Page 27 of Saved By the Selkie

Johan curls his lip in a sneer. “You think I’d be asking you if I knew where the bastard was?”

No. He’d have no use for me. I drop my hand and look at him. “I don’t know where he is.”

It’s truthful, to some degree. I think about the open trunk in my cabin. I’d forgotten I’d had it open when Lir burst in the first night we were in port. He must have seen his pelt peeking out when I’d stepped out to deal with the gunshots.

When I came back, he was gone. It had taken me a day or so to work out that his pelt was gone too. But he’d hung around.

I don’t know why. He could have left any time, but he’d stayed for two whole days after that, until we lifted anchor and were under sail.

But it’s clear to me now that he’s given everyone the slip. He’s taken his pelt and left the ship.

“You were sleeping with him,” Johan accuses. “You have to know—where is he?”

I shake my head, despite the pain of doing so. “Dunno,” I repeat.

“Bullshit! You know he’s a selkie, you know all his secrets—where would he go?”

I press my lips into a thin line and shake my head. “I have no idea,” I murmur. The only thing I can think of is north, back to Mythos. But he won’t make it there; the ice isn’t far behind us, so if Lir does try to swim north, he’ll get stranded somewhere on the ice.

My heart squeezes thinking about it. Can Lir even survive on his own this far south? On the ice?

Johan isn’t satisfied with my answer apparently, because he kicks me again, knocking me over. I heave another huge, pained breath as I topple against the planking. “I swear.” I think there might be blood in my lungs, the way the words gurgle out of me. “I don’t know where he’s gone. If he’s not here, I don’t know where he is.”

Johan glares at me for a minute. “I don’t believe you,” he announces finally, like that wasn’t fucking obvious. I resist the urge to roll my eyes; no need to make my situation worse than it is.

“You’re gonna take me to him,” Johan says, leaning in close.

“I told you, I don’t know—”

“But you do,” Johan insists. “You know where you found him, and you know he’s gonna try going north. And I bet you he’ll come to you.”

The grin Johan gives me is truly frightening. “A little pet always comes home to master, doesn’t he?”

Anger simmers in my veins, lights the back of my throat on fire. “He’s not a pet,” I spit. I even manage to sound angry.

Johan chuckles. “You’re so cute when you’re trying to be defiant.”

“Lir’s free,” I tell him. “He won’t come back.”

Johan grins. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to bet on it then, now won’t we?”

I’m not sure how Johan expects to keep me alive long enough to find Lir. If the selkie slipped off the night of the mutiny, then he’s probably long gone by now. It’s been, by my calculations, two or three days since then.

I wince with every stroke of the oars. Johan’s goons shot me in the arm when they burst into my cabin, taking me hostage. Then they’d knocked me out and tied me up. I think the plan was likely to make me walk the plank or even execute me, versus marooning me somewhere like last time, but that was before Lir did his little disappearing act. If I’ve got the story straight, then Lir showed up on deck, stripped bare, and pulled on his pelt. In front of everyone.

Then he took a dive off the ship and went deep, so deep the spears couldn’t get him. They’d waited a bit, but he hadn’t resurfaced.

My best guess is he’s going to try to swim back to Mythos. But he doesn’t know the waters around here or the routes. Heck, I’m not even sure I could get us back to Mythos, not with all my charts and navigational instruments.

Lir’s a selkie though, so maybe he has a better sense of direction. He was born and raised on Mythos. Maybe there’s like … a homing signal, something in his blood that will just tell him which way to go.

Even if that is true, it won’t help as winter is rapidly advancing from the north. Already, coves we’d passed just two days before are icing over. The water is bitter cold, and the wind is raw. The threat of snow hangs heavy in the air.

I don’t have much time to worry about Lir, if I’m honest. We’re sitting ducks out here in this little rowboat, exposed and vulnerable. The weather will be the death of us, likely.

Johan’s insistent, though. He and I set out almost immediately—me at gunpoint, under threat of death—to try and catch up to Lir. I’m not sure why he didn’t just turn the ship around, but it seems that maybe Johan isn’t as in control as he thought. The crew seemed to want to go on to Halifax or maybe try to get to Boston, ahead of the ice.

I know why he wants to go after Lir, though. A real, live selkie—proof that Mythos Island and all the creatures we only tell tales about really do exist. We’d be stupid to let that slip through our fingers—but we already have.