The Little Selkie (retail) (27 page)

BOOK: The Little Selkie (retail)
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“Where did he get the ships? I didn’t think Jarlath owned a trading company,” Dylan said.

“He doesn’t. His friend, Lord Doyle, has a small fleet of three ships, and his other friend, Lord Teige, owns a small harbor. They were part of the scheme—although they have since been taken into custody. They were hiding at Kingsgrace,” Callan hesitated before he continued. “I take it the weakness that Jarlath had was your seal pelt?”

“Sea lion. I was the only selkie in Ringsted to have a sea lion body, but yes,” Dylan said.

“Impressive,” Callan said.

“Not really. It’s a little embarrassing actually—sea lion selkies are considered to have bad blood. But I’m the youngest daughter of their king, so what would anyone say? Besides, selkies are not naturally cruel, and my singing made up for my unfortunate pelt appearance,” Dylan said.

“No wonder you took those shrewish ladies in stride,” Callan said.

“Because I’m used to being different? Yes. Anyway, Jarlath got my pelt when I foolishly ran on land to chase after the sea witch.”

“But what about your voice?” Callan asked.

Dylan scowled and looked out at the ocean. “That was me. I ran from Jarlath’s men and stumbled upon a Lady Enchantress who offered to seal my voice so I couldn’t be forced to abuse my magic. I’m still trying to decide if it was a wise decision or not,” Dylan said, making a face. “There were so many times where if I could have just sung, or
shouted
, the end might not have been so close.”

“But you would have had to pay with your pelt anyway,” Callan said. “No one was hurt.”

“No people, but the animals in the ocean paid for it,” Dylan said, sadness seeping into her voice.

Callan stood and dusted sand off his clothes before he rested his arms on Dylan’s shoulders.

Dylan rested her forehead on his stomach. “I’m afraid, Callan. I lost my pelt, and I don’t know what happens to a land-bound selkie.”

“You take one day at a time,” Callan said, his voice steady—like the waterfall where he and Dylan had nearly kissed—but warm. “And when the dust settles, we’ll be together,” Callan said, stooping so he could kiss the top of Dylan’s head.

“Why?” Dylan asked in a small voice.

“I love you, Dylan. After all the fighting I’ve had to do to find you and keep you here, I’m not going to let you go,” Callan said.

“Even though I’m a selkie?” Dylan asked, pulling back so she could look up at Callan.

Callan’s smile was soft and caressing as he tugged Dylan up to a standing position. “I love
you
. No matter what race you are.”

“You would love me even if I was a mermaid?” Dylan asked.

“Even if you were a mermaid,” Callan chuckled.

Dylan closed her eyes and rested her head on Callan’s shoulder, drooping with relief. She knew Callan, and she hadn’t thought he would reject her for being what she was…but it felt good to
know
that he still loved her. He was an anchor for her in a world that had just been flipped upside down.

“You will be a loved princess and a remarkable queen of Ringsted,” Callan said.

Dylan snorted. “What makes you think that?”

“My own reasoning. Cagney agrees with me,” Callan added.

“I’m not certain your subjects will.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, everyone in Ringsted has a great love for the ocean—especially for shipping things
across
the ocean. Do you think they will recoil from a queen who can
control
the ocean to their benefit?”

“I can’t control the ocean itself—just volumes of water,” Dylan corrected him.

“I don’t think anyone will see that as being any less desirable,” Callan said.

“Oh. Well, in that case,” Dylan said, perking up. “Is that an official proposal?”

“Would an official proposal see me killed by your father?”

Dylan thought for a moment. “It might,” she said. “At the very least it opens you to being bossed around by Maureen, too.”

Callan winced. “Perhaps we should wait a little.”

Dylan rolled her eyes. “It would be easier to push back the tide than keep Maureen from domineering.”

“I was thinking more of your father,” Callan said. “Perhaps he would be mollified if we had a long engagement?”

“I’m not certain.”

“That’s no good. Unless I tie you visually and firmly to me, I suspect someone will try to carry you off. No, I want my claim staked. I will have to suffer your father’s wrath, and hope a late wedding will mollify him.”

“Are you certain you want to do that? You don’t know me,” Dylan said, tilting her head as she stared unnervingly into Callan’s eyes “I know all about you, but I haven’t been able to talk for the past month. My sisters say I have a big mouth, and I don’t know when to be silent. I might drive you crazy; you might regret our engagement,” Dylan said.

“I have an understanding of your temperament, my sea lion, even if you couldn’t speak,” Callan said.

“But how?”

“You threw a starfish at a lady. That is a pretty good indicator of what kind of personality you have,” Callan said.

“Oh,” Dylan said.

“And if we are being truthful, it is a good thing you couldn’t talk this past month.”

Dylan furrowed her brows. “Why?”

“Because your voice is lovely like the dawn, and I would have impulsively grown to love you in days instead of weeks—and that time gave me space to sift through things,” Callan said. “Any other objections?”

“I can’t think of any right now.”

“Good,” Callan said. And he kissed her.

They were together for mere moments before someone hollered, “Oi! That’s it. Your chaperone has arrived. Back off, squirt.”

Callan growled in the back of his throat and turned to see Cagney, Dooley, Princess Nessa, and a woman who was even taller than Dylan march across the beach.

“That would be Maureen, my eldest sister. She’ll be the Sea Queen after Da,” Dylan said. “She’s the bossy one I mentioned.”

“I look forward to dealing with her,” Callan said, his voice dead.

His open frustration got a giggle out of Dylan, which lightened Callan’s expression. “Feeling better?” he asked.

“A little.”

“I know it’s a loss you’ll grieve for life.”

“Perhaps, but the outcome was worth the sacrifice,” Dylan said, her eyes thoughtful as she looked out at the sea. “And…” she trailed off, silenced under Maureen, who approached them with all the calm of a hurricane.

“First of all, there must at all times be a salmon length between you two,” she said, wrenching Dylan from Callan. As she was a few inches taller than Dylan, she was also a few inches taller than Callan, and she wore a menacing expression.

“Maureen,” Dylan rolled her eyes. “You aren’t my ma.”

“Maybe not, but Da said to keep an eye on you two. He hasn’t approved yet, you know. He said he needs to get to know Rory better—Etain, too. In the meantime, I shall sit on you.”

“I think the term is babysit,” Dooley offered from behind the tall, warrior-like selkie.

“That is precisely what I said,” Maureen said. “Dylan is the baby of our family.”

“Ocean flower, I am beginning to sense in what kind of environment you were raised,” Dooley said.

“I think it is wonderful,” Cagney said. “Lady Maureen was telling me that selkie women are able to be independent and can even serve as warriors. The selkie culture sounds fascinating. I hope to convince your parents to begin trading with them.”

Dooley looked back and forth between Maureen and Cagney, a frown teasing the corners of his mouth. “Yes, I suppose it would be a good opportunity,” he said.

“We could expand the business into untapped markets. I’ll have to do some research first. It would be wisest to understand and observe the selkie culture before we make a trading venture,” Cagney said.

“Our family would gladly host you,” Dylan said.

“Before you invite outsiders in, Dylan, you should ask Ma and Da—or myself, as I am a future leader of our people,” Maureen said, folding her arms across her chest.

“That’s silly,” Dylan scoffed. “Cagney is my friend. Our parents won’t give a bark.”

“Perhaps, but it is still wisest to go through the official streams of communication,” Cagney said before turning to Maureen. “Could I stay with your family?”

“Of course—our family would gladly host you,” Maureen said.

Dylan rolled her eyes.

“What about me?” Dooley asked.

“What about you?” Cagney asked.

“Where will I stay?”

“In Glenglassera, of course,” Cagney said.

“You mean to tell me I can’t come with you?” Dooley asked, his face falling.

“Of course not. You’ll be needed in Glenglassera when the storms subside and foreign trading resumes,” Cagney said.

“That’s the price that comes with being a lord and a merchant,” Callan said, a hint of slyness tilted his smile to an alarming angle.

“But, pearl of my heart, I cannot part with you,” Dooley said. “Can’t you do research from Glenglassera?

“But the culture—”

“I shall perish without you, my gem,” Dooley said, clasping his hands and raising them in Cagney’s direction.

Cagney narrowed her eyes. “No, I think I should go.”

“Then I shall accompany you—merchant heir or not. Mother and Father are always telling me to learn more about the business,” Dooley resolved.

“No,” Cagney said, shaking a finger at him. “Your entrances to social gatherings are bad enough. I don’t want to imagine what offensive scene you would cause when introducing yourself to Dylan’s kinsmen.”

“You wound me, pearl!”

This changes everything
, Dylan thought, watching her friends.
It’s not just that I can’t be a sea lion…but if I marry Callan, it means the selkies will have to come forward. No separate, secret existence. No more wondering what humans are up to. With Callan of the land and me from the sea, we will join our people together. Like we should have a long time ago, maybe.

Dooley’s moaned pitifully and Cagney walked away from him in disgust. Callan dragged his eyes from his best friend to meet Dylan’s gaze and return her smile.

“Things will work out,” Dylan said, taking Callan’s hand.

“They will,” Callan agreed, squeezing her palm.

“No touching!” Maureen shouted before chopping at their joint hands, breaking the contact.

Dylan ignored her sister and looked at the sea. Her heart still twisted to know she would never be a sea lion again, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t see that the future was bright and fun.

Epilogue

 

The engagement party of Prince Callan—eldest son of King Rory and Queen Etain of Ringsted—and Princess Dylan—youngest daughter of the Sea King Rory and Queen Gwenllian, took place at the end of summer and the beginning of fall—roughly a month after the sea witch’s defeat.

Some of the coastal storms had broken up—Glenglassera would officially be launching ships back into trade in one week. But the party was held at the Summer Palace, on the eastern sea border of Ringsted, where the typhoons still raged next to the Chronos Mountains. The presence of the typhoons didn’t bother any of the guests—the storms were too far off to cause them any troubles, and everyone already knew they would eventually break up. With the sea witch captured and unable to pump power back into them, the storms were fading—like a top running out of energy.

The party was held with great joy and pomp. There were tables of food—more food than had ever been at any party ever before.. It became apparent that Dylan was not the only one in her family to possess an enormous appetite. Ringsted scholars theorized it was due to selkie’s seal forms and the energy it took to maintain two bodies. Of course, Dylan—who was still lean even though she ate as much as her father—somewhat ruined their theory, but no one minded all the food anyway. The selkies, if anything, were extremely joyful recipients of food.

The celebration was attended by dozens of selkies, most of the noble families of Ringsted—although Lady Aisling and her parents were conspicuously absent—and a good deal of the party was open for all subjects—commoners, servants, and villagers alike.

Music and dancing were central—including performances by selkie dancers, who were stunning with their twirls, flips, leaps, and shows of physical strength and agility. There was even a choir of selkies who crooned and manipulated water for the wide-eyed villagers and nobles. (Dylan joined the song at the climax, drawing gasps of delight and wonder with her magic-forged sea serpents.)

“I think I understand why you say you are considered an average dancer,” Cagney said, staring at a male selkie dancer, who had performed a series of forward flips earlier in the day.

“Good,” Dylan said, selecting a grilled sweet potato and putting it on Cagney’s plate. “I don’t like accepting compliments that aren’t true. If you wished to compliment my singing voice, well, that would be different,” Dylan said, choosing two sweet potatoes for herself before leaving the table. “Come, I think they’ve almost finished seating everyone,” Dylan said, glittering in the pink light of twilight.

Dylan wore a strange hybrid outfit. Her dress was the length of a typical selkie garb—hitting her just above the knee, showing off her long, lean legs. It was gathered and tailored in the torso and shoulders, although it showed a hint of Ringsted fashion by poofing out slightly instead of falling flat on her legs as her sisters’ dresses did. The skirt of the dress was black, but the torso was made of satin that was Dylan’s favored shade of sea glass green. The sleeves and shoulders of the dress were black, but veined with some of the aqua-colored satin fabric, giving the illusion of wings curling around her arms. To add to the unusual garb, a dagger was strapped to her calf.

No one batted an eye at the outfit, though. Dylan looked tame compared to some of her selkie kin—especially the male dancers, who walked around without shirts.

The sun was an orange globe on the horizon, casting coppers, purples, and pinks on the ocean, setting the perfect stage.

“What are we sitting for anyway? I thought your people finished dancing an hour ago.” Cagney said, following her friend down the marina stairs—which now had railings, were wider, and had been roughened to prevent slipping. Most of the food and about half the entertainment was held on the marina. The other half took place at the beach, but the demonstrations and feats of entertainment had been stopped so servants could bring out a legion of chairs.

“For the show,” Dylan said, her eyes tracing the crowd as she climbed down the stairs.

As if he could feel her gaze, Callan looked up and caught her eyes. He smiled and gestured with a few of his fingers for Dylan to come to him.

“What show?” Cagney asked.

“The show—the ocean show,” Dylan said, smiling widely at Callan before she nodded.

“I don’t understand,” Cagney said as they cleared the last step.

“Some of my father’s subjects put together a show to celebrate my engagement,” Dylan said, breaking her gaze away from Callan to look at her friend.

“Why?” Cagney blinked.

“I
am
a princess—even if we don’t use those titles often,” Dylan modestly said. “Besides, I’ve always been something of a favorite with these subjects.”

“I thought you said a lot of selkies found your boundless energy and your loud voice tiresome,” Cagney said as the pair skirted past the rows and rows of occupied seats—the royal marina had almost emptied, and there wasn’t an empty chair except in places of honor that were being saved.

“Yes, but I never said that selkies were putting this on, did I?” Dylan said, nudging Cagney to the open chair beside Dooley.

“…
what
?” Cagney hissed, but Dylan was already scurrying across the sand, sliding into her seat next to Callan—in front of their families.

“I brought food,” Dylan said gleefully, offering Callan a grilled sweet potato.

Callan took it and kissed Dylan’s cheek. “Thank you. Did you get enough for yourself?”

“For the moment, yes,” Dylan said.

Palace servants lit several candelabras that were dug into the shore. They scurried out of the way, and two groups of selkies—six in each group—stood on either side of the candelabras, framing a piece of the ocean as a stage of sorts.

“In honor of the Princess Dylan—Daughter of King Murron and Queen Gwenllian—we aid the ocean in expressing its boundless joy that the youngest selkie princess has found her lifelong love,” one selkie said.

“Should I be worried?” Callan murmured to Dylan.

“Nope, this will be fun,” Dylan said. “Some of them migrated here just for today, even though it’s the wrong season.”

“Migrated?” Callan asked.

Dylan wasn’t able to answer him, for the selkies started singing—their voices making a soothing chorus that lulled all the listeners, reminding them of the bright sun in the sky. Water rose from the ocean, twirling and twining through the air like ribbons.

The Ringsted subjects were impressed with this feat alone, so when the first dolphin jumped through a ring of water they gasped in surprise and delight. Five more dolphins leaped into the air, landing back in the water with tremendous splashes.

Far out in the ocean, two huge whales breeched, filling the air with a throbbing, drum-beat-like call.

“Blue whales?” Callan, said, staring at the rarely seen creatures.

Suddenly one orca, located much closer to shore, leaped from the ocean, and twisted so it fell on its back, splashing white water high in to the air. Farther out behind him, two humpback whales slapped their tails on the water surface, causing even bigger splashes.

The humans shouted, some even bolted from their chairs—Princess Nessa among them—craning to get a better look.

A kaleidoscope of sea creatures paraded through the water stage. Sea lions played with a ball from Princess Nessa, otters linked paws and—with some selkie help—floated in the shape of a heart.

“Don’t some of those whales prey upon some of the creatures we’ve seen?” Callan asked.

Dylan nodded. “They do, but a selkie wedding is a joyous occasion. Especially ours.”

“Why?” Callan asked.

Dylan’s smile turned sad. “Because we stopped the witch, and ended the shedding of innocent blood. Also, you forget. Even though I’m to be your wife, I’ll still be a guardian of the sea. Sea creatures aren’t like humans. They don’t understand country politics and structure, but they know the selkie kings have always guarded them, and now one of their own is to be joined with the humans. They don’t grasp most things, but they
do
know this will bring change.”

“Good change,” Callan said.

Dylan smiled. “Good change,” she agreed as the performance ended.

Humans swarmed the beach to gawk and stare at the ocean behemoths, who remained floating on the water surface. The whales gleamed in the setting sun, and sea lions barked, hollered, and carried on before distributing wet kisses among anyone who dared draw close enough to them. (Princess Nessa dared, multiple times.)

“Dylan. Hi, Cal,” Murphy said, acknowledging her future brother-in-law. “Dylan, do your humans have any ships we could borrow?”

“Why?” Dylan asked.

Murphy pointed out at the still raging typhoon—which was visible against the color-streaked sky.

Dylan perked with interest. “You want to break up the storms?”

“You can do that?” Callan asked.

“To a certain extent,” Dylan said. “It takes a lot of us. Basically, we take control of every spot of water in the area—the water in the air included.”

“It’s difficult, and we couldn’t do it when the sea witch was around to replenish the storm’s power. It would have been fighting a losing battle,” Murphy said.

“But you want to break up the remaining storms?” Dylan repeated.

“Yes. It’s taking too long for them to die out. I don’t relish any of the sea witch’s handy work hanging around longer than necessary. I asked Father; he said maybe.”

“Let’s do it,” Dylan said, her eyes glowing.

“Wonderful,” Murphy said.

“Right now,” Dylan said.

“What,” her older sister said.

“You
didn’t
expect that answer?” Callan asked, his eyebrows raised.

Murphy shot Callan a look.

“Let’s rip the storm apart tonight,” Dylan said.

“That’s crazy! The sun is setting,” Murphy said.

“And the moon and stars will be out for us to navigate by. It will be fine. Let’s go,” Dylan said before turning to Callan. “Are any of the royal ships around?”

“One,” Callan said.

“One won’t be enough. We should wait until more arrive,” Murphy said.

“I’ll ask Dooley. Cagney said three White Sands ships arrived this morning,” Dylan said, leaping from her chair and scrambling towards her friends.

“Sorry,” Murphy said to Callan. “I didn’t think she would react so eagerly and impulsively.”

Callan laughed as he also stood. “She
only
acts eagerly and impulsively. But that’s part of her charm.”

“Glad you see it that way, because I don’t,” Murphy said bowing and trailing after her sister.

No less than an hour later, the selkie royal family
and
half of the Ringsted royal family were secured on the only royal ship in the palace marina, heading straight for the typhoon.

A White Sands ship sailed on either side of the royal vessel, filled with selkies in their human bodies. The White Sands Trading Company ships would peel off when they reached the typhoon, and be stationed on either end of the storm as the royal families went straight for the heart of the tempest.

“Is this safe?” Queen Etain asked, her hands white with strain as she gripped a railing on the deck.

The selkie Queen Gwenllian tilted her head. “Why would it ever be safe?” She asked in a sing song voice, her expression serious.

“I knew we shouldn’t have come with them,” Queen Etain said, her face growing white, too.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Mother,” Princess Fianna said, eyeing one of Dylan’s shirtless cousins.

“Your daughter is right, my lady,” King Murron boomed. “Even if the ship splinters, I can guarantee we’ll all make it. Selkies—and anyone in their care—don’t drown.”

“How reassuring,” King Rory said, his expression slightly pained, although he looked around with curiosity.

“Here we go. Everyone tied to a mast?” Maureen called from the quarter deck at the back of the ship as the White Sands boats drifted away.

“Aye!”

“Altos, start the chorus!” Mairead shouted from the crow’s nest.

Even though the ships were separating, the hum of the altos could be heard above the thundering sky and howling winds.

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