Sapphire Water, page 17
part #4 of The Witch Brothers Saga Series
I began researching shipping routes as soon as I returned to Chemeketa. There were two options to consider. The Northern Sea Route, which wound go through the north past Russia, then down the Inside Passage from Alaska to the Oregon coast, or the Northwest Passage through Canada.
The Nuckelavee had warned that polar bears might be a problem. Unlike sea creatures, they were less persuaded by our abilities to soothe and repel adversaries, so if they came across one, they would most likely attack.
There weren’t vast numbers of polar bears who would stand in our way, but according to the Dorcha, the ones who would be waiting for us were starving. “The power of persuasion is lost on creatures struggling to survive themselves. We will be seen as food rather than a passing curiosity,” Muir had reported him saying.
When Muir presented the Nuckelavee with my alternate idea of the Northwest Passage, he’d explained we were safer facing the boats along the Northern Sea Route, following the Russian coastline. I knew the Nuckelavee spent most of his life in the Arctic Ocean and he knew the shipping routes better than anyone, so I had to trust him. In the end, we did.
“That’s a lot of trust we’re putting in the Dorcha,” Muir pointed out the night we both agreed to support the Nuckelavee’s proposed route.
“We don’t really have any other viable options. He has to know if we don’t get the Selkie safely to Oregon’s coast, the Dorcha won’t have much chance of getting through either.”
“I just wish I had a way to know for sure that this will work,” Muir admitted.
“I wish I had a way of making sure myself. I’ll be with you, though. I’ve decided to make the journey too, and if anything goes awry, I can help.”
That night, after I woke up, I lay in bed thinking about everything these people were being asked to do. Trusting their most bitter enemies with their lives, with nothing but their good faith and my ancestors’ warnings to go by. It was a scary proposition with no guarantee of success.
I ended up catching the same private jet back to Scotland, and the pilot said he would help transport any sick or elderly Selkie via plane. It was a kind offer, but watching Muir struggle in flying across the Atlantic, I was almost sure none of them would accept. Of course, we’d have to see, so I thanked the pilot and told him I’d let the folks in Chemeketa know of our final plans.
By the time I reached the Orkneys, I felt exhausted and dirty from the travel. All I wanted was to bathe, see Muir, and sleep. I decided to forgo a hotel and had a taxi drive me to the beach. I slipped my foot into the water and waited for Muir to connect with me. Connect and hopefully meet me with my pelt so I could join him, letting the sea refresh me, build my energy reserves back up, and then sleep cuddled up with my man.
forty-four
Muir
I felt David’s arrival on our shores, and knowing I’d have him back in my arms soon made me happier than I’d been in a long time. With that joy came a rush of sadness, though, because his presence meant I’d be leaving my home within a matter of days.
I shed my pelt upon reaching the beach and the moment David saw me, he ran into my arms. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said as he held me tightly and pressed kisses along my neck while breathing in my scent.
“I’ve missed you too. I brought your pelt. I want to swim with you.”
David smiled, stripped, and stashed his clothes, then donned his pelt as I did mine. As we swam among the kelp beds, he sent images of his trip, time he’d spent with his brothers, and the new dimension in the in-between, as he called it. I knew it was to fill me in on what he’d accomplished, and while I was proud of him, it was the furthest thing from my mind right now. I only wanted to spend time with him, to revel in his closeness, before our responsibilities caught up with us.
Finally, he seemed to get the message, and we played in the water, diving and leaping from the surface, just living in the happiness of us as a couple.
Exhaustion eventually took over, and I should’ve known David would be fatigued by his journey. Even the thought of flying on that horrible machine again tired me.
That night we lay wrapped in each other’s arms in a sea cave, much like the night he found and saved me. Our first time making love. Strangers, but somehow not.
But that was all the time we were given to spend together, just the two of us. The next morning, I felt the Nuckelavee waiting outside the cave entrance and went out to greet him.
“I can sense the Dion Adair is nearby. Is he here?”
I was just about to say he was asleep when David came out behind me, also wearing his pelt. “I’m here, Nuckelavee.”
It was almost as if the creature sighed with relief when he saw him. “That is good, for I’m afraid there are more dangers than anticipated.”
David’s look of confusion matched my own. Then the Nuckelavee sent images of Russian ships gathering in force off their coast. “I believe it will be safer if we go through the Northwest Passage, even if it means facing more polar bears.”
The Nuckelavee hesitated, then added, “If we don’t go now, we will be forced to contend with more ice, making the bears even more dangerous.” He looked at me. “You should speak to your council, for if we can’t leave within the next week or so, we should wait until the spring thaw.”
David nodded. “I agree, damn,” he said, then turned to me. “Can you prepare the council? I should speak to the Nuckelavee in more detail before we discuss this with the Elders.”
I nodded and rushed toward the Elders’ beach. It was still early, so I knew they wouldn’t be there yet, but the main guards would send scouts to fetch each councilmember when I informed them the Dion Adair had called a meeting.
Once the great chamber filled with the Elders, David and the Nuckelavee arrived to discuss the new threat and change of plans.
I was impressed at how patient the Nuckelavee was as he answered the council’s questions. He explained how the pack ice grew and of its dangers, as well as that of the polar bears.
The Council of Elders was clearly alarmed, and understandably so. “I said this to Muir, and I’ll say the same to you. If we cannot leave within the week, we should wait until the spring thaw. Our best chance of success requires we go without further delay,” the Nuckelavee concluded.
“We aren’t ready,” Regani said, and I could tell she was about to call off the move.
“Then those who aren’t ready will have to stay back,” David said. “I’m sorry, Regani, but it’s more dangerous to hold off. The boundary protections are now completely down. The Selkie have had numerous close calls this summer, and I assume they were close rather than fatal only because of my predecessor's momentary strengthening of the boundaries. If we don’t go now, there will be casualties, of that I’m sure.”
He waited a moment, then added, “Anyone who wishes to join us must be ready to leave in three nights.”
Regani looked ready to argue, but Caelan caught her eye, and she paused. “I understand, Dion Adair. We will let everyone know to prepare for the journey.”
We spent the rest of the day helping prepare the Selkie to leave their homeland. Anyone who couldn’t or didn’t want to travel the distance by sea could travel via the flying machine, David had told them. To my surprise, several agreed, but I was sure they had no idea what they were up against.
When I spoke to David about it, he told me he’d reach out to Chemeketa and ask if they could send people to help keep the Selkie calm during the flight, just as Marta had done for me. Ultimately, Caelan and Regani agreed to lead those who wished to travel by air instead of swimming.
“I’m actually quite glad they’re doing this,” David told me. “I haven’t spent time in the oceans of Dóiteán. It’s a great opportunity for the Selkie people to get the lay of the land, well, sea, before we bring in the other sea folk.”
The discussion about searching the new oceans was what persuaded Caelan and Regani to do so. Of course, when they agreed to do it, most of the council’s Elders decided they would fly as well.
It would be better for them physically, too, since Caelan and Regani were quite a bit older, as were most of the councilmembers. Caelan pulled me aside after that decision had been made, and said, “You will speak for me on this journey, and fully reclaim your place as head warrior,” he said. “I know you are close to the Dion Adair. You will be working as a team, and the people will follow you as long as you both agree.”
Regani came up behind him and agreed. “The first key to leadership is to argue in private, then present a united front. Nothing scares people more than thinking you are not prepared to keep them safe.”
I bowed my agreement and then spent time preparing them for air travel. “It’s not my first time,” Caelan said, surprising me. He chuckled at my expression. “When I was doing my coisich mun cuairth, I met several land humans my age who took me up in their plane.”
“And you are willing to go again?” I asked.
He laughed out loud. “I enjoyed it once the thrill of being in the sky settled. It was beautiful and peaceful, like when you’re in the sea, with no other creatures around.”
I nodded, thinking that might be a good analogy. However, I had been so afraid on my trip that I hadn’t had time to feel that sort of peace, even with Marta’s soothing chants.
Selkie don’t have possessions, not like land humans do, so preparing to leave was more about coming to terms with it emotionally than anything else. The only thing I carried was the sapphire necklace against my throat, the Dion Adair’s stone, as I had the first time. The power that it once held had gone, but it felt like a good luck charm, and because David wore the sapphire bracelet his grandmother had left him, it showed a united front to my people.
Those making the journey by sea were ready to leave by the end of the third day, just as David had instructed—physically ready, at least. Emotions ran high and feelings of sadness and anxiety, even fear, were palpable among the group.
Those making the journey by air had left on the big flying machine the day before, and along the way Regani had collected David’s possessions from where he’d stashed them on the beach. No Selkie had chosen to stay in the ancestral land, and there was a collective feeling of melancholy about what we were leaving behind. Even the gathered Dorcha were showing signs of stress about the trip.
David and the Nuckelavee swam out first, with the highest-ranking Dorcha and Selkie warriors, me included, following behind.
A coalition of warriors from the Dorcha and Selkie swam behind the lead group, while the rest either flanked our large traveling pod or brought up the rear. We would also be stopping in Iceland to collect the small Mer tribe that would swim with us through the Northwest Passage. The Nuckelavee had said they were familiar with it, so they would also be our guides.
We were on our way. Sorrow was heavy in us all as the Selkie sent images to one another of the places along our ancestral grounds they loved the most. Sea caves, sun-warmed beaches, patches of ocean where the currents flowed through and brought abundant swarms of tasty fish, now passing into the realm of memory. It was the end of an era, and although we all felt some excitement for the journey ahead, we were also mourning all that we would never have again.
forty-five
David
The journey to the Arctic Circle was, thankfully, uneventful. We traveled from the Scottish isles to the Faroe Islands on the first day, which was a long journey, although it was still part of the original Selkie territory. The Dorcha and Selkie alike were tired after the long swim across open water, so we took a break before continuing on to Iceland.
“I’m very glad we sent our young, elderly, and infirm on the flying machine,” Muir said.
I nodded. “Yes, I was concerned about how well they’d do on such a long journey.”
“It’ll get better once we reach Canada,” the Nuckelavee said, surprising us. He’d turned himself into a gigantic Greenland shark the moment we got to the Faroe Islands and had all but disappeared from view. Neither of us knew he’d transformed back into his usual intimidating self.
“But that’s when we have to watch for polar bears,” I said, causing him to nod and flash feelings of concern at us.
“As long as we are careful, I think we will be fine,” he said. “The bears will be looking for things to eat inland at this time of year since there is almost no ice,”
“Unless they swim out to meet us,” I said warily. I wasn’t an expert on polar bears, but I did know they were expert swimmers, and I also knew seal was a favorite prey.
We spent several nights traveling around Iceland, and that was when I began to enjoy the marine elements of our trip. It wasn’t until a pod of narwhals with a beluga adoptee swam among us that I realized I was letting my fears keep me from embracing this new experience. The Dorcha were also becoming friendlier, and even they seemed to be taking the time to enjoy this epic journey we had undertaken together.
That night, I noticed my calmer demeanor was helping Muir as well. I felt bad knowing his nerves were frayed, because I was giving off such tense energy. That’s it, I thought. I’m going to be much more Selkie-like from now on.
I knew before we started that seals could stay out at sea for several days, so our long journey didn’t concern me in that way. However, the northern seas were known for bad storms. Each day before we ventured too far, I’d cast out my senses, using the air energy I acquired from the Chemeketa people, to see if any storms loomed and then navigate our way around the worst of them.
There were days of rough weather and choppy seas, which concerned me, but neither the Selkie nor the Dorcha seemed in the least bit worried. They were all much more experienced swimmers than me, after all.
When we finally arrived at the tip of Greenland, I sensed something distinct but unfamiliar in the water around us. Something I couldn’t identify. I was just about to put everyone on high alert when the Nuckelavee, in his shark form, angled sharply toward a pod of sea creatures swimming toward me.
They felt different from sea mammals and fish, and that was when it occurred to me. These were the Mer people. The Selkie began to move their ranks toward the shore, which was the only place we’d seen in a while not covered in ice. The Dorcha never went on land, so they scattered to find food. I stayed with Muir and a few other warriors and waited for the Mer people to reach us.
I had no idea what to expect as the creatures drew closer. They didn’t look anything like the merfolk of legend or modern pop culture. Long legs were fused and ended in flipper-like feet with no scales. They had a humanoid appearance but looked more sea mammal than human. I imagined if they were seen off the side of a ship, people would assume they were dolphins or whales of some kind.
Images swam through my mind as the group greeted us, but like the first time I’d met the Dorcha, I couldn’t decipher what was being said. I looked to Muir and clearly, he didn’t understand them either.
The Nuckelavee ended up being the interpreter. “These are the Mer people of the North Atlantic,” he said. “They wish you well.”
I returned a similar greeting, then asked him why we couldn’t understand each other.
“Because they have yet to bite you.”
“What?” I asked in alarm. “I have to be bitten to understand them?”
I felt ambivalence flow through the Nuckelavee. “Most things in the ocean bite. It isn’t always meant as an act of aggression,” he sent back.
A large male came closer, his bright blue eyes taking me in. I put my flipper out as a greeting, and flinched as he bit me, barely puncturing the skin. “Greetings, landling,” he said, and I could hear mirth in his comment.
“Greetings to you,” I sent back, unsure what to call him.
The meeting wasn’t as auspicious as I figured it would be. Of course, as I spent time with them, I understood it would’ve been quite different had we not been announced. They were extremely wary of anyone not totally of the sea. “Under normal circumstances, we’d even be wary of the Selkie,” the male who had bitten me said. When they explained this to us, I got the feeling they were friendly with the Inuit people, but that was just a glimmer that came to me. Their language, a mix of images and what sounded like whale calls, was still so odd that I wasn’t catching everything that was said.
That night, the Mer people, who incidentally weren’t opposed to that name, explained that they had settled in Greenland in the summers for safety. They would often travel with pods of whales to warmer climates during the winter months, but they had to be careful to avoid being detected.
When the leader of the tribe, Enki, came on land and transformed into a godlike man with dark skin, bright blue eyes, and a chiseled body, I almost fell over. When I looked at Muir, he was giving me a very jealous glare. Still being in my seal form, I sent him an image that I hoped meant, “What do you expect? He’s gorgeous.”
Muir ended up chuckling, which was a relief. Then we both took off our pelts and greeted the man. “I didn’t know you could transform,” I said.
Enki smiled. “Only for a short time, then our skin dries out and we suffer. Unlike you, we can only be out of the water for brief periods.”
I noticed he was still sending mental images to me, so I asked if he could speak. To answer my question, he opened his mouth, and a loud screech came out that sounded like an animal in distress.
“That’s a no, then,” I said, and Enki sent an image laced with his strange-sounding song that basically equaled a chuckle.
“We are not of humans like you, the Selkie, and the Dorcha. We are of the ancient Fae. We are of the sea.”
“That explains why you can’t leave it.”
He nodded, then moved back into the surf, and transformed into the sea mammal from before.
“We will need assistance moving across the land, if that is what you have in store for us,” Enki shared.
“I don’t think that will be necessary. We’re working with witches to build a portal to cross into another dimension. The portal will be connected to the sea in this realm as well as the other.”
