The Selkie Enchantress (21 page)

But instead of bringing a land-man into the ocean, she fell in love with one of her own kind. She eloped with Rowan and they had a child, a sweet selkie child she’d loved more than anything in this whole world. But Rowan and her son were killed in an accident, when two boats collided on the surface of the sea where they liked to play.

In her grief, she blamed the selkie kingdom and their backward traditions for her loss. She should have done then what she was doing now. She should have chosen a land-man—
any
land-man—and taken him with her into the sea. But she vowed one final rebellion against the selkie kingdom.

Instead of choosing a land-man, she went to Moira. She asked the sea witch to help her find a suitable child, a boy who could rule beside her as her son. She knew no man would ever replace her Rowan, but maybe in time she could learn to love this boy the same way she had loved her son. Moira assured her she knew the perfect child, and Owen would hardly be missed.

Panic lodged like a stone in Nuala’s throat. Had she lied about that, too? Had she lied about everything? She had never meant to hurt anybody. All she had ever wanted was a family. But because of what she’d done, she was cast out of her kingdom, exiled from her home.

For years all she’d had was Owen. She had tried to love him. She had tried to raise him as her own. But he had never filled the hole inside her. And the loneliness had eaten at them both until she knew the only way forward would be to accept her fate and find the land-man who would be their key back into the selkie kingdom.

Nuala struggled to breathe. She had gone back to Moira then. And Moira had led her to Liam. She could never have done this alone. White selkies were linked too closely to the sea, their pelts more fragile, more delicate than regular selkies’ pelts. The longer her seal-skin was exposed to the air, the weaker it became. Even these three short days were a risk. But she had taken it. She had made the trade.

Moira smoothed a hand down her dress, her bracelets glittering in the firelight. “You weren’t seeing clearly when you came to me the first time. And you’re not seeing clearly now. You could have chosen a suitable mate, and surrendered to your fate. You chose this path, Nuala. Not me.”

“You knew,” Nuala whispered. She had foolishly traded her powers to the sea witch in exchange for this time on land. She had thought Moira
wanted
to help her. But all Moira had ever wanted was power. “You knew the whole time that they wouldn’t accept Owen? That they would send us away?”

“Of course I knew. Just like I knew that Owen would never be enough. Nothing is ever enough.” Moira walked back to the circle of rocks, the flames bursting out of the sand. “The only thing certain in this world, is that everyone wants more.”

If there was ever a time in her life when she needed to turn on a light, this would be it. Caitlin sat in her candlelit cottage, the rain thrumming against the walls like witch’s fingers, tapping an impatient rhythm, beating against the thick layers of paint for the truth.
The truth
.

What
was
the truth? She didn’t even know anymore. Her last log was burning down in the hearth and she scooted closer to the dying flames, tugging a blanket tighter around her shoulders. There had to be a reasonable, logical explanation for all of this. She hadn’t been thinking straight since the moment Nuala and Owen had arrived. She’d been letting her twisted emotions string her along, but it was time she got control of them. There was no way what Glenna was suggesting was possible. It simply wasn’t possible.

But why, then, couldn’t she sleep? Why couldn’t she stop running all these crazy possibilities over and over in her mind? What
if
her baby hadn’t died? What
if
Owen was in some kind of danger? What
if
Nuala was a sea witch? What
if
that was what the selkies were trying to tell her when they pushed her baby’s cradle into Owen’s arms?

She jumped at the sudden knock on her door. It was probably one of her neighbors coming to check on her, to see if she needed anything. If she didn’t answer the door they’d poke their head in anyway, to make sure everything was alright. Dropping the blanket, she rose and walked to the door. She pulled it open and the scent of saltwater and kelp rushed in from the ocean, colliding with the dizzying scent of loosened earth.

Liam’s cobalt eyes seared into hers. Caitlin felt a sudden rushing, like rivers of rainwater sucking her under. His long black coat flapped around him like wings in the wind. He strode into the cottage, sweeping back his dark hood. His thick black hair glistened with drops of water. The shadow along his jaw was even darker now. His wet shirt clung to his broad shoulders and chest, the thin dark gray cotton plastered to the hard outline of muscles. His eyes never left hers as he closed the door. “I think we should finish that conversation we started earlier.”

The sharp snap of the lock clicking shut set off a warning somewhere deep inside her. His eyes were so blue, so beautifully blue, and so much like Owen’s, she started to tremble. “What conversation?”

Liam dug a crumpled object from his pocket, holding it out to her. “The one about the fairy tale.”

Caitlin reached for the rose, her fingers brushing the smooth green stem. It was bent and twisted, but the petals were snow white and perfectly shaped—glowing iridescent in the candlelit cottage. “Where did you get this?”

“It washed up on the pier.”

“The… pier?”

“You were right.” Liam took a step closer. She had to tilt her head to look up at him. The wind whistled through the strings of the chimes, a restless chorus of caution singing in the storm. “What you said earlier. It’s all connected.”

“I’m not sure about that anymore,” Caitlin whispered. Because things were getting too close now. They were stepping over that line she never wanted to cross. If all of it was connected, she wasn’t ready for it. Not now, maybe not ever. “Do you… remember anything else?”

“I remember you.” He lifted a hand to her cheek. Her skin warmed under his touch. She could feel the calluses as he skimmed a thumb over her cheekbone, could smell the sea on his rough palm. “I remember this.”

Caitlin placed a shaky hand on his chest. She could not let this happen now. Not after everything that happened today. “Liam.” One of them had to be rational. One of them had to keep both feet on the ground. The scent of the rose swirled into the air between them, deliriously, intoxicatingly sweet. “If this rose has something to do with the fairy tale you can’t remember, do you know what it means?”

“No.” His strong hand curved around the back of her neck. “But I think you do.”

Icy shivers danced over her skin. “What do you mean?”

“I heard you went down to the beach today.” His other hand settled on the curve of her waist, drawing her against him. “Care to explain what you found?”

“It was… nothing,” she stammered. “Just a piece of driftwood…”

“I’ve seen it, Caitlin. It’s not
nothing
.” Something like sadness flickered deep in Liam’s eyes. “What happened?” The sickening sweet scent of the rose grew stronger. “You’re the one who turned
me
on to fairy tales and magic. What happened to make you stop believing?”

“That was a long time ago.” Caitlin’s fingers curled around the stem. “We were children.” She winced as a thorn bit into her thumb.

“And isn’t it always the children who seem to know the truth, when we’re all too blind to see it?” Flames crackled in the hearth. The rain pounded against the roof. “There’s a reason this flower washed up at my feet today.”

And there was a reason the sea sent that cradle to her and Owen. A reason that white rose was growing on her son’s memorial. A reason it pulled Owen into a trance when he’d touched its frozen petals. A reason why when he’d come out of it, he’d called her ‘mum.’ Caitlin felt her throat constrict. “Maybe someone ordered them from the mainland. Maybe…”

A spark, a flame hissing to life, smoldered deep in his eyes. “You can’t explain your way out of this one.”

“But…”

He let out a low growl as he pulled her against him. She felt those coils of frustration snap as he crushed his mouth to hers. He tasted of sea salt and rainwater. The scent of him—soap, salt, male—tangled with the scent of the rose and she melted against him.

The hungry kiss stole her breath. Her lips parted, their tongues tangling. Those last shreds of resistance started to slip. He yanked her against him. The rose dropped from her hand. The petals spilled onto the floor at their feet, shimmering like glass. Like silver moonlight. Until one by one, the shells of ice softened and turned to liquid gold.

***

Kelsey grabbed Owen’s wet shirtsleeve, dragging him back into the barroom. His sneakers scuffed over the worn wooden floorboards, leaving a trail of water in their wake. “You mean, they do exist?”

“Aye.” Brennan Lockley nodded. “Though I haven’t heard tell of it since I was a child. It’s not a story that comes around often.”

Kelsey sank into the chair closest to Brennan, pulling Owen down into the one beside her. “Why not?”

“Because a white selkie only comes to land once every hundred years or so. And she’s never here for long. She only has three days to get what she came here for. And there are few who remember ever seeing her at all.”

“What does she come here for?” Owen asked.

“To find a husband. A land-man, they call it.”

“Why does she want to find a husband?” Kelsey’s gaze darted to Owen. “Why can’t she marry a selkie-man?”

“Because that’s not her fate.” Brennan settled back into the bar stool, the legs squeaking under his weight. “A white selkie is the most powerful of all the selkies. She lives an unnaturally long life. And she’s the only selkie who can turn a land-man into one of her own kind.”

“She can turn a human man into a selkie?” Kelsey’s eyes went wide. “Why would she want to do that?”

“When a white selkie takes a land-man back with her into the sea, they become king and queen. Together, they rule the ocean. And it is with this man and his connection to the land that she can watch over the safe passage of ships. To make sure the fishermen always have fish in their nets. To shelter the harbors and protect the islands from the worst of the storms. Together, they maintain the peace between us.”

“It’s a sacrifice,” Sam murmured.

“Aye.” Brennan nodded. “You could call it that. But it benefits all of us.”

“But…” Owen stammered. “What if the land-man doesn’t want to go?”

“It’s not a question of want. No man can resist a white selkie’s spell. Once her enchantment is cast, he will lose all memories of his home and his family. Of the ones he may have loved who came before her.”

“But what if he’s meant to be with someone else?”

Brennan smiled sadly. “I’m afraid that’s not her concern.”

Owen shot up, out of his chair. “But there must be a way to stop her!”

“Why would you want to? Her failure means terrible storms. Coastal towns wiped out. Island villages decimated. Ships sinking. Fisherman losing their jobs.”

Kelsey leapt up when Owen ran for the door. “Owen, wait!”

He wrenched the door open, running out into the storm. Kelsey dashed after him, bracing herself against the wind tearing over the cliffs. “Owen!”

He whirled. Rain spat into his eyes. “I was wrong!”

She splashed through the puddles, closing the distance between them. “About what?”

“My mother’s not the sea witch from
The Little Mermaid
. She’s a white selkie!”

Kelsey searched his frightened eyes. “We don’t know that yet. Come back inside. Let’s talk to my mum. She’ll know what to do.”

“Don’t you see?” Owen cried. “She’s going to take your uncle!”

Uncle Liam?

“That’s what she came here for! It all makes sense now!”

“
What
all makes sense?”

“The palace! The painting! The petals falling off the white rose!”

“What palace? What painting? What
rose
?”

He told her about the rose, what he saw when he touched the frozen petals, how Glenna had brought over a painting of the exact same palace this morning. “I was wrong. The petals aren’t marking my time on the island. They’re marking
his
time! But what’s going to happen to
me
when the last petal falls?”

“Come on.” Kelsey grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him back toward the pub. “We’re going to tell my mum, now!”

“No!” He snatched his arm away. “You can’t tell her. You can’t tell anyone!”

“Why not?”

“Because if they don’t believe us, they’ll tell her! They’ll bring her into it!” His eyes were wild with fear as they darted over his shoulder to the cottage at the edge of the village. “I don’t know what she’ll do to me if she thinks I know!”

“But what if that’s the only way to stop her? We can’t let her
take
Uncle Liam!”

“There has to be another way!”

Kelsey’s eyes went wide. “You said there was a rose? Growing out at the cottage by the bogs?”