We slow, the Selkie and I panting heavily, her gills ruffled open, her thin wrist weak and fragile in my hand. She stumbles, and I throw an arm around her before she can fall. We’re a few paces away from the University grounds, barely hidden by the thinning trees.
“Elloren.” I hear Yvan’s calm voice from a few feet away. The Selkie flinches at the sound of it. “Have you thought through where you’re going to hide her?” Yvan is leaning calmly against the trunk of a large tree, studying me, looking like he hasn’t even broken a sweat.
“No,” I reply defensively as I reach up with my free hand to stroke the trembling Selkie’s strange hair.
“This is a little reckless, you know that, right?”
I glare at him as I catch my breath. “Oh, and rescuing dragons from the Gardnerian military isn’t?” I really don’t need this from him right now.
The corners of his mouth lift into a wry smile.
“It was the right thing to do, Yvan,” I say.
He nods, serious again. “I know it was.”
There’s something new in his expression. Something that catches me completely off guard.
Respect.
We’re both startled by the sound of a horse whinnying nearby.
I whip my head around and see Andras Volya, the young, heavily rune-marked Amaz man—Professor Volya’s son. He’s a short distance away from us, across the wide field astride a large, black mare.
He’s staring straight at us.
The horror of being discovered presses down on me.
Andras pulls hard on the horse’s mane. The animal rears and turns sharply around before galloping away toward the University stables.
“Oh, Sweet Ancient One,” I breathe. “You don’t think he saw us, do you?”
“I think he did,” Yvan says, his voice low.
“What do you think he’ll do?”
Yvan narrows his gaze and looks toward Andras’s receding figure. “I don’t know.” He sets his green eyes on me. “But we need to get her inside. Before anyone else sees her.”
CHAPTER NINE
Refuge
Diana crouches down next to me and peers under the bed.
The Selkie is lying listlessly on her side, a glazed look in her eyes.
“I can smell her fear,” Diana observes. “She’s in shock. And she’s soiled herself.” Diana stands up and crosses her arms in front of herself authoritatively. “Elloren, go get your new violin.”
I’m deeply rattled and thrown by how unrattled Diana is. Yvan’s gone to get food for the Selkie. It’s best that he left, as the seal-girl was in such a panic to get away from him, she scrunched herself up far under my bed. She’s obviously terrified of men.
I peer up at Diana, my brow knitting together in puzzlement. “Why?”
“Selkies love music. I read it somewhere once. It may calm her.”
I get up and shoot a skeptical look at Diana. Trystan and Rafe recently gifted me with a second-hand violin, the only instrument they could afford. It was a touching gesture and deeply appreciated, but the instrument’s wood is slightly warped and it can barely hold a tuning.
Initially, I sent word to Uncle Edwin, asking him if there was a spare violin that could be sent, since mine was destroyed. I received a prompt response from Aunt Vyvian, who has taken over my uncle’s care and evidently his affairs as well, his mail now rerouted directly to her.
My Dear Niece,
I would be happy to send you the finest violin Valgard has to offer. I have friends who play in the Valgard Symphony, and I’m sure they could procure a brand-new Maelorian violin lacquered in the color of your choice. How does that sound?
You have great musical talent, just like your blessed grandmother, and I want nothing more than to help foster it once you are fasted to Lukas Grey.
Please let me know when that happy event has transpired.
With Affection,
Vyvian
Resigned to a substandard instrument, but bolstered by the fraternal affection it represents, I fetch the coarsely-made violin.
After what the Selkie’s been through, I doubt a little off-key music will make it all better. Still, it’s worth a try.
I sit down on the floor and begin to play, the music enveloping the room. Ariel watches us suspiciously from her bed. Wynter hops down from her usual perch on the windowsill to the surface of my desk.
“Keep playing,” Diana directs. “Her fear is lessening.”
After an hour my fingers are beginning to hurt, my neck starting to ache, but the Selkie remains decidedly under the bed. “It’s not working,” I say, turning to Diana.
Wynter unexpectedly opens up her wings and hops down from my desk to land lightly on her feet. She crouches down, then closes her eyes as if deep in meditation. Finally, she raises her head and begins to sing. She sings in High Elvish, the words smooth and graceful as flowing water, winding around the room.
“Elloren,” Diana breathes.
The Selkie’s blue-white arm appears from beneath the bed and reaches out toward Wynter. Wynter continues to sing as she takes the Selkie’s hand and leads her slowly out until the seal-girl curls into a ball and hides in the shelter of Wynter’s wings.
Wynter strokes the Selkie’s hair as she continues to sing her mournful song, a wet trail of urine now streaking the floor.
“We should get her cleaned up,” observes Diana, wrinkling her nose. “Ariel,” she orders, “go heat up the bathwater.”
“Do I look like your servant?” Ariel snaps.
“No,” replies Diana, “but we could make use of your abilities. Don’t you like starting fires?”
Unable to resist playing with fire, Ariel stomps off toward the washroom, muttering to herself darkly.
*
Wynter and I manage to get the exhausted Selkie into the washroom as Diana goes downstairs to fetch a bucket and mop. Wynter cradles the Selkie and sings to her as I gently help her out of her clothes. The Selkie doesn’t struggle. She just looks at us with wide, sad eyes, her body limp as a rag doll. As I pull her tunic over her head, I gasp, my hand involuntarily flying up to cover my mouth in horror. Wynter stops singing.
The Selkie’s entire body is bruised and beaten. Bright red lash marks crisscross her blue-white skin.
Diana walks in, swinging a large, wooden bucket full of soapy water in one hand, a mop in the other. When she sees the Selkie, she freezes, her mouth falling open. She quickly collects herself and sets the bucket neatly on the floor and the mop carefully against the wall.
“I’ll be right back,” she says, her voice pleasant. “I’m going to go kill him now.”
Her tone is so nonchalant it takes my mind a few seconds to process the meaning of her words.
“Wha...what?” I stutter as Diana turns on her heel to leave.
She stops and turns to look at me like I’m daft. “The man who did this to her,” she explains slowly, as if I’m a child. “I’m going to snap his neck. He deserves to die.”
I spring up, my hands flying out to caution her. “Wait, no, you can’t!”
“Of course I can,” she says, annoyed. Her expression turns thoughtful. “No, of course you’re right, Elloren.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Snapping his neck would be much too quick and painless.” She nods matter-of-factly. “He deserves to suffer for this. I will beat him first. And I will mark him like he marked her.” Diana’s eyes momentarily take on a wicked gleam. “Then I will tear his throat out.”
Panic mushrooms inside me. “You...you can’t kill him!”
“Why do you keep saying that?” She looks offended. “Of course I can kill him.”
“You’ll get in serious trouble!”
She shoots me an incredulous, disgusted look. “With who? Not with my people. If my mother was here, she would have already torn this man to pieces.”
“At least wait until we’ve spoken to Rafe,” I plead.
She places a hand on her hip and glares at me with exasperation. “Oh, fine,” she relents. “I can smell your fear. It is completely unwarranted, but if it will set your mind at ease, we will speak with Rafe first.”
Diana directs Wynter to go and fetch Rafe, and to my surprise, Wynter leaves to get him without hesitation.
“Your brother will agree with me,” Diana assures me as she kneels to wash the wounds on the Selkie’s back with a soft cloth. “And then I will kill this man. And after I kill him, I will rip his head off and bring it back to the Selkie. It will bring her much comfort to know he is dead.”