Page 8 of Saved By the Selkie

Aramis

I

wake up shaking and shivering. The night sky shimmers above me, and it takes me a minute to figure out where I am and what’s going on. I watch the Milky Way for a moment, slowly breathing in.

I shudder violently, then twist onto my side, curling into a ball. Lir is a dark lump stretched out on his side, snoring away like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Maybe he doesn’t; he’s half-twisted in his sealskin. I’m almost instantly jealous—he’s probably warm. After all, he’s built for the cool sea breeze rolling in off the water. The nighttime temperatures likely don’t bother him in the slightest, whereas I’m shaking like a leaf.

I stumble over to the fire, which has burned down to nothing more than a few glowing embers. They wink up at me as I grab a stick and prod at them, hoping they’ll roar back to life. I add more brush from my pile of palm leaves carefully, hoping not to smother the coals.

The leaves catch and I have to cover a cough as smoke pours from the fire as it eats into the greenery. I glance over at Lir again, who is still fast asleep. The firelight flickers over his face, making it hard to tell if he’s breathing.

He snorts suddenly, then rolls over, back to the fire. I half-smile at that. I let my gaze drop back to the fire, staring down at the flames as I hold my hands over it, hoping I’ll warm up soon. I suppress another shudder, realizing my damp clothes haven’t helped me at all—I’ve barely dried out from my dip in the ocean earlier.

I’m not sure if taking off my waterlogged clothes would help or hinder; the damp cloth isn’t pleasant at all, but I’m not sure how I’d fare with nothing between my bare skin and the stiff ocean breeze.

I can’t stay here, I realize, risking another look at Lir. I have no clothes, and from the looks of things, selkies need only their sealskins. I don’t have one of those, so I’m shit out of luck. Lir didn’t seem to know what a fire was, and he didn’t seem too interested in cooking food either. Plus, he’s sleeping on the beach, in the open, without a cover or a tent, and I’m wondering if selkies have shelters at all.

I twist, turning my gaze back to the forest. The fire illuminates just the barest edge of it; it falls into deep shadow just a few yards from the beach. I can hear sticks cracking, and somewhere, an animal yowls.

All I have is my knife in my boot.

Yeah, I’m not going to last long out here. I’ll talk to Lir in the morning, I guess, and see if he’ll help me get home.

Although … I don’t think selkies have boats. At least, Lir seemed as unfamiliar with the concept of a boat as he was with fire and cooked food. And home is a long way off. Heck, even the next nearest island is probably a thousand miles away. I have no idea how I’m going to get there, even if Lir agrees to help me. What’s he gonna do, drag me through the water? Shift into a seal and let me ride him all the way back?

I snort at the ridiculous image. Yeah, right. I doubt he’d agree to something like that, and even if he did, I really don’t think it’s the best solution to the problem.

Besides, there’s no guarantee he’ll help. Or even be around in the morning, now that I think about it. He did say he’d thought about killing me and eating me.

I sigh heavily, plonking down in the sand. I roll my forehead across my knees. What a bloody mess. I have no idea how I’m gonna get out of this one.

Serves me right, I guess, trying to find a mythical island. Oh, I found it all right, but only after getting stuck in the ice for months on end. The ice had started breaking up a few weeks ago, and instead of turning around, I’d made the crew press forward, through the path in the ice.

I hadn’t been wrong. We’d hit open ocean, I guess because the waters around Mythos are warmer than the rest of the Arctic Ocean.

Thinking back on it, I don’t really blame the crew for the mutiny. It had been a long, hard winter, and I probably seemed like I was chasing a pipe dream. The patch of open ocean was strange. Combine that with a seemingly mad captain, and it’s no wonder the crew that had just been iced in for months rebelled.

Maybe I deserved to get marooned. It was my own folly. Hubris. Something like that.

I shiver again, then notice the wind is blowing at the flames, nearly causing them to flicker out. I put some more fuel on the fire.

Then I freeze, peering over the flames, through the smoke,to the edge of the forest. There are pinpricks of light peering out from the shadows. Watching.

I gulp, then slowly, surreptitiously, reach for the knife in my boot. I glance at the fire as well, making note of which flaming branches I can probably grab and brandish if I have to.

There’s a booming bark behind me, and I grasp my knife tight. The lights in the forest wink out, and I shift my gaze to my left as a huge, silvery creature flops up beside me.

I sigh in relief and release my knife. Lir shimmies out of his sealskin, and he’s humanoid again. I’m not sure I will get used to that.

“What were they?” I ask as Lir sprawls out by the fire.

“Dunno,” he answers with a half-shrug. “Probably just fauns or something.”

“Fauns?” I can’t keep the incredulity out of my voice. Then I remember I’m talking to a selkie and it seems a little more believable.

Lir tosses his head back, opening his mouth wide on a huge yawn. Nervously, I take note of how long and pointed his teeth are, even in this form. “Yup,” he agrees, laying his head down on his arms and closing his eyes. “Pretty harmless, usually—the satyrs, you gotta watch out for them. They can be vicious.”