The Unkindest Tide (October Daye #13) - Seanan McGuire Page 0,116

I did the only thing I could do and leapt off the edge of the dock, arms pinwheeling wildly as I plummeted toward the waiting sea. Two immersions in one day. Three, if I counted entering and leaving the knowe at Saltmist as separate incidents. Lucky, lucky, lucky me.

The wind whipped at my face as I fell. I barely had time to close my eyes and hunch my shoulders before I slammed into the water like a stone flung through a window. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs and shoved me well below the surface. I gasped, unable to help myself. Water filled my mouth and throat, and for a moment, I knew what it had been like for Isla when she drowned, betrayed by a world she had believed would always, always love her.

The Luidaeg’s magic flared around me, and my body changed without my urging it to do so, acquiring fins and scales and most importantly, gills. I took a grateful breath, feeling the water fill me as a source of life, not death. It seemed lighter now, more welcoming. I turned over, getting my bearings back, and flicked my tail to drive me toward the surface.

Isla’s sealskin was there, tangled in the kelp. I took it in my hands, and nearly let it go again as it began singing through my skin, offering me the waves, the world—an escape.

Put me on, and you won’t have to worry about the prophecy made for your mother’s sake, it whispered. Only a child of Amandine’s line can be so bound. You could be free. You could be with your daughter forever, for eternity, for always. Put me on, and be remade.

It was tempting. Of course it was tempting. The skin wanted to be worn. Whether it was a compulsion charm or simple self-preservation, the skin wanted to be worn, and I was the closest available wearer.

No wonder the Selkies had always worked so hard to make sure their skins were passed hand to hand, and not left to sit fallow on a shelf, waiting for a worthy bearer. An unworn skin was a skin seeking a shoulder to wrap itself around.

Well, it wasn’t going to be mine. I knew how Selkie skins worked, thanks to the Luidaeg tying one around my daughter. If I draped it over myself, even for a second, everything I was would be remade, Dóchas Sidhe replaced by Selkie-maid forevermore. It would be a way for the Selkies to save themselves: without me, the Luidaeg wouldn’t be able to resurrect the Roane. My place in Amandine’s line would end, leaving only Mom, and August, to play whatever role Faerie intended for our messed-up little family.

“They have to be taken voluntarily,” I muttered to myself, tightening my grip on the skin, resisting the urge to cast it aside as fiercely as I could. “They aren’t leeches, they can’t just latch on.” For all that the skin felt hot and vital in my hands, it wasn’t moving. It couldn’t grab me.

Now there was just the question of how I was going to get back up. I twisted in the water, looking toward the edge of the dock high above me. Tybalt and Quentin were both leaning over the edge. Tybalt was back in his human form, making no effort to hide his displeasure as he glowered down at me. I raised one hand in a small, sheepish wave.

“Hi,” I called. “Either of you got a rope?”

SEVENTEEN

THEY DID NOT, in fact, have a rope. Or a ladder, or even so much as a pool floaty. What they did have was a traumatized Selkie who wanted his sister’s skin back, and was perfectly happy to jump into the water after me. Since that wasn’t currently an option, a bunch of yelling followed, while Tybalt and Quentin tried to restrain him without looking like they were restraining him. Fun for the whole dysfunctional family.

After consulting with René, it was determined that the fastest way to get me back into the Duchy of Ships without causing a panic among the rest of the Selkies would be to swim around to the merchant docks and hitch a ride in a fishnet. Surrounded by fish. Because that wasn’t going to give me nightmares for the remainder of my semi-immortal life.

“I hate water,” I muttered, kicking along with my head just above the surface. Several enterprising waves had already slapped me in the face, but it was better to be able to