. “Thank you for letting me be here.”

“Of course,” Linneth says softly, her words tumbling over one another prettily. “My son is happy. What more could I ask?”

Something about the way she says it seems strange to Kevin, but he forgets when Morgan, beaming at him, leans over to kiss his cheek. And then he drags him over to the cliffside to see the unique rock face, and Kevin forgets about everything other than Morgan's hand in his and his smile as they explore the area.

Twelve.

It's quite late
by the time Morgan swims back after taking Kevin home. The moon is high, a thin sliver gleaming against the dark. Morgan lets the tide wash him onto the beach. He hums happily, transforms on the shore and skips across the sand. Feet are so much fun to walk on, and Morgan's making up for the lifetime of keeping to his seal form by enjoying the feel of sand on his skin, the cool air brushing past his hair.

“It doesn't take that long to swim to the Moon's Eye,” says a voice to his right.

“Good evening, Micah.”

Micah steps out of the shadows, his pelt draped across his shoulders, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Did you have fun?” he asks, grinning lewdly at Morgan.

Morgan blushes. “We kissed,” he mumbles. “It was nice.”

Micah saunters forward. “I spent last summer on a Request.” He leans into Morgan's space, his finger arched above Morgan's neck where just moments before Kevin kissed him eagerly. It felt nice, and Morgan sighed into the touch, wondering if he should do the same, if Kevin wanted him to touch him elsewhere.

“You know the old stories of why we go ashore for Requests.”

“Yearning hearts. We all know the stories.” Morgan swats Micah's hands away.

“The landwalkers, the lonely ones, would cry their hearts into the Sea, or their longing would carry across the distance, and we would hear it. And someone would go there and ease that loneliness.”

“Yes? What are you getting at?”

“Oh, you silly pup. Have you not mated with this Kevin of yours yet?”

Morgan almost trips over nothing. “What—that would be—”

He thinks about the mating he knows, of seals undulating against one another on the beach, sand flying everywhere, cries of passion. He knows humans do something else—he's seen a lot of movies with Kevin where he assumes the characters mate with each other, but with everything they've watched so far Morgan can only think of it as kissing. Horizontally? Does Kevin want to do this?

Morgan's cheeks heat up. “I don't think that's part of his Request. He wanted someone to spend time with. That's what I'm doing.”

Micah bumps him on the shoulder. His eyes are fonder than Morgan remembers, and he realizes Micah hasn't said anything rude or teased him about his human heritage. “I mean for you, aren't you curious how they do it? It's fun, you know.”

Morgan thinks about one of the movies they watched, where the lovers embraced passionately. He and Kevin kissed for a long time after that, moving around on Kevin's small bed, bodies close together, skin warm and hot, and Morgan is curious whysometimes Kevin springs away, flushed with embarrassment. It's obvious to Morgan that it's about mating, and he's a curious, especially remembering the diagrams and pamphlets and supplies they'd looked at, but Kevin never seems to want to talk about it, just gets completely flustered and changes the subject to hiking or going out to eat.

“Okay, maybe I'll ask him about it,” Morgan says. It's clear that Kevin is shy about the idea, but it might be good to ask if it is something he wants to do.

“Good.” Micah smiles again, relaxes his posture.

Morgan narrows his eyes. “Why are you so interested in my mating habits?”

Micah shrugs. “Just looking out for you.”

“When I was a pup I got caught in a riptide and you were laughing the whole time.”

Micah shuffles his feet, eyes downcast. “Well, Naida pulled you out; you were never in any danger. And it was funny—but okay, you're right. That was wrong of me. I just—I want you to experience everything you can, you know.”

“Okay…”

Why is Micah looking at me like I'm breakable?

Linneth appears behind them, the looming bulk of her seal form silhouetted against the scant moonlight. “You don't have to tiptoe around it anymore, Micah,” she says softly. “I'm going to tell him tonight.”

“Tell me what?” Morgan asks, not able to help the note of fear that crawls into his throat.

Micah sniffs, lurches forward, and hugs Morgan suddenly, clasps him tightly to his chest. Morgan pats his back awkwardly.

“Your mother is looking for you,” Linneth says to Micah, who nods and walks off.

Linneth jerks her head forward, and Morgan follows her back to the shoreline. She wades into the water; Morgan transforms into a seal and follows her around the cove.

“Now the rest of the herd can't hear us. How was the rest of your night with Kevin?”

“It was fine,” Morgan says. “What's going on? You haven't done midnight swims with me since I was a pup.”

Linneth rubs a flipper fondly over his head. “Do you remember why we stopped?”

Morgan flops onto his back, floating, watching the stars. “The others accused you of playing favorites.”

Linneth makes a humming noise. “It's true. You have a special place in my heart, always.” Her voice is soothing, like the cool water brushing over him, familiar and safe. The night sky stretches out dark and infinite; stars gleam in the distance, singing their songs far away. She splashes him playfully. They swim together, circling one another, and it's easy to pretend Morgan is a child again, with no worries at all, just the waves brushing past him, his mother swimming alongside him, the stars blinking above. It's a warm, comfortable silence, but he can't fully enjoy it, knowing there's something she needs to tell him.

Finally Morgan blurts out, “So what do you need to tell me? Does it have something to do with why Micah's trying to be nice to me now?”

Linneth sighs. “Oh, my darling. I never wanted this life for you.”

Morgan turns to look at her. “You mean the Request? But you told me it was an honor to be chosen by the Sea…”

His mother shakes her head. “No, that is an honor, and you're doing wonderfully—I just—it's my mistake, and I'm sorry that you'll have to—you'll have to…”

Morgan is surprised to see his mother break from her normal composed self, tears welling up in her eyes. “Mother, what—?”

“Morgan, you must know that the Sea has long discouraged any mingling between those of the Land and the Sea, especially for us selkies, considering our ability to interact with the humans, even to walk amongst the landwalkers in secret. The Sea is a possessive, jealous mother, and never wants us to forget our own heritage. There was a treaty made long ago: We keep to our own realms outside of Requests and our blood should never mingle. If a child was born of such a union, that child would live, but only until their seventeenth year.”

Morgan flounders, his body dipping below the water's surface. He splutters and comes back up for air. “I'm going to die?”

“No. You will have to choose. Live as a seal, or live as a human. You cannot be both.”

“That isn't fair.”

He's always found the Sea's thrum of magic comforting, the way the knowledge sinks into him whenever he asks, but he feels betrayed as he listens to a whole history of halflings who grew to seventeen years of age and were given a choice—stay as a human, lose all memory of the herd they grew up with, or remain a seal, never able to shift again.

The Sea has little information on those who took the human path, only that they forgot about having been a selkie. It also becomes clear why he's never met another halfling—no, wait, Morgan
has.
There was that one herd with a seal that they treated like family. Morgan had been confused at the time, but she must have been a halfling who had made her choice.

The enormity of what his mother isn't saying sinks in—why Micah was being nice to him, why everyone in the herd listened carefully to his stories.

“I know it isn't fair,” Linneth says. “I am sorry. I would not have—I was selfish, and kept you for myself. It was a time when I wasn't sure I was ever going to be able to return to the Sea, and I thought, if I must be trapped forever on land, having a child would be so—” She sighs as if lost in her memories. “He was excited about the baby, as was I, and we were happy for a little while, but I couldn't forget that it wasn't my choice; he made that choice for me. I don't think I ever forgave your father for wanting to keep me beyond the terms of his Request.”

Morgan waits, listening. He's never heard her speak so openly about his father before.

“He was a fisherman. Quite handsome, with a sharp sense of humor. I loved him, and he wanted me to stay. I think if he had asked—” Linneth sighs again, her body undulating as she swims along. “It doesn't matter, because he didn't.”

Suddenly, Morgan is angry at his father. Even though he's heard the story so many times, his mother has never said so much about this man's effect on her life. And
his
life.

“You were born here, on this beach.” Linneth looks towards the hidden cove where the other selkies are settling in to sleep for the night, just shadows on the sand. “I was too pregnant to swim very far when I left, and ended up here. I brought us back here because I thought, if you chose to be human, you should have resources. I don't know of many halflings, but most have chosen to remain seals, stay with the herd. But you've always been strange, hunting on your own, swimming far. And though you never shifted until this summer, I knew there was a chance you might want—”

“I don't want to leave my family.”

“If you stay a seal, you won't ever be able to shift again. You won't be able to see Kevin, or talk to him at all.”

Morgan falters, and he swims ahead, angrily making his way through the waves and the otherwise peaceful night. Why can't he have everything? Be able to see Kevin whenever he wants, shift whenever he wants?

“Morgan.” Linneth swims up to him quietly and extends a comforting flipper to his back.

“The Sea says if I'm human I won't remember,” Morgan says, choking up. “I won't know you or any of the herd and I won't remember Kevin, either, so what's the point?”

“A chance, if you want it. There are dangers, those who would harm us and other supernatural beings. You would be safer if you didn't remember. And you wouldn't be alone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you think it coincidence that I brought our herd to sum­mer here? A place I haven't visited in, say… seventeen years?”

It takes a moment for Morgan to realize what she's talking about. “My father. You're saying he lives here. In Piedras Blancas.”

“If you choose to live as a human, he could—I could ask him to help. I know he would. You wouldn't have to be helpless, with no memory of who you were or who you could be. They have things, writings, ways to record—”

“Yes, I know. You think there's a way he could help me remem­ber who I was?”

“You won't be able to remember you were a selkie. But you could make a note of Kevin, your feelings…”

Morgan sighs. “When do I have to choose?”

“The new moon.”

“That's in four days.” Morgan looks at the barest sliver of light hanging in the sky. “Kevin asked me to—he wanted to do something special on Saturday, he said for my birthday, the way humans celebrate it.”

“That's fine. Go spend time with your lover. It is the end of the summer anyway, and the end of the terms of your Request. Say goodbye. Or tell him to find you when you see him again. Whatever you want to do, it will be fine.” She looks resigned, as if she knows it won't be, and Morgan can see the same bittersweet glimmer in her eyes that she used to have when talking about his father. He wonders if she's already decided to think of Morgan as lost. “I only want you to be happy.”

Morgan wants to cry, to ask how he could be happy if he's being forced to make this impossible choice—if he could have Kevin, but not his family, or vice versa. He keeps silent, though, knowing that look on his mother's face, knowing she's close to tears and doesn't want to cry in front of her son.

His mother places a gentle kiss on his forehead and swims back to shore, letting Morgan stew in his own thoughts.

He looks up at the dark sky, swims on his back, listens to the Sea whisper around him, as if the Sea is waiting for a question, ready to give him more information, more stories of what other halflings have done.

Morgan has so many questions. Why had no one told him sooner? Would his decision to take the Request have been the same had he been told at the beginning of the summer? But for the first time in his life, Morgan doesn't ask—he doesn't care what the Sea knows.

Morgan's certain that before meeting Kevin he would have accepted just being a seal. He wouldn't be able to shift, but since he'd never shifted before, he wouldn't have minded. And he would still be able to be with his family. He would not be able to talk to his family as he could now, but he would still be around.

But now? He knows the Request is only for the summer, and then the herd will leave, following the current to wherever his mother decides to take them for the next few months. It has always seemed possible that Morgan could return to Piedras Blancas, the next summer maybe, and see Kevin again. At the very least, he could tell Kevin goodbye and promise to return.

But this? Morgan will be a shell of himself, whatever he chooses. As a seal he would get to stay with the family, swim and hunt, live out the rest of his days with them, but he would be like—he would be mundane, as he understands it.

And as a human? With no memory? Even if his father agreed to help, would he be the same person?

“What do I do?” Morgan asks the night sky.

The stars wink back at him, and there is no answer.