It felt a little like alcohol over abraded flesh, or something forcing its way into too tight a space. But eventually, the power began to soothe until finally it just felt good.
Trill watched me, in pony form, from a short distance away. Her little black hooves were planted firmly in the sand, but her seaweed mane and tail tossed as she waited impatiently. I didn’t let her rush me, however. Instead, I slowly—painfully—stretched my magical muscles, feeling them twinge and balk but finally accede to use. Eventually, when I was ready, I opened my eyes and grinned at her. Then I used my magic to dart away, looking back at the kelpie in a clear declaration of “catch me if you can.”
I was moving slower than I ever had in the water, and sometimes my whole system would stutter like an old car’s engine, but the more I used my mojo the easier it got and the better I felt. Trill followed at a short distance, allowing me to feel like we were really chasing one another even if she was clearly humoring me.
Swimming close to shore at first, to get the old sea legs back, I went through the sort of basic magical exercises with which I’d started out my training. Trill obliged me by sitting still when I worked up to lobbing mage balls (albeit underwater mage balls), but eventually she turned the tables. Giving chase, she pushed me to pull more on my power, limbering me up even further.
In the meantime, it felt like heaven to be back in the Atlantic. It was frigid, of course, but either magic or genetics, or a combination of both, kept me from really feeling how cold. All I knew was the water felt delicious against my skin
Like the caress of a mother’s soothing touch, I thought, poetically, until just a moment later that same soothing water smacked me down to the seabed.
In our play, Trill and I had wandered too close to the Old Sow. Her piglets were famous for springing up out of nowhere, whenever and wherever they felt like it, and one had caught me unawares. It didn’t hurt when I landed, but it did knock my breath from me—a tricky situation when I was underwater. I had to calm my natural human reaction to suck in a breath and switch to my instinctual selkie brain to filter my oxygen through my magical connection with the water.
Not that I was in a hurry to pick myself up off the ocean floor anyway. The piglet whirled for a few more minutes nearby, rucking up water and sand and seaweed that rubbed against me in a pleasant exfoliation.
Who needs expensive salons? I thought, closing my eyes firmly against the firm chaff of the swirling grit.
Feels so good, I thought, turning over so that I was lying on my belly, my face toward the Sow. So very good… And if this feels good, think how much better it would feel to be even closer.
There was something about the way the water soothed against my flesh—undulating and gentle—that made me want to move forward. I wanted to feel more, to feel how it felt right over there. So, inching forward on my belly, I kept moving closer to that magnetic pull.
Until I saw rough, black-nailed hands grab me by my wrists and haul me backward till I was sitting quite a distance away.
What the hell were you doing? Trill mouthed at me. I’d gotten very good at reading lips underwater since I’d started swimming with the kelpie.
In response, all I did was blink at her in confusion. What did she mean, what was I doing? I thought. And then I felt the pain.
Looking down, I realized that I was covered in small cuts and bruises. What had, at the time, felt like the gentle exfoliation of a little grit must really have been the pummeling of decent-sized rocks.
Trill’s hands on my shoulders shook me until I looked up at her face. You were going right into the Sow, she mouthed. I had to shift underwater. What were you thinking?
Trill hated shifting underwater; she must have been really worried about me. Which, in turn, made me worry about myself.
I don’t know, I mouthed in response. And I didn’t. I hadn’t felt the pain of the rocks hitting me, hadn’t felt anything but pleasure and curiosity.
Concern was etched all over Trill’s feature as she mouthed, Let’s go home. I nodded, numb.