Page 58 of Saved By the Selkie

“Gold?” I ask.

“The coins,” Anna clarifies. When I look at her blankly, she waves a hand. “You took it from Jans’s hands and said you could get as many as he wanted.”

“Oh. That. What about it?”

Porthos frowns and leans conspiratorially close. “Can you really get more?”

I nod. I saw plenty of it on the ocean floor when I was making my trek from Aramis’s ship to the ice shelf. I’ve no doubt I could find more; it seems to be everywhere down there, especially around the wrecks of human ships. Not to mention there’s basically mountains of the shiny stuff in the waters off of Mythos’s eastern shore. Not that we go over there much—it’s dangerous. Krakens and leviathans and that sort of thing. Even selkies have to be careful in those waters.

“As much as we want?” Porthos’s eyes are wide.

“Yes,” I agree. I don’t understand what’s so important about shiny things.

Anna and Porthos exchange a look, but they’re silent as we walk toward the stairs that will take us below deck.

thirty

Aramis

A

thos sits across from me, staring at me. He seems to have forgotten he was pouring more wine into his glass, which is now overflowing.

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so shocked.

I flush and fidget in my seat. I’ve already finished my own wine; I needed it to steel my nerves to tell him what Lir is and that Blizz is my own son. I wish I’d taken it slower now; I wish I had more wine.

Finally, Athos takes a deep breath and screws his eyes shut. Then he opens them again. I’m not sure what he’s trying to accomplish. I fiddle with the stem of my goblet, and Athos finally realizes he’s spilling wine everywhere. He curses, then sets the decanter down, reaching for a silk napkin to start sopping up the mess, which drips from table to floor.

“I’m not sure what shocks me more,” Athos says, glancing up at me carefully, “the fact you’ve become a father or the fact you’ve discovered Mythos and brought back a selkie.”

I scowl. Trust my brother to be so dismissive. “The latter, obviously,” I grumble. Not like I don’t have a reputation. Really, me shacking up with Lir is probably the least shocking thing about this entire misadventure.

Athos blinks, then pitches the soaked napkin aside. He sighs softly. “You’re probably right,” he murmurs, “but what I mean to say is … that is a fantastical tale.”

“I know it seems far-fetched.” I scowl as I think of the two sailors on the dock calling Lir ugly. Perhaps that’s really what Athos finds surprising—I usually set my sights a little differently when I’m skirt-chasing. I practically fought the matronly Lady de Rohan off before I fled France. Athos probably thinks I’m making the selkie bit up to explain my attraction to someone as … robust as Lir.

Lir borrowing Anna’s dress only emphasized how little is feminine about him. He’s broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, tall and broad and, well, a bit rounder than the silhouette for fashionable ladies.

Not that I particularly care. Even if I chase skirts as readily, the more a woman looks like a lad, the happier I am.

Athos coughs into his hand. “What proof do you have he’s a selkie?”

I sigh. “There’s his pelt—you saw the sealskin he was wearing like a cloak.”

I immediately regret divulging that detail as Athos’s expression turns darker. Anyone else would miss it, but I’ve known him too long not to know what the look means. “He won’t give it up,” I tell my brother sharply, “and if you try to take it from him, I’m afraid you’ll have a fight on your hands.”

Athos settles back in his chair. He folds his hands. “I merely ask because you know Sellegue will demand proof when we present him.”

Ah, there it is—precisely why I didn’t want to tell Athos anything. He always has to worm his way into everything I do. I’ll be damned if I let him take credit for this. “Don’t worry,” I say, aiming for an airy tone, “I’ve thought of these things. Lir is amenable to giving proof in front of Lord de Sellegue, so long as it should help me secure his lordship’s favor.”

Athos considers me for a moment, tilting his head. “Of course,” he says at length. “And you know that I’d be more than pleased to give any testimony you think will sway the old man’s opinion.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Just like Athos—always attempting to insert himself, even when I’m making it clear he has no part in this. I don’t even want him to be present when I meet with Lord de Sellegue. I don’t care what kind of sway he has over his father. I want to stand on my own two feet for once.

Athos lifts his goblet. “Of course, I’ll procure the meeting with my father when we dock in New York.”

I straighten up. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to procure my own meeting.”