Page 35 of Saved By the Selkie

T

he storm rages on in what might be called morning. It’s hard to tell. We slept, and when we woke again, it seemed maybe brighter outside. But the wind is still howling and the snow has whited out all creation. It’s impossible to see.

We’re not going anywhere, and even if we were, I’m not sure what condition we’ll find our boat in when we get back. We left it upside down, hauled out on the ice, but the wind seems strong enough to push it right back into the water. Or maybe a seal smashed it, or a chunk of flying ice broke a board, making her unfit for sea.

I’m not sure what happens then. I don’t want to think about it, so I force the thought from my mind.

I look across the fire at Lir. He’s stretched out there, his head flat against the floor, eyes closed. He huffs a sigh, his flanks heaving with it, which lets me know he’s not sleeping now either.

He seems … big. Bigger than I imagined, I guess, although I’ve never seen him in seal form, except for that one brief time when he went fishing off the coast of Mythos. I smile.

There’s not much room, so I slide my foot across the space between us, jostling him a little. He opens his eyes, finding my gaze instantly. “Hey,” I say, “you’re not thinking about eating me, are you?”

He tilts his head, then glances around. He huffs and settles down again, rolling onto his side, twisting his head so the top of his skull is against the ground. He lifts his flippers and curls his flukes. It seems … almost playful.

“You’d better not,” I warn, giving him another tap with my foot. He grabs at my boot with both flippers, capturing me and holding me tight.

I freeze, realizing he absolutely could kill me if he wanted to. His grip is powerful; I couldn’t wriggle out of it if I wanted to. And with those teeth …

Well, he could simply drag me into the water, pull me down, and drown me. He wouldn’t even need to use his teeth.

His gaze flicks to Johan, who is watching us from the shadows. The silence seems to deepen as the three of us gaze at each other.

Johan shifts a little, glancing away. His entire posture dares us to try anything.

I glance back at Lir. Between the two of us, we could take Johan, I’m sure of it. The problem is Johan is armed and we’re not. What if Lir got shot?

I’d never forgive myself.

Lir seems to come to some sort of understanding. He lowers his head against the ground again with a sigh, closing his eyes.

We doze, drifting in and out of sleep, listening to the wind howl through our dreams, the storm haunting us. Every now and then, the wind slows and the snowfall seems to break, offering us the faintest sliver of hope, but then it picks up again.

We don’t leave the cave, except to piss. Johan seems restless, maybe because he only brought so much of the seal meat and blubber along. The fire’s been burning continuously, but I’m not sure how much fuel is left. I know the meat is almost gone.

I suppose I should feel lucky that Johan shared any with me at all, but I know he isn’t done with me yet. If I croak, he’ll have to row all the way back to the mainland by himself while trying to keep Lir under control. With me, he can make me do the work and control Lir with the simple threat of harming me.

I don’t know why Lir cares. He was right to leave. I’ve treated him abominably, stealing his pelt and keeping it from him. Dreaming of riches and fame, the accolades my patron would heap on me. My name in pamphlets, on the town crier’s lips. People talking about me in influential circles as the man who discovered Mythos and brought back a real, live selkie.

What would have happened to Lir? I wonder now. Would he have been chained up, put in a cage? Paraded from city to city, like some kind of carnival freak? Like all those shows on the Continent, where they capture strange animals from Africa or even people and bring them back in chains?

The thought makes me sick. I hadn’t even thought about what they would do to Lir. Fuck, I’ve been so selfish, so bound up in what Lir could do for me.

He was right to leave, and he wouldn’t be wrong to kill both Johan and me and escape again. In fact, I kind of wish he would.

He doesn’t though. He seems tired, maybe even exhausted. He sleeps, and when he’s not sleeping, he’s just lying there with his eyes open, staring at the wall of the cave.

I frown. It almost seems like there’s something wrong with him.

He eats, almost eagerly, when I offer him some of my own meagre meal. Johan saved the largest portion for himself, of course, before dividing what was left between Lir and myself. Lir’s portion was smallest, almost like Johan was trying to make a point.

Johan glares at me when I toss Lir most of my meal. “What?” I ask.

“You’ll need your strength,” Johan replies without missing a beat.

“I’ll be fine.”

Johan regards me for a moment, then looks at Lir. “He’ll survive,” he says. “Seals can go days without food.”