And that’s when I see her—a young woman only a few feet away from me.
She is, by far, the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, even dressed as she is in a simple white tunic. Her long, silver hair sparkles like sun glinting off a waterfall and spills out over translucent skin so pale, it’s almost blue. She has a lithe, graceful figure, her legs folded together to one side, her weight supported by slender, alabaster arms.
But it’s her eyes that are the most riveting. They’re huge and gray as a stormy sea. And they’re filled with wild terror.
She’s in a cage. An actual, locked cage, only big enough for her to sit in, not stand, and it’s placed on a table. Two men stand staring at her while engaged in some private conversation. On the other side of the cage, two boys are poking at her side with a long, sharp stick, trying for a reaction.
She doesn’t seem to even register that they’re there. She’s looking straight atme, her eyes absolutely locked on to mine. Her look is one of such primal fear, I pull back from the sheer force of it, my heart beginning to pound against my chest.
The woman lunges forward, grabs fiercely at the bars in front of her and opens her mouth. My head jerks back in surprise as slender rows of silvery slits on both sides of the base of her neck fly open, her skin puffing out around them.
Holy Ancient One—she hasgills!
The woman lets loose a high-pitched, earsplitting croak, the likes of which I have never heard before. I have no idea what she’s trying to scream, what’s happened to her voice, but still, her meaning is clear. She’s crying out for my help.
The men jump at the sound, put their hands over their ears and shoot her a look of annoyance. The boys laugh, perhaps thinking they provoked her cry. The boys push the stick into her once more, harder this time. Again, she doesn’t flinch. She just keeps her eyes locked on mine.
My eyes dart to the sign on the storefront above her.Pearls of the Ocean, it reads. Suddenly the carriage lurches forward, and she’s gone.
“Aunt Vyvian,” I cry, my voice strained and high-pitched, “there was awoman! With...gills! In acage!” I point to the window on the side where she had been, my heart racing.
My aunt glances quickly in the direction of the window, her expression one of mild disgust. “Yes, Elloren,” she says, sighing. “It was hard to miss the screeching.”
“But, but...what...” I can barely get the words out.
“Selkies, Elloren, it’s a Selkie.” She cuts me off, clearly not wanting to discuss it further.
I’m stunned by her nonchalance. “She was in acage!” I point again at the window, still not believing what I just saw.
“Not everything is how it appears on the surface, Elloren,” she says stiffly. “You’ll have to learn that if you’re going to be part of the wider world.” She peers over at me and studies my troubled face, perhaps seeing that a longer explanation is unavoidable. “They may look like humans, Elloren, but they aren’t.”
The very human-looking, terrified eyes of the young woman are burned into my mind. “What are they?” I ask, still shaken.
“They’re seals. Very fierce seals, at that.” My aunt pauses to lean back against the elaborately embroidered cushions. “Long ago, the Selkies were enchanted by a sea witch. Every full moon they come to shore somewhere on the coast, step out of their seal skin and emerge in human form. For many years they caused a great deal of havoc—attacking sailors, dismantling ships. It was terrible.”
“But she looked so frail.”
“Ah, it’s like I just said. Appearances can be deceiving. Selkies, in possession of their skins, are stronger than the strongest Mage, and like most seals, they are very dangerous predators.”
“And without their skins?”
“Very good, Elloren.” My aunt looks pleased. “You’ve gotten right to the heart of it. Without their skins, they can be easily controlled.”
“Why?”
“Because they lose their strength, and because they cannot transform back into seals without them. Without their skins, they cannot get back to the ocean. Being wild animals, no matter how long they are kept in human form, they desperately want to get back to their ocean home. They’re not human, Elloren. It’s only an illusion. Don’t let it trouble you.”
“But why was she in a cage?”
My aunt grimaces at my question, like she’s detected an unpleasant odor. “Some people like to keep them...as pets.”
I scrutinize her face. She’s not looking at me. She’s now glancing toward the window impatiently.
“She...she looked soterrified,” I say, upset.
My aunt’s expression softens. “Well, caged wild animals are never a pleasant sight. I am completely and utterly against the Selkie trade and am doing everything I can to wipe it out.” She pats my hand reassuringly.
I feel some measure of relief wash over me.