The Little Selkie by K. M. Shea

Author:K. M. Shea [Shea, K. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BluA
Publisher: Take Out the Trash!
Published: 2015-04-20T23:00:00+00:00

After a week of failed search attempts, Dylan’s nerves were worn thin. Jarlath must have exercised his miniscule mental abilities and hidden her pelt in an extraordinary spot as she had yet to sniff out so much as a hint of it. She was the daughter of King Murron, and the best singer of the Ringsted selkies, yet a puffed up dunce was outmaneuvering her. It was enraging.

She wished she had listened to the enchantress and notified her family before brashly throwing herself into enemy hands. She could no longer feel even the faintest trace of selkie crooning—although the sea witch’s black magic still fouled the oceans with constant storms.

Dylan pressed her lips together and squinted at the dazzling ocean. Behind her, noblewomen giggled and talked, fluttering around the royalty. Queen Etain, Prince Callan, Prince Viggo, and some of their friends were present. Dooley and Cagney were not. Over the past few days, Dylan’s time at the ocean had become something of a social hour—particularly since Princess Nessa heard about it and started coming out every morning with her. It was surprisingly early for nobility, but Dylan had been on the beach for two hours before anyone joined her. Unfortunately, the ocean seemed to be in an equally bad temper, and had done little to bolster her sagging spirits.

“Dylan, did you see that wave? It was huge!” Princess Nessa called. She was playing in the ocean tides that seemed unnaturally high considering how close to shore she stood.

She broke out of her foul mood long enough to smile and waved to the princess, but as soon as the young girl went back to playing, Dylan’s puckered look returned.

“What’s wrong?” Prince Callan asked, handing her a fancy glass goblet of apple cider.

Dylan sipped the liquid, but instead of quenching her thirst, the cider was sour on her tongue. She handed the goblet back to Callan. Something is not right, she wrote.

Callan looked back at the socializing nobles. “Do you also think it is unnatural for Viggo to be up so early?” he joked.

No. It’s the ocean. Something’s not right. It’s…bitter, Dylan wrote, struggling to put her feelings into words. Everything was off. The ocean was darker than usual, and the sea brine stung Dylan’s eyes instead of soothing her nose. She could feel it in her bones the same way she could feel whale songs. Something was wrong.

Dylan looked over to see if Callan was laughing at her. To her surprise, he looked disturbed. He caught her eyes, nodded, and retreated back to the nobles. “Mother, shouldn’t we return to the palace? Father has that trade meeting soon, and he wanted both of us to attend,” he said.

Dylan paced a few steps, keeping her eyes on the ocean as the skirt of her saffron gown twisted around her ankles. She rubbed her nose and watched the water before she approached it, standing up to her ankles when the tide rushed in. Dylan closed her eyes and listened. There were no whales nearby, but neither were there storms.

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