Page 9 of Saved By the Selkie

“Vicious,” I repeat.

“Yeah. Or might’ve been wolves. Dunno.”

I wonder how he can be so bloody calm talking about wolves. But then again, I guess he’s actually a massive predator himself, and he can just slip off into the ocean if any critter takes it into their head to attack him.

He’s snoring again before I have a chance to ask anything else. I sigh softly to myself, prodding at the fire again.

Guess I’ll have to wait until daylight to ask him if he’ll help me get out of here and back to civilization.

six

Lir

I

wake up with a snort and a huff, then promptly roll onto my stomach as I realize there are now about fifteen humans gathered around the fire.

Aramis glances down at me calmly and says, “Oh, hey, you’re awake.”

I blink at him, then toss a glance over my shoulder. The massive glider I’d seen yesterday is a few hundred feet from shore, riding up and down on the waves. Smaller gliders are pulled right up on the beach.

I look to Aramis for explanation. He cracks a strange sort of half-smile at me. “My crew came back,” he says.

“Damn right we did,” says one of the other humans, this one a burly giant with a massive black beard. He has a scar running down his cheek, slashed right through one unseeing eye. “Right when we left ya, I knew we were making a mistake. And then that storm blew up, and I ain’t much for superstition, but I knew it was the sea ’erself.”

“Aye, Porthos wasn’t much for that, were ya,” says another one of the humans.

“Didn’t help that that baboon Perry nearly ran us aground on the shoal,” says a third, and I stare at this one. I’ve never seen anything like this human at all—neither Aramis nor Porthos look like this one, nor have I ever seen a selkie that looks this way either.

“Oy,” Porthos says, squinting, “lad, whatcha lookin’ at?”

“’E looks like he ain’t ever seen a lady before,” the second one titters. “Eh, Anna?”

Anna huffs, chest heaving, and leans over toward me. “Maybe he hasn’t. Seems like ya haven’t ever heard of clothes either.”

I open my mouth, but Aramis practically kicks sand at me. Then he looks at the other humans. “Give us a second, hm? Lir’s in a bad spot.”

“Aye,” Porthos says, and Aramis grabs me by the wrist and drags me toward the forest. I stumble after him.

“Look,” Aramis whispers, clapping his hands on my arms, “they don’t know what you are. They think you’re another human.” He glances warily over his shoulder. “And I don’t trust ’em—Johan there, he was part of the mutineers.”

“What’s a mutineer?” I ask, but Aramis ignores me.

“So I don’t want them knowing, hm? I think it’s better if we don’t tell ’em what you are.”

“Okay,” I agree. I glance back at the humans. “What’s wrong with Anna?”

Aramis blinks. “Wrong with Anna?”

I mimic the shape of Anna’s chest with my hands. Aramis’s eyes widen. “Oh,” he says, “Lir, there’s nothing wrong with Anna. She’s a woman.”

“A … woman.” I knit my brow. “She’s not a human?”

Aramis sighs. “She’s—a woman is a human female. All women look like that.” He pauses, a blush rising on his cheeks. “Well, not exactly like that. But they—have breasts.”

“Breasts,” I echo. I look him in the eye. “What’s a female?”

Aramis looks like a light breeze could knock him right off his feet. “What do you mean—what’s a female? There are selkie men and women, right?”