The Unkindest Tide (October Daye #13) - Seanan McGuire Page 0,54
and when it did, you regretted it. Your regret measures not even a fragment of my own. Mourn your lost peace of mind as I mourn my lost children, and know that we are not even. We will never be even.”
“Yes, Lady,” murmured the five, in ragged unison.
“One among your number came to me with a complaint. An accusation, even, of favoritism to one clan above the others.”
Mathias stiffened. So did Liz.
“I will not claim to be fair. Fairness is neither my blessing nor my burden. But I do listen. Do any others among you feel I showed favoritism to the Ryan clan when I granted them the Lost Skins in exchange for doing me a direly needed service?”
Silence fell, and lasted long enough that I started to hope this was over. Then Joan cleared her throat, and said, “Any of us would have been glad to do whatever you asked. You didn’t ask. You approached the Ryans and granted them a gift the rest of us could never hope to achieve. Yes, it was unfair.”
“I needed the girl to be taught, and the girl needed to remain near her mortal family. None of you are near her mortal family,” said the Luidaeg implacably. “How is this unfair?”
“None of us had any say in where you settled, Lady,” said Mathias. “We would all have been honored to have you near us, ready to ask us for favors as you do the Ryans.”
“You didn’t say that at the last gathering,” said Elizabeth peevishly. “None of you had a kind word to say about the idea of sharing waters with the sea witch when we weren’t getting anything out of it. This is shameful. You shame yourselves.”
“Be quiet,” snapped Isla. “We all know what you did to earn the Lady’s favor.”
She seemed to realize what she’d said a beat too late to stop herself from saying it. Her mouth snapped shut, her eyes growing wide in her suddenly pale face. Elizabeth looked away, staring fixedly at the waves while the tips of her ears burned red.
And the Luidaeg smiled.
“I always wondered when my past would come back to haunt us,” she said, in a conversational tone. “Yes, Elizabeth Ryan was my lover, and yes, I would have kept her with me for as long as her mortal bones could have borne it. I would have lain her to rest in Summerlands soil, in a place where no one would ever disturb her remains, and I would have gone to visit her every sennight until the moons fell from the sky and the sea forgot what it was to sing. But she chose a Selkie’s life, and with it, became one of my children in image if not actuality. And if she keeps that skin tied around her shoulders now, if she doesn’t set it aside, she’ll be mine forever. So no, the Ryan clan has not had my favor for these past thirty years, because the Ryan clan stole my heart when they draped my lover in a stolen skin and called it the sea witch’s blessing. She had my blessing and my bed, and she gave them both away to be exactly like the rest of you.”
She paused, long enough for her words to fully sink in, before she continued, “But you’re right: here, at the ending of all things, it seems only fair that all clans should be treated equally.”
Elizabeth went pale. I knew the bargain the Luidaeg had made with her: in exchange for teaching Gillian, who wasn’t technically a member of any Selkie clan, and whose continued association with Cliff and Janet made her a threat to Faerie, the Luidaeg had given the Ryans eighteen of what they called the “Lost Skins,” Selkie skins that had, through one mechanism or another, found their way back into the Luidaeg’s hands and had not been redistributed. It was a gift beyond price, and I could understand why the other Selkies were jealous, even as I could understand why Liz looked so alarmed. If the Luidaeg wanted to take those skins back . . .
“In two days, the ritual will be performed to strip the Selkies from the sea,” said the Luidaeg. “At that time, anyone who has a skin will be bound to it, and no longer be able to pass it to their descendants. That was the Selkie way, and the Selkie way is ending. But to be bound to a skin, they have to hold it.”