The Selkie Sorceress (Seal Island Trilogy, Book 3) (30 page)

“The king is prepared to hold up his end of the bargain?”

“He is.”

Moira smiled. “The selkies will be pleased.”

A shadow crossed the warrior’s face. “We have waited a long time to avenge the murder of the king’s son.”

Moira stepped into the shallow water. A school of minnows darted away, disappearing into the deeper water. “And we have waited a long time to be out from under your rule.”

“As soon as we have Brigid in our charge, the boundaries will be dropped and the selkies will be free to roam the ocean.”

Moira lifted her eyes to the ocean beyond the wide mouth of the bay. When the selkies found out what she’d done for them, how she’d freed them from the mermaids’ rule, they would beg her to lead them. And the moment they crowned her as queen, she would be free of this curse.

“The white selkie?” Moira asked, her voice rising as she related the last deal in their bargain. “Nuala will be the last?”

The merman nodded. “She will be the last.”

Moira watched him dive, his long glittering tail propelling him back into the depths of the ocean to deliver her message to the king.

One day, a long time from now, she might find it in her heart to forgive her daughter. Once the mermaids lifted the boundaries, they would not watch the selkies so closely, and she would be able to re-introduce Glenna to the sea. But the mermaids and selkies would never know the truth—the
real
truth—that Glenna was the merprince’s daughter and
Moira
was the one who took his life, not Brigid.

Tonight, when the Imbolc fires burned across the islands, the mermaids would come for Brigid. They would take her away and Moira would claim her rightful place on the throne. Nuala would be the last white selkie, and there would never be another white selkie born to usurp the throne. Moira’s line would
never
be broken.

Moira gazed out at the sea, at the beautiful sea glistening in the sun. A dark shape swimming beneath the surface caught her eye. She narrowed her eyes as a sleek black head bobbed out of the water. “Well, well, well,” she said quietly, “looks like I’m not the only one who came to welcome Brigid back.”

Nuala floated in the bay, gazing back at her.

“Perhaps I underestimated you,” Moira said, taking another step into the water. “I won’t make that mistake again.” She lifted her arms toward the sky. Sunlight streamed from her palms and she aimed the blinding beams at Nuala. But the selkie didn’t move. She stayed where she was, floating in the water.

A cool wind rolled over the hills, submerging them in a thick blanket of fog.

Bells rang out all over the countryside, and Moira’s skin began to burn. Blisters broke out on her arms and neck. She gasped, staggering back to the sand. Nuala watched as Moira disappeared in a puff of smoke.

BRIGID BREATHED IN
the mists, letting the cool ocean air fill her lungs. Her toes pressed into the parched earth, the thin webbing between them tightening with every step. Snatches of memories came back to her—memories of the sea, of her childhood, of falling in love.

With every step closer to the ocean, she remembered more. She scanned the surface of the water for a tail, for the flash of green fins. Was her lover still out there? Would he still be waiting for her? Would he still recognize her after all this time?

“Brigid!”

Her long hair swung like ropes around her shoulders as she turned. But it was only the man from the truck, the man who had brought her here.

He held out a folded black cloth. “You forgot this…in my car.”

Fog crept up, wrapping around her wrists. The wet air brushed against her cheeks. Church bells rang over the hills, but she shook her head, backing away from him. “I don’t need it.”

He lowered his hand to his side. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk with you?”

“I’m sure.” She turned away from him. She needed to go the rest of the way alone. Lifting the hem of her skirt, she picked up her pace. But she could hear him following her, his footsteps getting closer.

She broke into a run, stumbling over the rocky path as the land dipped and rolled into the sea. She spied a white beach in the distance and she sprinted toward it. She tripped when her feet sunk into the soft sand and Neil caught her elbow, steadying her.

“You said you were meeting someone,” Neil said, scanning the deserted beach. “Who were you coming to meet?”

The waves crested, splashing over the beach. Brigid’s breath caught as a rush of seawater spilled over her bare feet. She remembered the feeling of weightlessness, of swimming into the arms of her lover. “Someone from my past,” she whispered, pulling away from him. “He’ll be here.”

“I don’t see anyone,” Neil said.

Brigid’s blood roared in her ears as she walked into the waves. The water snatched at the hem of her dress and she waded deeper, until the sea came up to her waist. Her fingertips trailed over the surface, and her heart leapt when a shadow edged toward her through the fog.

But it was only a seal—a lone seal with pale eyes the color of winter frost. She stared at the seal through the mists. Those eyes…they looked so familiar.

Where had she seen them before?

Her wet skirt dragged through the water as she walked closer, but with every step the seal edged away, leading her further down the beach.

“Brigid,” Neil called insistently, trailing after her. “I think you should come out of the water.”

She ignored him, following the seal until they came to a curved wooden boat pulled up onto the sand.

The seal paused beside it, letting out a quiet croon.

The waves surged and retreated as Brigid walked slowly out of the water. Would this boat take her to him—to her lover?

The seal’s eyes pleaded up at her, and Brigid grasped the rope in her hands.

“What are you doing?” Neil asked.

The seal dove into the waves, and Brigid dragged the curragh toward the water. Wherever her lover was, she would find him. They would find a way to be together again.

“Brigid!” Neil grabbed the rope from her. “This is crazy!”

“No,” she said, snatching it back and dragging the boat into the surf. “This is where I belong.”

“You don’t even know if it floats!”

Brigid climbed into the boat, grasping the driftwood paddle lying across the seat. “It floats.”

Neil ran after her, splashing through the surf and hooking a hand around the edge of the boat. “Let me take you back to town. Let me get you something to eat, find you a place to rest for the night.”

Brigid dipped the paddle into the waves and pushed away from the beach. “I have been resting for far too long.”

The seal with the pale eyes surfaced beside the boat. Neil stumbled back as dozens more skimmed through the waves, surrounding her, forming a circle around the curragh, and pushing her out to sea.

Brigid lifted the paddle out of the water. She could hear the swish of fins beneath her, and the ocean lapping at the hull. Behind her, the mists swallowed what was left of the man standing helplessly in the waves.

SAM TAPPED THE
brakes of Glenna’s Mercedes as the tires skidded on a pile of loose chippings. Tightening his grip on the wheel, he hugged the edge of the narrow road that wound through the hills of Connemara. “Who else knows the truth about you being the daughter of a selkie and a merman?”

“Only my mother,” Glenna answered, “I grew up underwater, but I was well hidden. No one knew I existed and no one ever came to the sea witch’s lair unless they wanted to make a trade.”

She pointed to the right when they came to a stop sign. “Even then, few were lucky enough to make it all the way to the cave. It’s not an easy journey.”

“How did you end up on land?”

“When I was sixteen, a boy about my age came to trade a priceless family heirloom for a potion to heal his dying sister. My mother was out, and I was not allowed to show myself to anyone. She had warned me that no one would understand what I was, and I could be in great danger if anyone found out the truth. But I was afraid if I waited for her to return this boy would lose his sister, and I knew enough about magic to help him. I fixed the potion and was about to reveal myself and make the trade when she came back.”

Glenna kept her eyes peeled for signs leading to a new housing development along the bay as they rounded the final hill into town. “My mother was furious, and she killed the boy on the spot. The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital bed in Dublin and the doctor was telling me a fisherman had found me washed up on the beach.” She looked out the window. “You know the rest of the story.”

“But Dublin’s on the other side of the country,” Sam protested. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to send you somewhere on the west coast?”

“The more crowded the city, the less likely anyone would try to help. It’s easier to lock a crazy person up, to let her slip through the cracks than deal with the issue. My mother knew no one would believe me when I woke up and tried to tell them the truth. She wanted to break me down, to teach me a lesson so that when she finally came back into my life, I would be desperate for her forgiveness and willing to do anything she asked.”

“Things didn’t exactly work out the way she planned,” Sam murmured.

“No,” Glenna said. “Not exactly. But if it hadn’t been for Brigid—if I hadn’t met her by accident in that institution—my mother might have gotten what she wanted. Without Brigid’s stories, and the bond that formed between us, the system might have broken me down. I might have given up and decided I truly was crazy.”

Sam put his hand on hers. “I doubt that.”

Glenna took a deep breath. “Brigid saved me, Sam. I owe her my sanity, and my life.” She looked out the window, scouring the country roads for a blue lorry. “We have to find her.”

“We will,” Sam said, pulling into a colorful downtown filled with pubs and sweater shops. Wisps of fog danced over the mossy green hills dipping into the bay. “Glenna,” Sam asked slowly. “Do you have a pelt?”

“No.”

“Can you go underwater?”

“I can change back, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Have you ever…changed back?”

“No.”

Sam turned onto the road leading down to the bay. “If your kind is forbidden, what would the selkies and mermaids do to you if they found out the truth?”

“I don’t know what the selkies would do,” Glenna admitted. “But the mermaids…” She trailed off, sitting up as she spotted a blue lorry with a
Clifden Construction
logo parked in front of a waterfront restaurant. “There it is!”

Sam braked and they climbed out of the car. “He could be inside,” Sam said, already striding to the door of the restaurant. But Glenna paused in the street when she saw all the chairs were overturned and the potted plants were on their sides, cracked with soil spilling out of them.

“Wait.” She pointed to a man walking toward them from the trail leading over the hills. He was stumbling as if he was either drunk or in a daze. She shaded her eyes. It looked like the man she’d seen briefly in her vision. “I think that could be him.”

Glenna raised her voice. “Is this your truck?”