I’m still thinking about curses and Aunt Opal when Alona appears by our window at nine o’clock that night. Marley eagerly climbs out and onto the branches. I lift my tote bag with Grandpa’s book, feeling just a little less enthusiastic than usual.
“Come on,” Marley says impatiently. “New quest, you said.”
I smile and climb out, carefully. “Yeah. Back into
the fray.”
I can’t help but feel like we should be back in Edinburgh. Freddy’s emails have been sporadic and a little clipped, as if he doesn’t have as much time to write. He says things are different there now, and not in a good way.
They need help. I can tell.
I just don’t know how to get to them. I could never fly to Edinburgh by myself, let alone with Marley on my back. Even Opal couldn’t fly that far.
At least, I don’t think she could.
We hit the grass and make our way towards the winding loch. I’d told Alona to ask all the Hidden Folk she knew, including her maker the Druid, about the mysterious creature.
“That Selkie has agreed to speak with us,” she announces, as we scamper down to the bank.
As we reach it, I do what has always been instinctual to me. I kneel and touch the water. I channel the pulses of magic inside of me into my hands and press them against the cold, ancient loch.
It occurs to me that this mass of water has been around for longer than anyone I know, or have ever known, and it will still be here after I am gone.
The electricity that I feel in my hand moves into the loch. Ripples start to swell across the glassy water. I move back a little, ordering Alona and Marley to do the same. We don’t need the Ceasg to return.
She does not. Another creature appears where she once did.
The Selkie. She moves like a seal through the cold waves and breaks the surface in front of the three of us.
“Haven’t been in these waters for the longest time,” she says, shaking off drops of liquid. She sounds contemplative.
“Why?” Marley asks, taking in the majesty of another creature who does not feel the need to Glamour.
“My family were chased out a long time ago,” she says quietly. “I moved to the sea. But I come back in the winter months. To remember.”
“Who chased them out?” I ask, defensively. “Sirens? Fae?”
She looks straight at me. “No. Humans.”
I shrink back a little. “Oh.”
“Can you tell us more about this creature you saw?” Marley asks her.
She shivers. “It’s not what the humans think. It could be a different monster entirely. It is not some underwater creature, or some dinosaur of the deep. It’s… like a ghost.”
I think of Angus and his stories of the villagers and the Hidden Folk who swore they had seen a spirit from beyond the grave. “What makes you say that?”
The Selkie glances around, furtively. “It knew things about me. Wordless things. I only saw it from a distance, at first I thought I must be hallucinating. It can shift and transform. It is… quite horrifying.”
I share a look with Marley and Alona. They look as baffled as I feel.
“I can’t tell you how it can exist,” the Selkie adds. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It has the stature and size of a human, but there is something so unnatural about it. It’s… it feels cruel. It does not speak. But it knows things.”
“What do you mean, what things?”
I ask the question a little frantically, as the Selkie is already starting to move back into deeper water.
“Things I don’t want to remember,” she whispers, before her lips disappear beneath the breaking waves.
I make a noise of frustration, and for a moment I consider diving in after her. I obviously don’t. I might have a special relationship with water, my magic may call to it, but I cannot stand the icy temperature of
the loch.
Instead, I dash out onto it. The way I did upon the River Forth, now so long ago. I dance across the flat surface of the loch, connecting with the water so it holds me up. Alona watches in astonishment, her eyes wide at the sight of my true nature. I don’t Glamour the way some Hidden Folk choose to, but I mask. I hide my potential. I dial it down.
I bound across the water and eventually stand still, about ten metres from the shore.
“Stop showing off and get back on land now,” Marley calls out.
“I’m good,” I call back, needing the mask to be gone right now. “It’s fine.”
“That mermaid thing might come back,” he insists. “Come on.”
“Not scared of anything in this loch,” I retort. I start to dance again, moving like an ice skater across the unfrozen water. I dart and leap and command the
fluid glass.
I have a lot of feelings. I have feelings about Fae and Sirens stalking innocent Hidden Folk. I have feelings about the ghost that has allegedly been seen around these parts. I have feelings about Aunt Opal and her stoic secrets. I have feelings about Alona, our new friend, with her giddy freedom and lack of worries. I have feelings about Freddy, my old friend, who is far away and distant over emails. I have feelings about the absolute idiocy of forgiving enemies. I have feelings about Grandpa not being here to see me dance on the water. I have feelings about Mum and Gran disappearing without saying goodbye, without even explaining why or where, without giving me any assurance about it, without saying why it was so important – so important that I cannot know the reason, wasn’t worth a conversation, wasn’t worth—
