Page 183 of The Black Witch

“I really don’t want to interrupt this rather fascinating theological debate you two seem to be having,” Trystan interjects wryly, “but can we get back to the topic at hand?”

Diana crosses her arms in front of herself, visibly fuming at Rafe. “You will feel differently when you become one of us,” she insists.

“Wait a minute,” Trystan interrupts, eyes flying open. He shoots Rafe an incredulous look.“One of us?”

“I’m thinking about becoming Lupine,” Rafe explains offhandedly.

“Thank you for informing your siblings,” I put in with some censure. Of course, I know this already, but I’m still vexed that Rafe hasn’t bothered to talk to Trystan and me about it.

“You’re going to become...Lupine,” Trystan repeats, as if in a momentary daze.

Rafe shoots Trystan a level stare. “I don’t particularly enjoy being a Gardnerian, you know that.” His mouth tilts into a cagey grin, his tone gaining an edge. “I’d rather be out in the woods. Not hating everyone on Erthia.”

Trystan is blinking at him, disbelieving. “Can I be there when you tell Aunt Vyvian?”

Rafe laughs.

I reach up to massage my temple, a headache beginning to throb.

Everyone is silent for a long moment.

“All right, then,” Trystan finally says with a respectful nod toward Diana. He glances around at all of us, his usual calm restored as if everything is all settled.

Cael, Rhys, Andras and Yvan are looking at my brothers and me as if we’ve all sprouted horns.

“How did the three of you become this way?” Cael wonders. “How is it that you have sprung up from the same family as Carnissa Gardner and Vyvian Damon?”

My brothers and I glance at each other, at a loss over how to answer.

“Our uncle,” Rafe replies. “He’s somewhat eccentric. He raised us.”

“He’s going to get himself killed,” Cael observes, half in jest, but with an undertone of real warning.

I swallow apprehensively, not liking such teasing. “Uncle Edwin keeps to himself,” I say. “No one would want to hurt him...”

“You three are as close to Gardnerian royalty as you can get,” Cael points out. “And this uncle of yours, he raised you to be so...subversive. It’s amazing he’s still alive. He must be a very clever man.”

It’s an odd choice of words to describe our bumbling, bookish uncle Edwin, who spends his free time making herbal teas, hunting for mushrooms and playing with my cat. Who often goes looking for his glasses when they’re sitting on his head.

“Seems to me you two are bucking tradition a little yourselves,” Rafe says to Cael, “with your support of your sister.”

“Maybe we should get back to talking about the Selkie?” Jarod suggests diplomatically.

“She needs to be named,” Diana points out. “We can’t keep referring to her as ‘the Selkie.’ It’s insulting. She deserves to be named.”

Rafe’s look of amusement disappears as he studies Diana. “You’re right.”

“Marina,” says Wynter quietly. “It means ocean. It’s where she wants to go. Where her family is. I think that should be her name.”

“It’s beautiful,” I tell Wynter as she wraps her wings tightly around herself.

Rafe is looking around, gauging everyone’s response. “Well, if we’re all in agreement,” he says, “Marina it is. Now, my understanding is that Yvan has brought us some books from the archives that contain information about Selkies.”

Yvan leans over to pull two leather-bound volumes from a sack next to him.

“It’s not much,” he says, “but it’s all I could find. I think the main problem is finding her skin. Unless it is in her possession, she can’t return to her seal form. It must have been stolen from her when she was captured, or she wouldn’t be so weak. A Selkie with her skin is as strong as a Lupine.”

Diana straightens, always pleased with Lupines being used as the strength standard.

---