The Selkie Sorceress (Seal Island Trilogy, Book 3) (35 page)

Moira’s eyes flashed as a collective gasp rose from the mermaids and selkies.

“I know you tricked Caitlin into believing her infant child died, and then you stole Owen so you could use him as leverage against Nuala ten years later.” Sam side-stepped as flames streaked over the surface of the water. “You tricked Nuala into believing you were on her side, and then you stole her powers when she chose the wrong land-man—a land-man
you
led her to!”

Moira staggered back as he strode into the tidal pool. The sparks faded to smoke around his feet. “I know you tricked your daughter into believing there was a curse on her, and then you stole every man she ever loved.” Sam grabbed her wrist, hauling her to him. “
You
stole those men from Glenna.
You
took their lives. Because, without them,
you
would be nothing.”

He sliced his knife through the sash of her dress. The material ripped, and he seized the crown, holding it up, high into the night. “It’s time they knew the truth.”

OWEN SCANNED THE
dark waters, searching for Nuala. He struggled to see through the stirred-up sand and broken shells, but he stayed close to the bottom, dodging the sparkling scales of silver and green.

Flashes of lightning lit up the water and he spotted a brown tail amidst the mass of mermaids. He edged closer, transfixed by the long golden fins that skimmed back and forth. She looked nothing like any of the other creatures in the water. Her tail was shaped like a mermaid’s, but made of seal-skin.

Another streak of lightning flashed over the surface, and he shrank back when caught a glimpse of her face. Mermaids shot past him, jostling him. His heart pounded in his ears, but he inched slowly forward until he was directly beneath her.

A huge merman held Glenna captive. Her arms were twisted behind her back. The tip of his spear was pressed into her side.

Sam had said the mermaids would take her away and lock her up unless they could find a way to save her. But without the blackthorn crown, they had no way to prove Brigid was innocent. They had no way to prove Moira was behind everything, and all Glenna had ever done was try to stop her.

This was all
his
fault.
He
had lost the crown.
He
had failed them.

The merman tightened his grip on Glenna, and her powerful tail beat against the water as a warning.

Owen narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t let them take her. He wouldn’t let them lock her up because she was different. Brennan had said her kind was forbidden, but that was only because she was too powerful and the mermaids were afraid she would use her powers for evil instead of good.

They didn’t know Glenna. They didn’t know she had almost
died
trying to bring his father back, and that, right now, she was sacrificing herself for Brigid, to save all of them from Moira.

He pushed off the bottom in one swift motion, kicking his flippers up to the surface as fast as he could. He sank his teeth into the arm of the guard. The merman jerked back, releasing Glenna as he cried out in pain.

Owen flipped, darting away. But a searing pain ripped through him as the spear pierced his side. His vision blurred, wavering as the sea of glittering silver and green melted together. He heard Nuala scream before the dark water took him under.

GLENNA FELT FLIPPERS
brush against her bare stomach. A small shape darted up from the depths, attacking her guard. Her eyes widened when she saw that it was only a young seal. The guard cried out in pain, releasing her.

Glenna twisted free, peeling away from the merman. Fires broke out over the beach and she saw that Sam still held the crown. His eyes locked with hers.

Sam knew better than to throw the crown into one of Moira’s fires, Glenna realized. He knew Moira would enchant it and find a way to block the image. He needed her help.

Her friends’ panicked shouts echoed over the fields. Thick black smoke billowed up from the village. She felt her powers burning inside her, building to a feverish peak. She bowed her head, whispering a chant.

She flung her arms from the water. Sparks rained from her fingertips as a bolt of white lightning streaked from the sky, setting the crown on fire.

THE BLACK VINES
of the crown unfurled, sparking and igniting in Sam’s hand. White flowers bloomed along the braided branches, snapping off and fluttering into the night. The petals floated up, chased by a trail of black smoke. The crown grew hot, burning to the touch, but he held on.

Sam stiffened when Moira’s fingers curled around his. He felt the heat sear into his skin—the sizzle of his own flesh burning. The crown unwound, snaking down his forearm.

He jerked back as it twisted around their joined arms, binding them together. His skin blistered. The vines bit into his skin. He looked up, through the flames. The smoke billowed, the white petals swirled like snow through the smoke as the image began to form.

Sam fought to free his hand from the vines, from the flames that coiled up between them. But his hand was trapped, stuck to the vine.

“I can withstand the burns,” Moira hissed. “But you can’t.”

S
am!” Glenna shouted as the guard tightened his grip, twisting her arms behind her back. “Let go!”

Whispers and murmurs rose over the waves as an image slowly began to form in the smoke. The selkies edged closer to Brigid, but the mermaids shifted, moving toward the beach.

“Let go of the crown!” Glenna cried.

Brigid’s heart pounded as she stared up at the image of a man and woman lying in the grass, their bodies joined in passion. She recognized them—both of them—and her hands grasped the side of the boat for support.

The picture blurred, reforming until the couple was standing. “
I will find Brigid,”
the merprince shouted, looking back at Moira with hatred in his eyes.
“Wherever she is. I will never stop looking for her. You cannot get away with this.”

Brigid watched the prince turn, striding away from Moira. But a flash of silver streaked through the smoke. She gasped as the blade caught the prince in the back of his neck. Her sister’s eyes, dark brown only moments ago, glinted green-gold as she pulled the blade free. Moira’s distinctive laugh rang out in the night as the prince crumpled to the ground.

A collective gasp rose from the mermaids, but the selkies could only stare as the smoke vanished. The flames died, and Sam fell to the sand. Moira stood on the beach, unharmed. She laughed—that same low, hollow, wicked laugh—as the mermaids switched direction, heading straight for her.

“Sam!” Glenna thrashed against her captor, struggling to get to the man on the beach.

Thousands of mermaids surfaced, surrounding the beach on all sides. They pointed their spears at Moira, but she only smiled. With a wave of her hand, their spears fell, splashing into the sea. They cried out, their hands burned.

Tears streaked down Brigid’s cheeks. All these years, she’d thought her lover was calling to her, searching for her. She’d thought it was
his
voice she’d heard in the river. But it was only the songs of the selkies—her people calling her home.

Her boat rocked in the roiling sea. For so long, she’d feared the prince thought she’d betrayed him, because she’d never made it past the docks where Moira had said he’d been waiting. But he hadn’t been waiting on the other side of that town. He’d gone to the first meeting spot—the one they’d agreed on.

The hem of her skirt tore as she shredded it, letting all the grief, all the rage, pour out of her. She blinked through a wall of tears at the frantic tapping on the side of her boat. The selkie with the pale eyes—the one who had met her at the beach in Clifden—carried a small seal by the scruff of his neck.

He hung limp in the water, and Brigid reached for him, pulling him into the boat. She set him down gently, running her hands over his body to feel for a wound. But he drew in a sharp breath the moment she touched him. His little body arched, writhing against the bottom of the boat.

She heard the faint crackling of leather peeling away when his skin began to stretch. The mouth of his pelt widened and a patch of black hair appeared, followed by a small child’s head. The skin gave way and the boy wriggled his shoulders through the folds.

Brigid’s hands shook as she reached down, edging the pelt back, helping the child. The seal-skin suctioned to him, leaving a thin translucent mucus behind as he forced his hands out. He kicked at the pelt, shoving it down his legs.

Brigid eased back, tearing a long strip of material from her skirt. She wrapped it around his naked body. When he whimpered, clutching at the wound in his side, she fashioned a bandage from the material. “Here,” she said, holding it out to him. “Press this against your side.”

She grabbed the paddle, driving it into the water when she spotted a man and a woman running onto the far-side of the beach, racing to help the fallen man. “I need to get you to the beach.”

A pair of blue-gray eyes blinked up at her, and she almost dropped the paddle. She stared back at the child, frozen. Slowly, she reached out, brushing a wet curl back from his forehead. “L-Liam?”