rainstardragon | Entries tagged with kirsty

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Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 53
Chapter 23a
The Serpent's Knot (working title)

“I think that’s enough studying for today.” David frowned at her.

Kirsty blinked at him and looked up from the shoulder currently serving as her pillow. Her cheeks felt hot and stung. By the way his eyes lingered on her cheeks she knew she was red enough to notice. Her arm tightened around his back when the dizziness increased and the sensation of cobwebs and strings being pulled away intensified.

“Should you have a child, whether with the boy or another, you must tell them NOT to strain forward in time.” Mara’s voice brushed her inner ears while the scent of salt filled her nose. It echoed, far off and wavering like a distant radio signal. “Tell me, are there times in classes where you had headaches, perhaps nosebleeds, the last year in school?”

“Way too soon to think about kids, but she is old and once I would have been the right age.”

David’s nose twitched and he looked more curiously into her face as the sea’s scent wafted from her breath into his own.

“That’s noteworthy…” he thought, followed out loud by, “Definitely enough studying. Matron Laryna told to me to make sure you took it easy.”

“But how did we get out here?” She touched her nose lightly. The burn inside made her nibble her lip and wait to see if there would be the dreaded trickle.

His gaze sharpened and the arm she was nestled in tightened as he pulled the book she held open on her lap decisively away and snapped it shut. “We walked after she cleared you to come have some fresh air with me.” He sighed in exasperation and no small amount of hurt since she’d also held his hand during that walk. “You don’t remember? You had begged her to release you early.”

Kirsty shook her head then stopped when it brought back the pressure between her brows. “I don’t, but if you say we did and that I said so, that must be what happened. I’m sorry. Sorry my memories are so scattered.” Her eyes met his and she hoped the shame she felt wasn’t obvious.

His blue eyes only looked into hers in concern, though she saw an unasked and bothered question behind them.

She cast around and tried to remember. She had very hazy memories of the medical wing very slowly returning to focus. Mostly it was blips. The rustle of the Matron’s gown, the sound of David’s voice reading to her while she must have been unconscious, the feel of his hand in hers, the murmuring voices of their friends with him. Questions. Theories. Her aunt’s voice. A short litany of what potions she was taking to regulate the things her age now required when David asked about interactions sometime that he was present during administration. Being hungry and writing a letter that hadn’t been answered yet. Time mashed together and moved in ways she didn’t like.

Where had her school year gone? She knew she’d lived it. Plenty of classes, surely. She did write letter that didn’t she? There was definitely a promise to David that she was going to write that letter.

He frowned and kissed her forehead as lightly as he could. “I’m just worried. You were unwell for too long this time for my liking even before we convinced you to get looked at.”

“Do you ever? I certainly don’t like being unwell.”

“No.” As unobtrusively as he could he tried to check her pupils and how they reacted to the change in light from his shifting. “I really hope this is the last time. I’m the one that’s supposed to have ‘mysterious afflictions’ now and then. Not you.”

She blushed deeper at the kiss, smiling a bit and chuckling very quietly and carefully after the joke processed and kissed his cheek. “Bloody noses I’m sure are not high on the list of attractive features except to vampires.”

“That’s better. I prefer your smile.” He put the book they had been reading together out of the way before slipping both arms around her and laid his head softly over hers when it settled where he’d hoped. “I would have an issue with any vampire going after your nose though. Let’s avoid you putting that mental image in my head again.” When she snuggled more into him and relaxed further the tautness of his body lessened slightly, then continued releasing when he was more certain her melting into him was comfort and not mere exhaustion.

They sat like that on the bench a bit longer while a group of students passed them by on their way to a class. Their eyes landed on the pair then slid away. It was not an unusual thing to see her leaned into him, although his gaze warned them away today. One nodded as they passed, acknowledging the unspoken request. Kirsty continued to rest like that, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart and breathing, the song of the blood moving in his veins, small waves circulating. She smiled slightly.

The moment passed as they all do and he rubbed her back gently after checking his watch. “Time for class.”

“Ok.” She sighed and extricated herself.

He took her hand unthinkingly and helped her rise before they gathered their few possessions and made their way back in. Kirsty paused a moment before they began up the steps, looking above the doorway with furrowed brow and twisted gut.

“Kirsty?” He looked up to the lintel and then back. The symbols of the three houses continued their normal gaze, each busy with checking and rechecking students that passed beneath.

“It’s silly… I just wish there were another way back in.”

“Why?” Now his eyebrows furrowed and drew together before raising in question. Other students continued through and around, though they were neatly off to one side so that anyone running would pass them without jostling.

“I’m… not sure. Something.” She nodded toward the serpent holding its tail, shivering when the eyes landed on hers.

“I’m not sure there is another way in right now, not that we can use. I’m still not clear on why they designed it this way.” He took her hand and squeezed it when she still hesitated. “It can’t get you. He is up there. We are down here. The charm is just some form of mind sifting. Nothing that should hurt you.” David wasn’t clear on why he said the last words, but the set of her mouth and wideness of her eyes bothered him.

A stone snake wasn’t something he could deal with unless it made an obvious move, despite his own uncomfortable experiences with it. He narrowed his eyes at it.

“You’re right. Can’t hurt me. Silly.” She reached up and rubbed between her eyebrows before starting walking again. She squeezed his hand again as they passed underneath, trying to shut her mind when the scaly touch came to it.

He felt her draw away as they passed beneath though her hand was firmly in his and stinging from the brief force of her grip before they were once more out. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it has already hurt her somehow. But how? What do I even look through to find out what to do about it?”

Class passed without remark and mercifully without nosebleed, fainting spell, nor any slightly greenish tinge to her cheeks. He waited for her to be busy with her own affairs before paying a visit to his own head of house, Professor Elphen.

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Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 52
Chapter 22
Whale Graveyard
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

The water passed by, and Kirsty found herself falling deeper into a reverence for the passing of time. She saw creatures of bygone eras from time to time but they did not notice her, or at least chose not to interact. Testing a theory she put a hand out beyond the path and saw a school of very large, savage looking, and toothy fish turn toward her as one. She promptly pulled her hand back within the ley line’s boundary. At one point she saw a large shape roving ahead in her path that by its size and shape could only be a megalodon. Kirsty did not repeat her experiment.
Her blood ran cold, but she tucked that fear into herself as far as she could. It was not Mara herself in that ancient form, but an actual shark. It continued on, away from her path, and she thanked Mara not to have to face such a creature in combat. There would be no rebirth after the devouring nor regrowth of limb with an ordinary shark.
The water began to change after passing through where the megalodon had been. Another cliff rose above her, promising that even further above and beyond would be another continent drifting away from the chasm. In this area columns rose above in challenge to the geology, and the bones ceased. Kelp danced in the current, waving colors from brown, to red, and to green. Fluorescence danced along the blades and revealed strange markings and eldritch sentences.
Kirsty sighed deeply and hung her head a moment, hanging in the water at the boundary. She rubbed her nose a moment and pinched the bridge, then shook her head and continued on after checking her pouch, net, and makeshift spear were in order. The kelp forest parted for her along the ley line, guiding her through the columns to an archway. The cliff disappeared, leaving only the archway.
Kirsty backed up. The cliff reappeared. She groaned.
“Ok. I get it, Mara. I get it. You don’t have to follow the rules of geology in a time pocket if you don’t want to. Right?”
She swam through the archway and into the warmer, shallower water beyond. The cliff disappeared as before and revealed a much shallower plain. The kelp forest continued dancing and she observed schools of fish going about their business. The ley line led on and as she followed it the sound of whale song grew louder and louder. Smaller voices joined larger voices. A chill sent her fur on end, and had she been sunning on a beach she would have puffed, but the water held her fur to her body.
“Calves… Birthing ground? Oh no…”
A ghostly white pod came to view much closer to the ley line than she wished to see it in case she were mistaken for a roving shark. Even if she vocalized, if something spooked them, and made clear she was more of the seal variety of creatures that was unlikely to sooth a panicked bunch of mothers. The tusks were half as long as she, but it was clear how they behaved with the calves these forms were still female. She stuck to the ley line, not wishing to risk leaving it.
One of the calves saw her and tried to make toward her, but was headed off by the cow. Her warbles and clicks intensified, and the calf clicked and vooped plaintively, attempting another stride toward Kirsty as Kirsty continued making her way away as unobtrusively as possible. The discussion faded behind her, and she sighed quietly. Sea unicorns were beautiful and majestic, but she didn’t want to outwit one. She certainly did not feel confident about out-swimming one.
Another song began to fill the water, impelling her instead of merely whispering in her blood as it had always done. As the floor sloped more and she grew aware some of the columns became sea stacks it seemed that they became more numerous. She found herself hastening through the water more and the terrain changed again. Sea caves opened before her now, encrusted with the usual sort of crustacean life. Impulsively she shot into the one she felt the song from the loudest and could not stop herself from dancing with the water.
She shot out into a large semi-roofed cavern. Light filtered from above, bathing everything in blue. She turned around slowly, taking it all in. Columns supported the roof here and there, but the skylight reminded her of the cenotes her parents had told her of in their travels. “I know this place…” the thought whispered through blood, bone, claw, and fur. “I’m here.” Kirsty’s eyes fell at last on a box at the far end which she had not noticed when she entered the temple.
The rough stone box sat on a dais of equally rough stone glowing palely in the light of the filtered sun, neither of which she could be sure of exactly what sort. She made her way toward it slowly, keeping her reverence for Mara firmly in mind lest she risk offending her. She paused in front of it and made the sign that she had learned early in her life above where she could feel the seal of the box and she sang the only phrase her mother and the Book of Seals had been allowed to teach her to help in her quest, a song of reclamation of Self, then set her hand lightly on it.
A large creature whooshed by, grazing her side with a horn in the process. Kirsty barely caught the exhaled breath, only managing to keep half of what she’d drawn in before. Her hand left the stone as the salt began to sting the unexpected wound and her blood entered the water. Kirsty saw the tail flippers of the narwhal bull from before speeding away, and then it turned back toward her faster than she expected such a creature to be able to move in such a semi confined space. She dodged as best she could before hearing a voice and the whale song.
“You have finally found your way. Now you must win it as you may.”
They spun through the water together, he seeking to gore and she shying away at the last moment. The more she ducked and dodged the faster the attacks came at her until she flung her net trying to entangle him. The momentum swept him past again and she clung as the net slid over tusk and she found herself hauled along and slammed against him. Her instincts told her to encase her legs around the bull and hold on so that she could perhaps get her spear into him to defend herself. Her current form instead more firmly held her tail and gave her no purchase but the net.
A pillar slammed into her as the whale attempted to use it to jettison her and she felt a rib crack as her breath whooshed from her lungs. The whale song came again but her ears rang too loudly from the blow to decipher what he said. She jabbed her spear after clearing the pillar, more stinging scrapes than whole skin but the angle struck wrong and all she did was make a gash in his side. The giant flicked and both she and her net sailed ahead of him. Her head hit something hard and the rest of her rolled to distribute the remains of the blow, knocking something heavy askew in the process. She felt the shift and groan of stone on stone in the water only briefly before she was rolling to avoid another attack and raising her spear to perhaps strike a blow of her own. Mara watched from the shadows in an alcove as her favorite bull tested Kirsty’s resolve, a half smile slowly spreading over her normally sternly set face.
The water seemed to have more light to it, but she assumed that was the head blow speaking. The bull had pulled off again but was swinging around for another attempt, flippers passing close enough the current moved her. She tried to remember what she had learned of dealing with large water creatures from the silche’s net and spear hunts under their many varied conditions and techniques but nothing useful sprang from her muscle memory nor from her intellect. Her eye fell on what she’d slammed into.
It was the shining stone box, lid now partially askew. She laid her spear and net atop so that she could thrust the lid open a little further, releasing more of the light. Pelts lay rolled, seemingly more than should have been in such a small space.
“Which is mine?” She shot a look around but the bull seemed to calm as he finished his turn.
The blood hung in the water from the pair of them, the stains slowly fading. The sea unicorn dipped his head and floated in place, watching placidly.
Kirsty looked into the box again, more confident she was not going to have to go on another ride or get gored by a tusk. Grey, brown, black, red, white, mottled and plain skins all shifted around as she watched, trading places. Finally, a small shining white one with a bit of greyish blue markings on the left flipper where a wrist and her deities’ markings might be came to view and she reached for it, forgetting her net and her spear.
Warmth suffused her as she drew it out and unrolled it and her hair streamed out all around her as the currents shifted. Large blue eyes gazed back at her from the head of the skin as if to reproach her for having gotten so lost so easily so many times. Her own voice filled her head with chastisements in Gaelic, followed by the more resigned English she used in school, “But… what is done is done. We go forward together.”
Eyeing the openly lurking whale she slipped the skin on, slipping the head over hers and lining the eyes up with her own. Time began to flow normally and she could feel as her head came together, no longer divided. Net and spear lay forgotten on the box lid as she shifted fully into a proper full seal form. The whale watched as she wove through the water carefully then slid closer to gently prod the box lid. The stones groaned as the lid slid shut. The light returned to its previous low level filtering through the water.
“Do you feel better with your sealskin, Kirsty?” Mara’s voice cut through the elation, bringing a chill despite the youthful gentleness.
The white seal blinked. Where there had only been a whale before there was now both a whale and a far different view of Mara than what Kirsty had ever seen. There was no trace of the usual shark visage. Instead the deity floating and tending the wound of the sea unicorn was clearly a selkie like herself, and somehow more white than her own fur. No blemish colored her anywhere, and she shifted freely between the various permutations of selkie form. One moment she was a full seal, another halfway between with ash grey hair feeling out the water around her and a seafoam skirt swirling about her tail, and yet another she was nearly human save for the same sort of half pelt obscuring things from view she and her mother possessed, explaining at last where her half-pelt fuzz came from and why. Impossibly large eyes turned Kirsty’s way, shifting through all the myriad colors of the sea.
“I suppose… I feel mostly the same as I always did though a little less pulled thin. More in one place than before?”
“Then that is good. Treasure that feeling because there will always be times that even with it you will feel pulled in more than one direction. You’ll have to get better at setting a course.” Mara finished tending the narwhal and patted his side then watched as he went to rejoin his herd.
“I don’t think my path should have been so tangled.”
“No. It shouldn’t have been and I cannot blame that boy you are so set on. I expected better of your wayfinding but I think your path was influenced by more than just your own inner turmoil and the meddling from Finmen. You’ve passed your quest, of course, and you can be fully initiated now and when you return you will find the sealskin you wear now will transform into the white cloak you received so long ago.” Mara frowned a moment and settled on the box beside her. “I’m curious. Can you remember when you began your tests? From the beach?”
Kirsty settled on top of the box where this softer Mara gestured her to do so and tried to remember. “My memories are conflicted… I can remember entering the water and discarding the cloak, and the dress where you asked them to be. I can remember having to fashion a spear. I… am not sure anymore if this is the net I made earlier in the year or if I had to make it along the way. But there are other memories. Another start. It’s all tangled.” Kirsty looked up at Mara, who now bent over her and curtained her with the tendrils of her hair.
“And what are those memories?” The deity’s face was cool and gentle, a soft smile, but now fangs glinted just at the edge of her lips.
The little seal inhaled deeply and sifted carefully. “The Examining Lintel stone at school. I was offered a choice at the stone by the sorters involving splitting my attention between my present time and my future because I was always thinking ahead to it and worrying.”
Mara nodded thoughtfully and bit her lip. “They have been known to interfere, or more accurately one of them in particular has been known to make some waves not of my control.”
The goddess reached down and stroked the seal’s brow, Kirsty crossing her eyes momentarily to look where she reached. Her eyes slid shut just as quickly while the fingers wove over her brow. Though her eyes were closed she could see as various strings were untangled, neatening the balls and ropes of assorted colors that had become wrapped around her. The process was repeated at her heart and again by her tail flippers.
“Should you have a child, whether with the boy or another, you must tell them NOT to strain forward in time, with or without help, when it comes to such quests. You are not the only one that has done this. It is dangerous and does impact how time flows on the quest. I’m sure you are aware how differently time already works when it comes to movements in realms like mine.” The voice was gentle, but somehow more dangerous than when coming from her shark guise.
Kirsty opened her eyes. “Should I have not?”
“Yes. You should have not. You will grow old too soon if you do it again. The brain of those who are incarnate can only withstand so much. Tell me, are there times in classes where you had headaches, perhaps nosebleeds, the last year in school?”
She blinked, surprised why Mara was asking about things so long ago. “They aren’t, they are now.” Some deeper, extremely tired part of her answered. Kirsty reached a fin up to her nose at a sting. A vice clamped at her head and she leaned into the warm shoulder beside her as an arm slipped around her.
Mara frowned and the fingers rose to Kirsty’s forehead again.

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Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 52
Chapter 21b
Whale Graveyard
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Kirsty breathed deeply in relief and made her way down the passage. It led her through a narrow hall a short way to a devotional. She placed her hand in the water and murmured a prayer of thanks and acknowledgment of everything Mara meant to her. The statue seemed to listen, her features wavering between shark and seal like in her mer form, skirts spread wide and floating around her balanced tail. Kirsty removed her hand from the water and touched the Sigil of Mara over herself, taught only to the priestesses.
The sense of déjà vu as a stone slab slid back to reveal a stairway down into the bedrock overwhelmed her. The corners of the passage were demarcated on the outside by inset fossilized shells. As she looked more at the polished floor she saw a plethora of various fossilized sea species.
Had she been here before? Time felt even more strangely compressed and stretched than it had at other points in her quest. Vague impressions of sitting in class by David passed before her eyes, some history lesson. Once her vision returned to the moment her consciousness was in she began her descent.
Kirsty slipped through the various ages of the sea via the geological record and the cap rumbled shut behind her. How deep she climbed into the earth was easily lost with no frame of reference other than herself, and she was small both in size and timespan. A door of stone waited before her at the deepest point. A left handprint had been worn into the center over the eons, and there glowed the Sigil of Mara. She felt the stone search her, flinched in surprise when it felt as if the stone bit her like an exploring shark. Her wrist throbbed where phantom teeth had been, and a broken line of dots nestled inside the gaps of the twining tattooed lines there.
The door opened, and she slipped through. Once she emerged she beheld a fossil sea, still living beneath the earth but trapped and segregated from the living sea above. The sense of tides and time still continued here, and she was aware of ancient things in the water with her. The current of the water spoke of no walls behind her, an open and undefended back. She looked behind to verify or disprove this, and found her senses to be correct.
Only the vast sea greeted her, dark, dangerous, powerful, lonely, a wild remnant of Mara’s youth that Annan made certain would survive when Sea and Earth began their shifting about the globe they shared. Time eddied around her as she moved through this sea until she came to a cliff that fell away below. The call came from below and so she made her way slowly down. Something prickled at the back of her senses, but every time she turned to look she was greeted by nothing but the sea.
She let gravity carry her downward and stared for a time where she kept feeling as if something was there watching her. Only water stared back at her. Kirsty made a small sign of warding over herself and continued downward at a faster rate, ever mindful to allow herself time to adjust.
“I’m probably going to get both physical and psychic bends returning from here if I am not careful.” She spoke to herself inside her own head, a part of herself dimly remarking that it probably was not a good sign she was talking to herself.
At last she reached the sea floor again and followed the path she found there to a gate running between two lance like shells stood on end. No fence kept company, no doors, and yet she knew there was a purpose to the divide. As she made her way through she could feel and taste the differences in the seas. It was colder than the one she left on the other side, sharper. The light fell differently and was even a different color, more of a wan Arctic or Antarctic quality than the more temperate sea.
The presence followed.
She heard a low growl in the water to her right, followed by a challenging whistle. Her whiskers twitched and she dodged the attack she could feel coming from the large dark tusked torpedo defending his territory. The two wove in the water, she trying to continue pressing onward along the path laid out. Straying too far from it was not something she dared allow happen lest she be lost in time.
“Kirsty? Kirsty? Your focus is terrible lately. What’s wrong? You’ve been staring off again.” David’s voice pushed into her mind.
“I don’t know. I don’t feel well. It’s like something is chasing me. I’m not sure if I’m flashing forward to what’s going to happen during my quest.” Her own voice answered him and she continued to dodge and press forward.
“You’ve been doing this a lot lately. Is this normal? Did your parents get like this before theirs?”
“I don’t think so. Aunty would have said so, or they’d have warned me. Wouldn’t they?” The sabertoothed walrus bit at her, nearly catching her flipper as her other self continued the conversation, whether it was in current time or past time. Exploring time more thoroughly she made a mental note to do if she survived.
“They definitely would. Maybe you should write them. I hope you’re not sick” He sounded as if, should she not, he would.
“I will write.” She knew that wherever that body was, that self was, that time was, she was squeezing his hand.
Kirsty wheeled and danced through the water as the walrus caught up to her. Bodies ricocheted off of each other as she fought her panic and looked her pursuer in the eye. He glared back into hers with a keen intelligence and a great deal more curiosity than she expected. She noted that she was in a good position to bite at him, but instead whistled and trilled at him, hoping that she could reason with him.
“I only seek passage to the Lady Mother.” She blinked at herself when that was the title rolling out of her. “It is still my hunting here.” He answered, swishing his head to scythe his tusk at her.
Kirsty dodged but still got partially caught, wincing as her flesh opened and thankful it did not feel as deep as it could have been.
“I will not eat here then. Priestess’ honor.” She dodged again.
“Why do you not fight me, female? Other Priestesses have.”
“I do not need to, there are other ways. For all I know I still have far to go.”
“Very far! Out of my hunting grounds! My mollusks!”
“Your mollusks.” She tried to get past him but he managed to bump her again, and she was tiring from trying to keep her forward momentum so fast for so long. “Would you feel better to escort me out instead of trying to drive me out? I have to interest in food I cannot eat, and I am not here to eat.”
“Strange words, strange speech. I can barely understand you.”
“I think your language may be at the root of the one I speak.”
“All that come through here become harder to understand.” A quiet plaintive note hid behind his blustering bellow.
“Time has moved on out there.” She stopped. He drove on for a bit and stopped when he noticed she did not keep pace.
“Tiny thing. Tell me more. You can earn passage with stories and knowledge. You are a different kind from the others I think.”
They settled to the floor and he found a bed to root through, eating as she spun him tales of when and where she came from, of what little she knew of living in the sea and what she knew of living on the land. She told him of her family, and how her line had to earn the skins that other selkies were normally born with. He watched her as he ate, and she was careful to make no move to the food he consumed. Instead she pressed a flipper to her wound and wondered when she had become a full seal and where her pouch was, dismayed at the thought she’d lost it and praying fervently that it was simply a part of her in this unexpected full transformation. She told her audience also of the things she had seen in her quest so far, the adventures she had had.
Part of her wondered if she was somehow speaking through him to distant ancestors from before the human form had evolved into existence through the experiments of the various deities and natural processes. Finally, she ran out of things to tell him.
“You wouldn’t be a good bard, but you do make a good story keeper.”
“I didn’t expect you to want me to sing all that.” She quipped, a light smile on her lips.
He blinked and then laughed, whistling it through the water. “That might have been a lot to try fitting in a song.”
He finished, then swam beside her as she followed the path. “Are there others I will bother?”
“Probably. Whether you will meet any between here and wherever you are going I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll eventually bother someone, Tiny One.” He smirked and looked out of the side of his eye at her. “Tiny one will do interesting things some day I think.”
“Um… thank you?”
He snorted and waved a flipper at her as they neared the end of his territory. She waved back and continued onward.

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Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 51
Chapter 21a
Whale Graveyard
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

She exited the matrix and promptly heaved whatever little food was still in her gut. It struck her that with time moving so strangely and being on the move so much that she really hadn’t been eating anywhere near as much as she should. Her hand burned where it had been pierced, and she clutched at her sporran to ensure she still had the tome while the world came to focus. Another city had to be here. She could feel it, but she could not see anything that looked like a city. Instead what greeted her eye seemed to be a graveyard. Giant ribs stretched spectral fingers toward the surface reaching into time. Seaweed wove between bones, bringing to mind the streamers she tied to the trees in spring celebrating the return of life. Rocks littered the seafloor between worn basalt columns while sunbeams filtered with severe slants down through the green water, plankton sparking. Above there was earth, the ceiling of a large cave open to whatever direction the light came from. Kirsty took her bearings, listening to the call in her bones and blood, then wove her way slowly between the giants. Several species and sizes seemed to have come to rest here, but primarily what she found all seemed to possess the single elongated tooth that denoted the unicorns of the sea. Narwhals. She knew where she was now, and if Mara’s realm’s rules mirrored that of the mundane world she had a vague idea of at least the latitude range she was within. She stuck closer to the bones as she made her way through, in case she needed a shield from any living narwhal that might be patrolling the waters. It was unsafe to assume that even if she were recognized that she would not be attacked. The wall of a city, at last, came into her horizon, as did a structure that looked like some form of a small temple. She listened again and felt the song within her stronger when she reached out toward the little structure. Opening her eyes again she set her path for the giant swirling shells about the cave entrance. The taste of the water changed as she chose the path, sweeter, yet harsher. A swoop of white and the feel of water pushed out of the way grabbed her attention. It felt like it had originated behind her, and the way she saw the whale pass overhead agreed. There had been nothing of that sort behind nor around her anywhere, neither visually nor otherwise that she had sensed. Where had the narwhal come from? Nevertheless, it now came between her and the goal. A cold black eye regarded her from the pale skin before looping slowly around the temple entrance. A ghost? Living? Either way, here it could probably kill her if it chose. Her eye fell on a much smaller skeleton, definitely, selkie-sized. She allowed herself to sink toward them and explored. Her bones thrummed as she came closer, in the way that they did near the distant cousins rebuilding the village back at home. This skeleton then must be some relative. Kirsty had no idea where the knowledge came from to speak in her bones, but she felt the truth of it pierce her like a tusk. She saw a medallion around his neck, the chain miraculously still intact. Carefully she turned it over, wondering at the compulsion. Was he trying to tell her his story, even in death? Had he reincarnated yet? Was he trying to earn his sealskin and the other part of his soul and a place in selkie society like she was? No… He had been here for another but just as important a reason. Words came, but they were too garbled to hear. On the other side, she saw a carved picture that looked remarkably like a much younger Mrs. Kitsch. This then would have been the young man in her much-loved picture, the one she gave her surname to. And some relative, so what relation did that make her Lightkeeper to her through the mating? Kirsty left the medallion and wondered what and how to tell Mrs. Kitsch if she survived. Whatever brought him here, the only thing Kirsty could think of was that his absence and his purpose were the reason the now old Lightkeeper had stayed alone and patiently waited for his return. With so much salt in the water Kirsty did not notice the tear seep from her eye, nor did she notice the gentle swirl in the water as Mara guided this tear where she wished it to go. Nearby and also within the same ribcage she discovered another selkie skeleton. Broken ribs spoke of being rammed by something large, hard. Kirsty shivered, aware that this too was probably some relative, or at the very least someone from another family of similar circumstance. The cave felt considerably smaller. How many others would she find here, and how many species if she could take the time for the seeking? Clearly, the ribcages would not provide much protection if she had to use them. She removed her net from its place, taking it in her left hand as taught by the mers of the loch, and held her spear in her right. A whale, a large whale at that, was not a fish. Perhaps though, and just perhaps, she could use those skills to defend herself. With how the whale guarded the temple and made no effort to place himself to block the way toward the distant wall, it was clear the temple was definitely where she had to go. Kirsty slinked from grave to grave gently, paying her respects at each she passed. She waited, head lightly bowed, at each for any impressions, visions, or anything else. The others had tried various tactics, she could feel that, and with the dismembered state of some of the skeletons, it seemed that the brash way was not the correct way. No one remained with stories of the correct way though. The whales spoke of long passages, deep dives, births, and the joy of dancing with each other. The selkies spoke of their longings, their distractions, and their worries. It surprised her when she drew up before the giant swirling shell forming the door unassailed. The narwhal swooped by close, still watching her, and for a moment she thought he nodded. She waited and watched his stately passage in case he took offense to seeing her enter. After he passed she slipped through the open door.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

Donate Here via Paypal

Or you can become a monthly patron through Patreon!

Would you rather

at Ko-fi.com?

Crossposts: https://rainstardragon.livejournal.com/1195211.html

This was first pushed to my Deviant Art Gallery for an entry in my #FlashFictionMonth2021 offerings.

This scene may (most likely, there is some I'd like to add that would not fit in the word count) get rewritten, moved, or dropped when preparing the webnovel version for the print version.

Interested in helping support the free version of this book and other projects? Visit http://www.patreon.com/Amehana

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 50
Chapter 20
The Master Tome
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Kirsty found herself emerging into a library once through the passage. She looked around the dimness, filled with the scent of old scrolls. How the paper, papyri, and parchment could survive underwater she wasn’t sure. On the same note, she could no longer tell if she were underwater or not. She moved a hand experimentally through the atmosphere surrounding her and noted the thickness and the thinness moving her fur. Was it both at once somehow? How?

With a flick of her tail she had the unsettling feeling of both legs and tail working at once, pulling her attention even thinner than it was. Ironically this also seemed to sharpen her attention to this point in time she experienced, lurching her stomach.

Her attention settled on a very large tome in the middle of the room that seemed to be made of a combination of all modes of inscription, shifting back and forth as it pleased, including seaweed paper and even stone tablets. It shifted slower under her gaze, yet not staying in any one form long. Refusing to, as if it were itself alive and cognizant of her intruding gaze.

Kirsty made her way toward the tome, drawn by the placement. As soon as she came in front of it a form solidified and looked disturbingly familiar. The brown fur of Father Ronan’s tome waited for her touch. This was clearly a different section of his sundered pelt as the markings were all wrong compared to the one from Caer Carrick’s library, but somehow she knew it was his all the same. Carefully she opened what she had come to know as “The Book of Seals.” Instead of the familiar yellowed parchment paper on land this paper was made of bleached seaweed.

“Father Ronan?” she asked softly “What are you doing here?”

“I am and I am not here, Child.” The familiar text spread across the blank page. “I also am not alone. As to what I am doing here, it is the same as I always have been. Chronicling. Sharing. Teaching. Waiting.”

“Several of us are here, not just someone of your species, Priestess.” Another hand spread across the page.

“At least one representative of each major sea species. Perhaps at some point others will join us when they feel ready,” a third and far more crabbed script scrabbled across the page.

“How?”

“We give part of ourselves. I, as you figured out already, gave my skin back to Her. This is the Master Tome. What you found in the library is another copy of my volume of the ‘Pearls of Sea and Stone,’ but currently only is keyed to what is needed for you since it originally went to Caer Carrick from my abbey. There are other copies bearing my fur, as I know you’ve already intuited.”

“Could I learn what I need to know about all of the species?” Kirsty leaned in, her fingers stroking hungrily at the edges. “And what about the herbology and lost potion secrets?”

“In theory.” All three wrote to her at once. “And over time. Not today though. You won’t have much time here.”

Kirsty looked around in confusion. Things looked like they should for a library. It was only then that she felt an oily aftertaste, felt it seeping into her fur and allowing frigid sullied water access to her skin. The room shifted and darkened. Books gave way to statues and the ghost of a drill bit lanced the floor and struck the heart of the sea. Screams of rage and fear filled the water and forms swam out from the city, her awareness filling the area in a moment as the point in time replayed itself.

A Triton reared in front of her between Man’s Lance and the Tome with shield and sword despite knowing such tools inadequate.

Time bent again. The city lay dead and quiet. Statues stood guarding the prize and waited around the Tome. The Tome waited, giant sized on a lectern while oil seeped and her mother’s blood still lingered in the water trying to overwrite and correct what had been done here. Kirsty’s eyes fell on the wounded skin of the planet, Mara’s waters seeping down into the elder sister as much as the oil seeped up, a mingling of blood. Her hand went to the broken metal.

“I need to find someone that can cap this right. I’m a water witch, not someone that knows how to make a bit of metal into a plug.”

“That you can do later back in the human realm. This tome needs moved. Mara bids it be you.” The statues’ gaze bored into Kirsty. The samebito regarded her with his shark eyes. “We will not be able to hold a filter much longer, and you were expected quite some time ago.”

Kirsty’s gaze went to the flat gaze of the samebito statue. The disapproval there struck deep. She was well aware that she was flailing about and had most likely made many mistakes in this process, and likely failing her tests. The added weight sank her heart. “Where to?” She struggled to keep strength in her voice. Somehow she could not abide the idea of seeming weak to the essences of the many other mer races.

“Mother Mara will guide you if you seek her.” His jaw set.

An octopus mer raised a tentacle and his weapon more to press against man’s influence. “You are already seeking her, make no more side trips. Be resolute. Take the book and go.”

Turning her eyes back to the Master Tome she discovered it had already closed. The size daunted her but she lifted it anyway to see if she could lift it, expecting it to remain in the lectern due to how heavy it had to be. To her surprise it came easily and even shrank to a size she could easily fit into her sporran. Kirsty slipped it in and surveyed the room. Her mother’s blood still struggled to correct the ocean around them.

“It’s not enough. There’s too much.” Her stomach turned again. Her eyes fell on a sharp rise in the middle of the lectern. Had it been there beneath the Master Tome the entire time? Her hand reached for the edge. A force drew her palm to rest lightly. A small incision, a little blood, a small offering of life force to preserve what could be saved. A promise to return.

Kirsty withdrew her palm and clenched her hand. A breath later she felt the planetary matrix activate, the lighting of the statues’ eyes and the crystals formerly unseen. A passage of light opened around her and a song wove somewhere at the end, the new location. Her flippers propelled her forward into the surf unbidden.

The room went dark again and the filter the statues held grew smaller, holding as best they could for physical care and for the one tasked with their own transport to eventually come.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

Donate Here via Paypal

Or you can become a monthly patron through Patreon!

Would you rather

at Ko-fi.com?

Crossposts: https://rainstardragon.livejournal.com/1194597.html

This was first pushed to my Patreon feed where it was visible to Patrons over two months early in draft format.

This scene may get rewritten, moved, or dropped when preparing the webnovel version for the print version. It does touch more on distant past connections between the families of David and Kirsty.

Interested in helping support the free version of this book and other projects? Visit http://www.patreon.com/Amehana

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 49
Chapter 19
Within the Box of Souls
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Kirsty awoke on a stone slab in near darkness. It took a moment to get her bearings. Bubbles floated lazily away from her face, but her vision was too unfocused still to see, only feel. Finally she figured out which way was relatively up by rising and dangling her legs, then tail, then legs again off the side of the slab. The water around her pulsed and pulled with a familiar current, neither warm nor cold. The paste had worn off long ago, of this she was certain. She should be human, yet even when her form wavered back she breathed the thick water.
Kirsty rubbed in her hand where Ven’thrith had earlier embedded his boon. Perhaps it was this that kept her from drowning.
Why was the water so thick? Why did it feel good in her lungs?
Who was she? Really?
Kirsty recalled herself, her life on land. She recalled other times that she faced this same question, both within that life, this current quest, and yet before she had also faced this question. Dimly she was aware of the business of life going on around her in another time and place, blue eyes looking into her own dark with concern. As tempting as those eyes were and the quiet voice she pushed them away.
Before what though? Life?
His voice floated to her, and the sensation of his hand around hers. The press of linen on her back and the bitterness of something forced between her lips. Kirsty had to fight to stay where she was, to finish this and stay in this time. Then came the feel of the summer sea as she sank below it. Whatever happened to her between that school day and the day she really left the land on her quest did not matter, no matter how snarled time now was. She was HERE.
What was she?
The answer came to her. She was the song and the keeper of it, a part of the sea. She was the wave and the wind, and the mist that shrouded the land beyond the sea. She was part of the dance of moon and tide, and the dance of the rivers through the forests. Yet, she was herself, single, small, none of those things at the same time that she was them.
She was seal, she was fish, she was human, and her body of the line of Kay wedded with the blood of the Marainion. She bore the blood of Mara and the Lady. More importantly, she was alive and what she was didn’t matter, no matter what anyone else thought or imposed on her.
Kirsty pulled at herself, gathered herself. She found a bit trapped under the Sorting Stone at the threshold of Caer Carrick, and little bits all along the way of the path she’d swam since the decision to take up the Serpent’s Solution to speed time for herself. Her eyes looked inward and backward observing the tangled mess she’d made of this quest to return to herself from that point onward. The net of her life she was supposed to be weaving had some rather interesting holes because of that choice which would take a few years after this to fix… should she get rebirthed with her skin.
If not… well, her physical body was probably drowned on the sea floor somewhere, there was going to be a sad werewolf up on land, Da was probably never going to recover, and she was going to be stuck in a stone box as a pelt until she was born elsewhen. Who knew what would happen to Byron after he finally died. She’d never paused to consider what would happen to Marsali and Byron if whatever remained of her ancestor’s skin was never located without a descendant.
She snorted and grimaced at the ridiculous musings.
Kirsty pushed up off the tab. For now, she would be selkie. She came for her skin and she would find that skin and bring it with her even if it was the last thing that she did. The darkness around her began to lift, as if somewhere some sort of sun was beginning to rise. What sort of sun could rise below the waves though, and much less within a stone walled room? Walls slowly came into view, somehow never parallel, neither square nor oblong.
Was this Mara’s stone box of souls?
Those walls seemed to close in. The light continued growing. Looking down and taking a deep breath to push back what had to be an illusion she discovered that the light was coming from herself. When she looked up again there was a clear door with a passage to what she hoped wasn’t just more maze. Kirsty felt the walls constrict, and then relax.
She shuddered. It was another of those life points, clearly.
With no where to go but forward she swam for the door as fast as she could and prayed that the passage was not going to close on her.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

Donate Here via Paypal

Or you can become a monthly patron through Patreon!

Would you rather

at Ko-fi.com?

Crossposts: https://rainstardragon.livejournal.com/1189509.html

This was first pushed to my Patreon feed where it was visible to Patrons over two months early in draft format.

Involvement of Amehana and Vadise as they are for Dragon Shaman is due to the short story "Dreamweaver" wherein the threads of Justin and Amehana were first tangled.

This scene may get rewritten, moved, or dropped when preparing the webnovel version for the print version. It does touch more on distant past connections between the families of David and Kirsty.

Interested in helping support the free version of this book and other projects? Visit http://www.patreon.com/Amehana

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 48
Chapter 18
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

“I place her in your charge. The wounds came as a result of man, you carry some of their blood, thus it is my hope that you can begin her healing.” The young aspect of Mara waited for Justin to release his hold on the unconscious Kirsty, then gently placed Etain into her son’s arms. “You bear her blood, it will be well, though long.”
The young aspect frowned as she looked on them, her eyes glazing as information exchanged between herself and her elder self. The assimilation process already begun that aspect grew less and less substantial as she dematerialized.
“You’ll have to make sure your mother gets back to the human world safely, and to be safe yourself. There are two beings seeking for her that although they are on her side for now they are not on yours. Mimir will see you a threat, and like this your own father will not recognize you.” The elder Mara’s voice fell soft and sorrowful. “Perhaps one day he will, if your efforts are successful.”
Justin held his mother carefully and inspected the delicate, frail creature. Etain was already slipping back into sleep herself and had her hand curled in some of the random seaweed and tangles that always clung to him. “But she did.”
“Mothers usually do, that’s part of the curse.” Mara cast a glare at the clergy still in the room that tried to find some sort of dignity. At her glare they slipped out the doors, seeing the darkening brought on by their reliance on ritual and eavesdropping. “And here so near where souls and skins are granted, the veil cannot hide the essence from the gateway.”
“What do you mean?” Justin turned his head to the side and regarded the deity.
As Amehana and Vadise found their way home, facilitated by the passage between her mirror and the doors, Mara gestured to the gazing shell. Justin very carefully rose, still holding Etain, and peered curiously in. Rainbow hued liquid, heavier and stranger than the seawater that surrounded them, rippled and flowed with its own currents before forming another form of mirror. From within a young man, pale and healthy, peered back at him from deep sea-blue eyes beneath teak colored hair. There, not a trace of the taint that disfigured and overshadowed him marred him. In that pool Etain’s face mixed with another that he knew from the times he spent around Seal Point. A younger, thinner version of Finnol bore up under its own cares.
“Remember, we’ve known you before you were even pupped.” Mara’s smile was gentle, though with its own menace.
“Even stolen, you are yet ours.” The fragmented aspect of the Lady agreed, visibly trying to reconnect with her greater whole and still unable to find her main self. She sighed and hugged herself.
“Peace, sister. Ride our priestess. When she is returned thus so shall you.”
“I would stay to see the pup placed in the box for the transformation.”
“And so you shall, but not to see her emerge.” Ven’thrith soothed. “Time has been messed with on her and horribly tangled, who knows what staying that long would wreak on you, on my Acolyte, or on the Priestess.”
Mara gently swept up Kirsty and carried her across the chamber. Space moved around the occupants and though the others did not move they too were all swept through and behind the veils that curtained off the stone box. Though it was as small as a jewel cask at first it grew swiftly large enough to accommodate even the largest man or largest seal. Mara fed Kirsty to the sarcophagus, then closed the lid with more than a flash of fang.
“The child dies and the woman live so long as she has the strength to rise.” Mara’s voice was a literal purr now, filling the hall in unseen dimensions. For a moment Justin saw primordial creatures swim through the room and be absorbed into the shark goddess, now no longer hiding her true form from him. Though she was unhidden his own mind still filtered her, and the Megalodon gazed at him with the eye of life and death that few of her priests, and usually only those drawn to the Hunt, ever Saw.
Justin grimaced. “What happens if she dies in there? That’s my sister.”
“Then she is in the box to be reborn again at some other point, just as any of you are whether you earn the right to have your skin with you or not. It would sorrow me, and put a very large dent in my hopes and plans, but she would be Home.” The eye pinned him. “In my long experience those of your blood are stubborn and do not die easily. A little pocket dimension box won’t harm her.”
“No,” broke in Ven’thrith, “It’s the narwals that might. They’ve kept some of your uncles in the past. She’ll be out at some point though I’m sure.”
“Why are you so sure?” Justin kept from spitting, but only barely, well aware that if he offended right now he would put not only his life but that of his mother on the line before the Old Ones. “Is she a Chosen or something?”
“Aren’t you all?” Ven’thrith’s voice was far milder than expected. “We need our entertainment and we have our favorites, but you Mortals also have a habit of Choosing yourselves.” He cocked his head, listening to something Beyond Justin’s ears. “Seems someone feels a change.”
Caught in the quantum entanglement caused by a mischief laden and halfway well-intentioned snake, in the medical wing of Cair Carrick David wiped Kirsty’s glistening forehead with a moist washcloth and squeezed her hand during his visit. At another point in time, in what was his future David looked up from his own quest toward the sea beneath the moon and howled, disturbed by the lessening of the tides hitherto unnoticed in his veins.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

Donate Here via Paypal

Or you can become a monthly patron through Patreon!

Would you rather

at Ko-fi.com?

Crossposts: https://rainstardragon.livejournal.com/1189270.html

This was first pushed to my Patreon feed where it was visible to Patrons 3 days early.

I think that this installment wraps up chapter 17 of Selkies' Skins: Temple and Skinquest (chapter 8 of section 2). Chapter 18 will be "into the box." Section 3 will follow the last leg of Kirsty's journey to set hands on her skin and return (thus, "Emergence" is the theme). Justin will be needing to get Etain to the surface and human world now that she's this side again... and we still have Mimir and Finnol, the Sea Witch's soul, and the reunion of Etain and Finnol. I am still undecided as to how much of Mimir/Finnol/ship/Etain/Justin interaction to include in book two, and how much of that should rightly go into Selkies' Skins: Blood, Fin, and Fur.

Involvement of Amehana and Vadise as they are for Dragon Shaman is due to the short story "Dreamweaver" wherein the threads of Justin and Amehana were first tangled.

This scene may get rewritten, moved, or dropped when preparing the webnovel version for the print version. It does touch more on distant past connections between the families of David and Kirsty.

Interested in helping support the free version of this book and other projects? Visit http://www.patreon.com/Amehana

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 47
Chapter 17 (part 6)
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Vadise watched the proceedings over Amehana’s shoulder. “I don’t suppose anyone can explain to me what just happened?”

A foot fell on the stone floor, intentionally loudly instead of its accustomed silent tread.

“They rent the veil, temporarily. This is the culmination of a hunt, and the prey a woman trapped between life and death. She carries it within her still though. I wonder how kind and wise that truly was.” Herne stepped from the shadows and nodded to the elder goddesses. “They are not always known for kindness nor wiseness though. An insane, though intriguing, endeavor that hasn’t been attempted since the worlds grew farther apart and certain humans stole things from our kind.”

Mara blushed and looked uncomfortably away under his gaze. “I keep what is mine.”

“I can expect no less of the sea, can I? This isn’t your first insane wild hunt.” Herne’s star-gaze moved then to Ven’thrith and nodded. “I can’t control the counsel you keep with my sibling, either.”

Ven’thrith grunted and pressed his lips together, firmly in his masculine aspect under the accusation that burned through his layers. “I could think of no other way.”

Herne made a noncommittal sound, the low grumble of a stag choosing between patches of unsatisfactory withered grass in midwinter, then turned from his brethren to regard the selkie maid, a lesser generation deity and her mate, and the Finman fighting his own curse before continuing his reprimand. “At least you had the sense to call in a pair that already have made similar journeys of their own to help the mortals. This could have gone very differently for all of us and you might have lost more than you intended to save. Remember this.”

“You’re only sore because certain descendants of Kay and Marrok who have your attention would no longer be living out their parts in the hunter’s lay.” Ven’thrith accused.

“It would interfere with my entertainment, with future plans, and in the supply line of a particular island at this time, yes.” Herne crouched and inspected Kirsty closer, lifting her chin and ignoring the bristling of Justin, Amehana, and Vadise at his proximity.

Though still unconscious Kirsty’s eyes opened and found his face, and she turned toward him, nostrils flaring wide as she caught traces of David on his deity. Her tenuous seat in her body stabilized and strengthened as her energy reached back unafraid. Determination set her face.

“Yes, he’s looking forward to sharing news too. Strange child.” Herne grunted and nodded in reply to the strange throat sound she made. Kirsty’s eyes slipped back closed to rest and a smile quirked her lip.

He rose, and paid no attention to the priests and priestesses still gawping at him, who were unaccustomed to a being of shadows, fur, antler, exhilaration, terror, bloodlust, the baying of Hounds and Horns, fang, and claw that were so much greater in deadliness than the cruel ferocity of she that fed as the primordial shark. As he strode back into the shadows to partake in another of the many hunts always tugging his attention he cast behind him a pair of coins that landed between the ears of the dragon and fox, and a charm of feather and bead that stuck in Justin’s hair. “My vote is that she’s done more than enough to get her skin although I’m looking forward to how she handles the chamber when she finally gets there. Hopefully my favorite of them has been returned by now. This is what I most wish to see.”

Vadise grunted after the Hunter departed, taking the coin from between his ears and examining it. “Wolves… Are we done here?” Amehana did the same curiously and looked at him, tilting her head and nibbling her lower lip.

Ven’thrith nodded. “I think so, thank you for helping. I’m sorry that you got pulled into this, and without my asking if you’d both mind. And Amehana no Hoshi is one of the lad’s tutelaries.”

“I probably wouldn’t have agreed if you’d asked, and I’d have tried to dissuade Ame if you’d gone to her, Tsukiyomi.” Vadise sighed and put his coin in a hidden pocket.

“You definitely would have tried, and honestly I don’t think I’d have helped with this if I hadn’t received a direct summons.” Amehana agreed. “I feel sick. I try to avoid brushes with death of any sort, thank you. I still freeze at important moments.” The dragon frowned and reined her babbles in, “What is that poor woman infected with?”

“It would be a long explanation, and it would not sit well with you having been human several times yourself, my friend.” Ven’thith patted her head then quickly stepped away before her mate could take further umbridge.

“Go rest child. Thank you both for your service.”

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

Donate Here via Paypal

Or you can become a monthly patron through Patreon!

Would you rather

at Ko-fi.com?

Crossposts: https://rainstardragon.livejournal.com/1187042.html

This was first pushed to my Patreon feed where it was visible to Patrons 12 days early.

I have decided that the vignette of Vadise and Amehana I posted long ago will remain in the manuscript.

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 46
Chapter 17 (part 5)
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Amehana and Vadise stood outside the closed doors, a high tone filling both their ears. Their sudden arrival surprised the guards, who lowered spears at the pair. Vadise pushed Amehana behind him as he drew his katana. The doors glowed in response to Amehana’s alarm and began to screech at the affront to their enchanter, swiftly taking on their proper color with her presence.

“Well, I was right about the location. I didn’t see a thing about spears at the doors.” Amehana looked around him as Vadise and the guards sized each other up.

“Who are you and how are you here?” Their clipped tones dropped like weights.

“This is my mate, Amehana Arashi. I’m Vadise.” His tone insinuated how he’d not let anything harm her.

“The gates called me.” She added simply gesturing. “And now you’ve angered them.”

“Lies. They’ve made noise the entire time we’ve been on shift.” The elder of the pair rebutted.

“Then you are deaf, or not got a drop of dragon’s blood in you.” She slipped around her mate and marched between the surprised guards to kiss the doors, soothing them. They reacted quickly, trying to prevent her from reaching the doors, but met with the ground before they could touch her.

They gave a gentle chime as her lips met the surface of the doors and audibly unlocked. Vadise sputtered. “They could have killed you!”

“You wouldn’t have let them dear.” Amehana smiled at him and stepped back. “I suggest you move boys. They’ll spring open and move you themselves otherwise. Enchanted doors really don’t like sharp things pointed at the one who enspelled them, though my mate’s dislike is much more.”

The pair scrambled away as the doors opened, Vadise putting away his sword and taking Amehana’s hand. He squeezed, silently displaying his continued displeasure and worry. She squeezed back and looked him in the eye. “And you were worried I didn’t need you.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. She swatted lightly with her tail as she pulled him into the room with her, the doors closing again before the guards could get their senses back enough from the confusion the doors had been casting on them.

The pair made their way through the room, Vadise keeping his hand near his sword and his grip on Amehana’s hand, he relaxed when the occupants of the next room beyond did not challenge, but nodded instead.

“You called Mara-okamisama?”

“You are late. I’m glad you brought a minder.” Mara gestured the pair over to her small group.

Vadise’s eyes narrowed when he saw Justin, and grunted.

“I … had some important self care that could not be put off.”

“I am glad you did come, both of you.” Mara looked the fox over. “He suits you. You’ll need him.”

Amehana blushed, but kneeled behind Justin where she was pointed. Mara likewise directed Vadise to sit with her. He locked his arms around Amehana, managing to get her in his lap, decidedly unhappy that yet again there was that boy… and that she was touching him. She twined her tail around his and squeezed, and he relaxed somewhat.

“Your wife WILL jolt when she helps force the gate so they can be pulled back here. Be prepared.” Mara whispered into his ear. “I’m sure you smell her unease. She’s not done this before at this extent, but she has to learn and I do need her element.”

He nodded and tightened his grip with thoughts of the cracking mirror back home. He could feel his mate wrapping herself around him and the way she stuffed the shivers down. Likewise he latched onto her as best he could and felt her stretching her energy to feel the barrier.

“Amehana, at my command I will need you to channel the storm and strike the directional lock.”

Amehana nodded, glancing at the young ones bridging the gap. Still feeling around, she eventually found it and then worked her will into the storm between the worlds. She smoothed what she could and ignored the temptation to explore it. She could do that later now that she was aware of this shard and could find it again at her leisure… with her mate to keep an eye on her in case of mistakes.

Justin kept his grip on Kirsty while his tutor and her mate settled behind him, well aware of the fox’s displeasure. He tried not to take it personally, knowing that if he ever were lucky enough to have a mate of his own he would be just as protective. It was harder and harder to hold onto Kirsty’s spirit with how far she ranged. The scent of blood filled his nose and he glanced down where a scrape had opened in her side.

Amehana and Vadise also looked, the fox tightening his grip on the dragon. Justin cursed under his breath. “Come on…”

Something in the storm changed a few moments after and the scent of ozone filled the room. Amehana’s connection to the storm strengthened, static running over her form and that of her mate through their connection.

“NOW! PULL THEM THROUGH!” Mara’s scream in the chamber echoed and crashed, a whip crack driving stopped time forward again. On the surface the seas roiled and foamed.

Amehana gathered the force and channeled it where sea, sky, and gate met, striking the key of blood in the lock to activate it. Her roar announced the breach as pain lanced through her body, but the energy of the storm also filled the crack that was forming in her soul and her mirror as quickly as it was spreading. Instinctively she held the gate open, sensing the more major deities also reaching to hold it open with her. There was no time for relief. While holding it open she had to resist the pull on her own soul into that realm between realms.

Justin reached with his soul and pulled on his sister, panting with effort and instantly covered in sweat. The added soul weight of his mother added another strain. He felt the strength of others with him, added to his, the priests and priestesses assisting.

One beat. Two. Three.

A ripping sound, the tearing of a veil.

The barking of a young white seal as she humped her way onto the shore, fought the pull of the waves. Then back into her body. She convulsed and buried her teeth in him. Justin yelped but did not pull away.

Another flash of lightning and clash of thunder. The deities released the gate which slammed shut. Mara’s young aspect stood just their side of where the gate had been clasping a pale Etain to her, then sank to her knees. Ven’thrith kneeled next to her, rocked them both gently, and pulled them both into a tight embrace as the young aspect sobbed quietly.

The scrap of the Lady that had clung to Kirsty separated, stood visible and looked around tiredly. Weakly she tousled Justin’s hair and nodded at Amehana and Vadise.

The elder aspect of Mara clutched at the scrap and crushed her with a cry. “Another piece of you home.”

Amehana let go of Justin and leaned back into Vadise, shaking. She turned around in his lap and buried her face in him as the lightning still traveled in her body. He stroked her back and tried to ground her as well as he could. “It was so… old…” He kissed her cheek and held her until the trembling stopped and she had processed the leftovers.

“I want… my children…” Etain’s voice cut through the room despite it’s weakness. Her hand lifted toward Justin and Kirsty as her eyes opened.

Ven’thrith released them and Mara’s young aspect carried the selkie priestess to the pair. Etain shakily touched each in turn, lingering longer on Justin and looking into his eyes. She smiled.

“Stop biting, Kirsty.” In her exhaustion Kirsty still heard, and released.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

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This is several installments together's worth to catch up on missed time. This was first pushed to my Patreon feed where it was visible to Patrons 3 days early.

I have decided that the vignette of Vadise and Amehana I posted long ago will remain in the manuscript. I've also finished the next two installments, which looks like they also should be part of chapter 17. At least I don't think this part got posted. I know today's didn't.

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 45
Chapter 17 (part 4)
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

The veil caught on Kirsty as she broke through and its webby tatters wrapped around her. A cord slowed her frantic pace.

Behind her there were ripples but she did not have the time to pay attention. The sea called her, sharp and strong like Byron’s shouts when finding her in places she shouldn’t have been as a pup. Across the beach and into the waves she humped for her very soul to escape the ripping pain. Another ripple pressed through behind her and then she was in the wash. A few more humping jumps and the cold sea crashed over her and the receding waves helped her slip within the surging skirt. The call seemed to come from somewhere beyond the silver road that streamed across the sea from the foot of the moon.

So, she followed.

So long as she stayed on the path she could hear a silver cool tune. Lilting and dancing it seemed both to guide her forward and backward at once. She tried not to think about it too much. Time had long since given up reason on this quest and it was probably a distraction with her luck. It was too strong not to follow though, and she had the nagging sense that if she did not she would lose something. The current did not always make it easy to stay on the lighted path but she knew, somehow, that she had to in order to get to where she needed to go.

She swam.

At some point the current stopped fighting her. The fact that it now pulled her somehow was more frightening than having had to fight to make any headway previously. The water was hungry and now she fought to stay on the path not to keep from getting lost, but to avoid the rocks and mouths she could not see but could feel.

The taste of the water changed next. It was no longer icy and clear as it had been a moment before, nor did it hold the sand her DNA memories whispered about storms kicking up. It was saltier, felt thicker, yet the color remained the same. The tide grew heavier and eventually the froth spoke of rocks much closer to the surface. The path of the moon continued on through the froth, deceptively still where it lay over the shifting sea.

The moonlight brightened. “Left! Go left!”

Kirsty obeyed the voice, one that had spoken in her blood before. A thin form more spray and mist than anything physical leaped from rock to rock and directed stray beams onto the hidden dangers. A wave cast her on top of one, and ethereal hands disentangled her.

“Lady? How did you get here?” Kirsty coughed and clamped a fin to her side, afraid to look and see how much red was probably leaking.

“I’ve been here. Have I been lost? I suppose I must have been, so I guess I’m found now. Sister sent you with the key I hope or we’re both stuck here.”

A wave washed up and thoroughly soaked Kirsty, setting fire to the scrape on her side.

“Key?”

“Our key, our blood. I can’t bleed like this.” The mist woman absorbed a little of the blood and brought it to her lips thoughtfully. “Yes, you carry it. We can get home. There’s another here we need to take too. She has it, but is too weak right now to open the gate from this side. Sister is with her.” Her voice lost the bubblyness to it. “I don’t think she can see me. I’ll have to ride on you.”

Kirsty grimaced. “Where’s the gate and how much blood am I going to need to open it? I’m only little like this so I don’t have oodles of it.”

“The gate is there.” She pointed further, two where two larger rocks tore sea and sky, and a smaller island of a rock between. “I don’t know how much. I just know I’ve been here a very long time, then she came in one of the storms, and now you are here..” The Lady frowned. “I have my suspicions I’m not all of me. I hope it won’t take much.”

“Right then. If you’re to ride me you will have to help me.”

The goddess slipped into the tiny furry form and surrounded Kirsty with a pale blue glow. Together they slipped back into the sea and made their way to the gate. At the end of the light lane they hauled themselves onto the sharp rock. Her mother’s moan filled her ears.

Kirsty let out a cry and a young Mara knelt down with Etain. Kirsty bared her teeth at the shark goddess, smelling the death clinging to and working through her mother, but also through Mara herself. She tried to shove the distaste away and pressed her nose into her mother.

Etain weakly stroked her pup, her scabbed palm passing over where Kirsty’s scrape was and mingling the blood. The Lady and Mara both, unaware the other was doing so, reached part of themselves into the water to transfer the blood. The gate opened and they pressed through with their charges.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

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This is several installments together's worth to catch up on missed time. This was first pushed to my Patreon feed where it was visible to Patrons 6 days early.

Quick Glossary

Samebito- Shark person, from Japan

Hir- NOT a typo. Used here for inbetween or genderfluid, non gender binary. The other option currently in use that I have seen among those writing or living such states is Xir. They and we are not suitable for this instance as most people see gender not as a continuum but two conflicting states, and do not separate gender from physical sex. I chose to make sure that one deity had several states because of conflicting reports on gender/sex of deities that do exist in mythology.

I believe that I remembered to make note of everything that required a glossary notation for this installment. If I did not please feel free to let me know.

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 43
Chapter 17 (part 2)
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

While the deities silently conferred, keeping the mortals out of whatever they were Speaking to each other, the High Priestess and Lore Keeper carefully inspected the Finman under Mara’s Hand. The gesture was not lost on her. This same gesture had been used with each of them at times, and she could remember the first time of feeling that hand on her own shoulder. How had he been able to penetrate so far though? He had been quite far in before Ven’thrith had collected the lad. Certain lines evoked the girl currently beneath the Moon’s spell, others reminded her of Etain, or the less often seen but always working for their good Finnol. Was he of the Blood? Was that how he won into the Labyrinth?

Could he be the beginning of a cure for one of the plagues they fought?

Too many questions, and several other eyes that glared with distrust and envy. Was the Taint spreading?

The eyes of both Deities fell on her, captured her own eyes. She fought not to look Ven’thrith in the eye and failed. Galaxies spun and shook her core. The shifting waves of Mara’s were far less alien to her. What would they want when they spoke?

Time passed. Mara broke the spell that held her attendants and their hearts still. “I hope this crazy plan of yours works, leanbh.”

“It may be our only opportunity to try.”

Justin looked up. Ven’thrith looked down at the boy, observing the play in his eyes and the way he still cautiously hovered over his younger sister. He smiled in what he hoped was a soothing fashion, since whenever he smiled others never really reacted the way he intended. Justin smiled back dimly before his eyes flicked back to Mara.

“Try what, my Lady, my Lord?” The High Priestess ventured quietly, careful not to cut in to give offense and yet to demonstrate she was ready for their bidding. “What would you have us do?”

Mara looked at her High Priestess and smiled sadly. “Prepare the Veiled Chamber and the Stone of Souls in the same room. We will then need not only access to your energy but those of the acolytes as well. I want the city’s matrix activated to facilitate the flow. Someone will retrieve my Spear from Raechel with all swiftness.”

“Your Will be done, Lady.” The High Priestess bowed, robes flowing, then led the way herself to ready the chamber. Her companions followed after in rank, save for one that went to follow the guards.

Mara crouched down after they had left and she was alone with the Moon Lord, the unconscious Kirsty, and Justin. Her fingers brushed Kirsty’s cheek gently as she moved a lock of hair back into place. “You’ve never been able to take the easy route, Kirsty. Maybe it is just as well. I hope that you can hear me. We need you to find your mother from this side of the Veil, soon.”

Kirsty’s face darkened, and she bit her lip slightly. Other than that she still seemed asleep.

“I am glad that it is unlikely you will remember this.” Mara pressed a kiss her her forehead fondly, smiling gently before standing back up. She then leveled a finger at Justin’s nose, and his eyes crossed watching where it went though he did not flinch. Her smile widened. “You are not to tell anyone I have a soft side without my approval.”

“Yes Lady.” Justin’s eyes uncrossed as he looked at her instead. He tried not to flinch at the pulsing warmth emanating from that digit and spreading into his bones.

“Good. You’re not to tell her any of this nor to help her to remember either, should at some point you get to be on speaking terms with her, unless I or Ven’thrith in any of his forms has instructed you that it is safe.

“Yes Lady.” Justin nodded, skin and scale prickling at the ice in her voice.

Mara loomed over him, froth now coloring the edges of her skirts in wind whipped laces despite her surface placidity. “Good lad. Now before we go in I will warn you. Once we begin our undertaking there will be no leaving. You will be holding onto Kirsty’s shell. Ven’thrith will be taking her soul through with him. We do not really have time to wait for her trials to finish, and it will be easier to carry her soul before she gains her skin anyway.” She noted the flickers in his eyes. “No, you don’t have a choice, Acolyte.”

Justin nodded, curled his toes and tried to think of when exactly he gained feet again instead of tail.

The deity’s tone softened. “All you have to do is hold the shell and mind the cord. You share her blood, so the path written will be more likely to be unbroken.”

“I feel like this is something that music would help with, for some reason.” He frowned, making sure that he had a good grip on his sister when she gave the signal to pick her up.

Mara nodded. “It would help if you used your Voice, yes. You won’t be able to use your flute though while holding her. I would use your music by humming instead.”

His face wrinkled and furrowed in reply.

The deity shook her head.

One of her robed priestesses emerged from the seaweed curtain and beckoned with a bow. At last the room was ready. Mara nodded and rose while another priestess emerged. They held the curtain open as Justin rose and gathered Kirsty up. Mara opened her senses and cast her nets wide as the men followed her into the chamber. The veil she passed into in the room felt thin and silk sheer, transparent as water sheets over ice. The smell of her seas mingled with the seas of other planes and worlds. Here, incense from burners of spiraled shells now drifted their own veils of smoke to meet the Mists. Her High Priestess waited by the Stone of Souls, placed nearby the archway that held the Veil itself.

Whispers drifted from the arch and behind that billowing curtain. They always did, yet they were easier to hear tonight. It was as if several Samhains and Beltaines all coincided at once or if this world was once more new and yet undifferentiated from all the others. Mara nodded, but her High Priestess and attendants did not relax. How could they when both her stone box and that arch called to them? Her eyes fell on the empty space where another item at some other time would have been placed for her and Ven’thrith to Ascend a worthy soul to the stars.

“It is good.”

Her pronouncement rippled the room, pulling a tired smile from her face as peace settled over her. Trust was necessary.

At her gesture Justin laid Kirsty out on her side before the arch with the billowing curtains and laid next to her, securing her in his arms from behind. Ven’thrith and Mara stood to either side between Kirsty and the gate. Justin could not make out any meaning to the words they spoke, but after a bit he found a rhythm. Somewhere in the room the clergy chanted, their words too making no sense. There was only the ebb and flow and the pull from the archway and strange stone box beside it.

The room faded. Soon he saw through the arch, the veil open to him. The moon laid a silver path over the trackless sea that heaved and danced beneath the fingers of the wind that always searched. Slowly he felts like the arch was pulling him and the weight of the girl in his arms grew heavier. She too began to glow as the waves sang and the priests at the edge of his hearing echoed the words woven beyond time.

There was a bark and a transparent white seal pup, somewhere between the worlds of teen and adult scooted and humped her way along the silver path that bled from stone to water trailing glowing cords behind her back to the very human body he held. A figure that flickered between seal and shark yet walked on two feet with a spear in one hand and a small silver cauldron in the other followed the tiny shape into the waves. A darkness passed before him and slipped between the pillars to that other world, causing the priestesses to momentarily lose the counterbalance to the song of the priests. Justin reached out with his voice and grabbed it up before the spellsong’s webbing could rip on the smooth floor. As he watched the darkness passed from a horned man with a great cloak, to the lope of a wolf, and then a fin cutting the night just to one side of the path. He sighed when the priestesses assumed more of the weight, letting himself slide more into the center. He wrapped the gossamer around her form as best he could with only his voice and reached out to her mind, surprised at how familiar and similar this felt to bringing children down to the shores.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

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I thought that I was going to get this done in one installment. It did not happen. This went to Patreon first! This chapter finishes out at 2,834 words between both parts. It got delayed for here a bit due to my son's trip and a few unexpected things.

... Now I get to cover what went on with Ven'thrith and Justin, and how he found where in time to yank her from. I both look forward to writing how the deities use their powers and dread it.

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 41
Chapter 16 (part 2)
Opening the Way

His paws tattooed over stone and through the winding passages, seeking always the higher path in the labyrinthine twists which seemed to have come alive around them. The Temple was certainly awake, and changing now, reacting to the two warring priestesses within. Land battled with sea once more through them and Taranis dodged falling stone while Ciarán and Kirsty blocked or tried to deflect undodgeable debris out of his path. The pelt that was wrapped around and clinging to Ciarán did not bother trying to hide her head, the eyes glowing green and pupils wide, staring behind since the front was covered and keening whenever something threatened his flank in the rockfall.

As fast as he ran, as far as he ran, the great black dog never seemed to get beyond a certain point no matter how the scenery around them changed. All the while the water continued to rise behind them, and Salena’s skin roared a warning, the body the skin belonged to most likely collapsing unconscious wherever she was at the time with a cry if he remembered how some skins worked. Their heads all swiveled to look behind to see what she warned of.

The halls they had run through were no more. Behind was only a wide ragged cavern gaping as hungrily as if Cthulhu himself had awoken and risen from his dreaming slumber to claim their reality. Within this abyss swam the Kraken called Leviathan, phosphorescent green and reaching for them, screeing unearthly calls from his beak as he attempted to sing the song of all sea hags. Riding this creature was Raechel, Mara’s Spear strapped to her back since it would do nothing against Kirsten no matter how she bade it to. Taranis could only be glad it was not the actual Leviathan called Leviathan, as it would have probably found a way to batter the ground into breaking until it reached them. Sea creatures were not his forte. Especially ones that had green fire in their eyes like the Dark Priestess.

Why wasn’t the little priestess’s prior purifications taking hold as long as they should?

Raechel smirked, well seated on the kraken and tethered firmly within the energetic throne of the temple. Did every temple feel this way once the secret was activated and accessed? It laid itself more bare and trembling to her touch than Bethrise once had, eager to give her anything. She reveled in this feeling and the sensation of the Taint seeping from within her and into it. The girl clung to the back of the black beast, her human protector behind and attempting to shield her from view.

Playtime with the filthy land creatures was over.

Raechel envisioned the path they trod becoming steeper, rising beneath them. It became so. The granite and basalt gave way and smoothed to obsidian. Dark, cool, smooth as the mirrors that she could feel one by one turning their views toward her as she controlled this piece of reality. She ignored all of the eyes whether of deity or mortal. Let them witness her new birth. Crystal would have been another excellent choice, but too pure and far too open in both time and number of magical implements linked to it. It wouldn’t do to have too many openings to divert the force she wielded, not yet. Ice would have given the little child too much room to possibly worm out of her grasp. No, she herself was the most like Mara and it would be she, Raechel of the Tolltachonn lineage that claimed this place. Not some human-blooded filth. Especially from a branch of the Marainion that would have been in her own family tree had Marsali’s marriage to her ancestor happened. The idea of being a cousin to the brat twisted her lips, pointed her teeth.

The ripples completely melted, and it was smooth as artificial glass now. The erstwhile companions slid closer to her new pet’s reach. To facilitate this she steadily continued to tilt the path. Her pet would feed, even if he refused to eat his former master. There were other things she could do with him for interfering.

Kirsty clung and watched as they continued to slide, trembling. She wracked her brain for something that would save them. Striking at the kraken would only enrage it. This was so unlike the fears that Aunt Belara had trained her to face back in school, and this certainly was no ship. If only there was some way to stop their sliding and possibly buy a little time to come up with a plan.

David’s firesnake would be fabulous right now, though she was also glad she wasn’t having to protect his body while sliding down obsidian. That thought triggered other thoughts in her brain, and unearthed the memory of a prank someone had pulled in her common room that had been connected with a snake and sent a few students quite literally up a wall. Kirsty grasped for the charm out of the hazy memory, hoping that she remembered the word right and focusing more intently on the intent itself to make sure it was more likely to work.

“Triptogradore,” she growled, pressing her hands more firmly against the giant black dog between her legs. Her trembling increased. What if she got it wrong and merely rooted them to the spot? She herself had never done this spell before.

Her stomach twisted. The steady slide ceased. Her stomach tried to heave and she swallowed it down. The Hound’s ears flicked forward as his mouth dropped open. Half a heartbeat passed and the Hound’s feet began stepping up the near vertical incline as quickly as their combined weight would allow soon huffing deep in his chest. It wasn’t fast as they all would have liked, but it was progress.

Raechel roared, a call more fitting coming from the vocal cords of an enraged bull selkie than of a cow like herself, but she didn’t care. The kraken picked up a large rock then flung it toward them in the same moment. Raechel’s call should have knocked them off of the wall, but whatever spell the brat had used kept them stuck fast and they continued upward.

Kirsty saw the rock coming. Larger than others they had deflected before she did not think that even combined she and Lilitu would have enough strength left to deflect it far enough. If she estimated her maths correctly though, perhaps she could have a chance to let the others get away if she landed and sent a bolt downward? What would happen if she failed though? Yet, if she didn’t they were all going to get flattened.

Her eyes narrowed. She’d think about what came after if she had an after to think from. She shoved the Black Gate into Lilitu’s hands. If she ended up in the water instead this was an item she did NOT want Raechel to have access to. “Keep this safe. I need it later.” Kirsty was only aware of the first sentence she said, flinging herself out to the rock and willing herself to fly that shortening distance to the rock without the help of a broom. “I’m sorry. I love you,” she inwardly apologized to her parents, to David, Thomas, and Ally. Vibrations shook the invisible tethers between them all, she either a fly caught in life’s web or a spider scurrying along the threads.

Her spine flailed as she snaked through the air. Fur sprouted and stood on end, some of it projectile shedding and miraculously ending up in the kraken’s eyes and inhaled by the crazed fallen priestess. Legs sprawled and tried to swim, claws extended in her terror. Kirsty yowled her challenge and her fear-fueled battle cry right back at Raechel, even though the tiny cat form did not hold the same magic that she knew her selkie form did and would.

Unknown by the participants in the tapestry, hands beyond their layer of reality worked warp and weft. Intent on setting this pattern before their mirrors returned to unravel it they followed the warring destinies and zoomed shuttles after the lines of silver they saw. Pleasure thrilled through the owners of the hands as the monotony was broken for them by this little play of mortal life. Other eyes watched through time and space, and other hands began to reach out. The Weavers took into account the reaching of their old friend. They hand an Understanding with hir. Shi too had hir entertainments, and they always made the pattern more interesting, even if a bit more chaotic than first Seen.

Kirsty did not feel as her determination bore her further than it ordinarily would have. Her paws contacted the rock and she channeled every bit of energy she had left in her to send the rock downward, to fall short of the target. The rock rolled and her world rolled with it. She yowled again and cast her gaze about, looking for some ledge to attempt. Not for the first time she wished her land transformation could have been an owl.

“There!” and she leapt as best as she could for the spotted ledge. It was narrow, but the closest thing she could see. Maybe should would be able to find another ledge before it got smoothed out, unless she could manage to pull in enough to work the sticking spell on herself too.

Her feet landed and she immediately crouched, looking for another ledge. The ledge moved faster than she was ready for, sending her head into the wall as something struck her from behind. Her world reeled as something else grabbed her, and she found herself falling through the wall. What little was in her stomach still emptied itself as she transited, getting lost in Between.

A large hand. Being slammed roughly onto her back and forced back to her other form. Galaxies blazing into her eyes and taking her to the edge of madness, but only teetering at the edge, as if it was time to dance beneath the moon and shi would no longer be escaped to keep watch over a ball of fur. Screeches and bellows that were not her own and a sickening crack in another part of the in Between. The voices of the sea and moon. Then silence.

With a jolt she sat up, caught sight of several people and a chamber. Her eyes locked with those of Ven’thrith and she felt the squeeze of his hand on her shoulder lessen. The galaxies stopped their insane whirl and gentled into full moons.

Kirsty heaved a sigh of relief. She wasn’t dead. Guilt immediately consumed her. “Raechel? Where is she? Lilitu? That black Hound?”

“She will be dealt with.” A cool voice touched her ears.

Ven’thrith swelled like a storm over Mara’s waters. Kirsty could only nod as he sent her back under a cloud of real sleep.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

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Crossposts: https://rainstardragon.livejournal.com/1159468.html

"Leviathan" is a tentative name for this chapter now that I am in the part of my outline dealing with the Leviathan self-prompt. I still need to also work on Etain and Finnol's part in this book more. For me with this project a tricky part is dealing with the concurrent parts that all depend on each other and how the fabric of their realities shift due to events in the lives of others and the butterfly effects of things happening out of the scope of these books but within the other two series.

This is part three of the chapter. I am unsure how large this chapter will clock out at.

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 38
Chapter 15 (part 3)
Leviathan

Kirsty frowned, puzzling over the words, her eyes drawn once again to the spirit fire still flickering weakly about the sundered box and throne. “How though?”

Belial shifted about, trying surreptitiously to appease the softly grumbling skin that was unwrapping from his waist and attempting to wriggle her way up his back. The skin, however, made no such attempts at remaining hidden and managed to pop its head out of the back of his collar. Launching itself, the dark skin arched and dove for the box, slipping quickly before frantically questing fingers. “Salena! What are you doing?”

The skin landed in the box, her tail touching his foot as if seeking an anchor, but lolling itself open and flat within with satisfied rumbling purrs. Kirsty glared at Belial. Before she could confront him about having a selkie skin, nevermind that she could not remember hearing about one moving on its own, the spirit fires intensified. No longer contained to flickering over the throne and stone box they now covered the entire dais and island they stood on.

“You are not dead yet Salena, though if you don’t listen more often to the man that loves you it might come sooner than we all expect.” The voice rose every hair on Kirsty’s body. This was the voice she heard at home so often. The faint form that materialized in the water that trickled up from a hitherto unseen source to run into the pool again was also familiar, yet was as ancient looking at some of the ways the Wissefrau had presented herself. At her waist was the sword she knew of the Lady having, yet there was something broken about it, despite being unable to see the blade.

Salena’s skin, with a series of barks, grunts, and other sounds of seal speech, let them know precisely what was bothering her about her husband and the entire situation. Kirsty didn’t understand it, but he Belial’s lips pressed together and color rose.

He shook his head at Salena, then spoke to Kirsty. “The Black Gate has been in my family since The Lady and Astereth had their fateful falling out. He sired children before he lost, and one of his men ensured that we received it as birthright. The gate not only calls the Hounds of various Clans, but also can take pieces of the soul.”

Kirsty sighed, letting the issue of the skin go for now. “So, I might be able to use it to regain that piece of her.”

“In theory.”

The remnant of the Lady by now had crouched down to stroke the sealskin. “I would like to return to myself. I’ve been locked away here for so long. I have no idea how many other severed pieces have been sealed as I have. You should also look for this, it is here too. It’s how a piece of my power locked away.” She drew Meidh from the scabbard she wore. Though she held the hilt, there was a piece of the first third that was the only part that was seen.

They nodded, and Kirsty inspected the talisman, trying to figure out how to use it for that. No incantation leapt out at her in the filigree, nor in her mind. The neither the stories that she had from her Makay lineage nor the Marainion lineage ever gave any clues as to exactly how The Lady had been sundered. Nor had Mara been present, since that battle had been inland. Instead she tried for something less informed.

She focused her heart, where she would pull energy to for any intentional spell. She focused on the long need and drive of the generations before her to heal the deity that watched over them. Every ounce of longing and intention that she could pull from her line she called on and tried to channel through the gate. She linked it mentally with the vial of The Lady’s water that she carried with her in her pouch, and with what was from that deity that flowed in her own veins. She mentally tried to fold space and time, and felt the drain of it, reached out through the gate and tried to open it to give The Lady a path back to herself.

Once more the stone opened. Instead of being the black of night it turned to a lake blue, then to a sparkling deep blue as of a crystal lit underground spring. The Lady smiled wistfully, nodded at Kirsty, and then walked through. There was a whirling, Kirsty disoriented as if she’d ridden a broom into a waterspout, a rushing feel. Then the stone closed again.

With it, there was a boom that echoed the hallways and rippled through the waterways.

Belial paled. “Leviathan.”

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

Donate Here via Paypal

Or you can become a monthly patron through Patreon!

Crossposts: http://rainstardragon.livejournal.com/1154533.html

"Leviathan" is a tentative name for this chapter now that I am in the part of my outline dealing with the Leviathan self-prompt. I still need to also work on Etain and Finnol's part in this book more. For me with this project a tricky part is dealing with the concurrent parts that all depend on each other and how the fabric of their realities shift due to events in the lives of others and the butterfly effects of things happening out of the scope of these books but within the other two series.

This is part two of the chapter. I am unsure how large this chapter will clock out at.

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 37
Chapter 15 (part 2)
Leviathan

Kirsty blinked and narrowed her eyes. Belial’s brow furrowed. Both pressed their lips together but kept their eyes on the man of flame. The remnant gathered strength and a bit more solidity from some source, pressing nearer step by step. A dull thrum came from one of the vials in the pouch at her hip, pounding through her veins as the being came nearer. Subsonic, more felt than heard, several items in the cavern resonated with the note. Far above in the dim study with the agitated spirit entrapped in the crystal orb glazed and clouded selkie eyes cleared and focused, waking up and extending their senses.

In the middle of the spring a flickering of purple, green, and blue dimly ran along the stone dais rising from the saltwater and crackled along the sundered box. The box toned low, the subsonic hum echoing and concentrating there until reaching the range that Belial’s ears could hear.

His wife’s pelt shifted against him, a claw timidly scratching and poking. He ached to pat it, but dared not betray the pelt.

“No. I am not.”

He raked his brain for anything. The stone box kept attracting him. Perhaps, if they could get over the water and into the box, then he’d have the shielding for what he needed to do. The Black Gate rattled in its coffer, reacting to all of the energies, probably even beginning to open already. If he could use that, then that might solve the problem.

As Belial was processing, so too was Kirsty. Something weak and tired inside herself was half contemplating giving this being whatever was in the blasted box. However, she also knew that if he wanted it that it was a powerful object. A another part wondered, “Why give it something that it wanted? What if it was an item that might be useful to her. Raechel had wanted it it too, apparently, since that was how we met again.” This also was something this dark curling thing was rejecting as it tried to spread through her mind and heart. That part of her wanted it for itself. Other shards of her mind each sounded their own opinions, previous lives bubbling up from deep recesses, some in fear of what they felt in the boxes, others excited that they were so near.

The pulses, now echoing to her sensitive ears, both sent her off center and yet emboldened her. Shards and facets came together again in agreement. Who they had been and seen, what she could become after this moment, all that mattered was not giving in, tired or not. What felt as if an age of debate having flashed in the space of perhaps a breath. If she hadn’t apparently been skinned under her borrowed clothes her short hairs would be on end. Drums sounded within the box that Belial-Ciarán had taken from her after he rescued her. Steady, marching, dancing, raising in ferocity, a howl answered inside her. Racial and ancestral memories stirred, whether human or selkie she might not ever know should she live long enough to look back from this moment.

Words, male and female, sounded inside her head in a language even older than those she spoke. Though she did not know what they said she could feel the intensity, understand somewhat what had happened. Whatever was in that box held some key to the Lady’s loss of self, so too did this desecrated shrine portal.

The sisters had been driven out of what was once a home for them.

The light continued growing brighter, as if calling out. An idea glimmered, and as it gained strength so too did the light.

Kirsty pushed up, reached out. The chest passed back into her keeping before Belial-Ciarán could put up an adequate defense of it. Astereth stood between herself and the dais. Her other hand moved her sporran to where a male would traditionally wear it and the little selkie balled herself to have the Vials she carried and the chest together and hopefully shielded as she hurted at and then through him on her way. If she could get to the ancient seat, and the box hopefully whatever was inside would take care of the remnant and give her the piece of the Lady that was hidden here. Perhaps she could even find her way to her own time and place. She hated portals now, but if she could make a portal and make it work, she would be happy.

Belial reached for her as she burst out of his touch and protection. He saw where she was intending to go even as Astereth tried to pull more augmentation and tried to catch her. With a cursed call he followed.

Others answered him as he sent out the energy he had pulled from himself and out of his soul, the temperature dropping. The fear fed them, though it was not their normal fare and they vied for it with the guardian spirit here, but in return of his call some fed back what they could to the necromancer. Others tried to leap on Astereth, even if they only had the strength to distract for a moment, allowing the living to pass through their forms.

Salena’s sealskin shifted where he had it hidden, completing a circuit around his chest. He knew that if he saw her again he might lose an ear, she was still angry with him, but for now they worked together despite the literal and metaphoric distance between them.

Kirsty expected to be caught against something, to knock him aside or to be knocked aside. Unlike the living fire from David’s wand snake she felt no heat when passing through. There was only cold, bitter, bone deep, heart deadening cold, like spoiled disappointment and the odor of rotten cottage cheese, envious of something kept beyond reach. Then she was through, the odor and its taste clinging to her tongue like fur on a black skirt. Water beneath her feet and placing a water shield beneath them, her feet touching and then dashing over the surface like a skipped stone. Whirling around to face him again, kicking herself for exposing her back, she could hardly believe that had worked to get through or get her across. If she lived, if this continued to work, maybe she could experiment with that technique more later.

Furred figures swirled around Astereth when her eye found him, whirling spectral seal skins and human forms. Keens, barks, and bellows assaulted her ears, mostly female with the odd male here and there. Belial-Ciarán burst through Astereth, into the water. The water pulsed, sending a shock through the cavern, shaking the ground around them. Astereth laughed again at the sound of the splash, turning to pin Kirsty with a leer.

Astereth came to the very edge, rising on his toes. The wraiths continued to swirl around him, preventing him from trying to do anything to her from across the water. Somehow, Kirsty knew that for the Lilitu, falling into the water must be a bad thing. Why was Astereth not crossing?

Then Belial broke the water and flopped his gasping way onto the dais with her, water streaming everywhere and an odd moon pale glow outlining him, the same color as the selkie wraiths. “Open the box!” He coughed, then coughed more as water shot out of his mouth, some landing on her feet.

Kirsty grimaced; she opened the box as the drumming inside grew louder.

The temperature dropped even lower. Their breath steamed, the water smoked. Belial lurched up, still coughing a bit as if something squeezed his chest, not fully convinced all the water was out. She took out the amulet that lay inside, the drums stilling at her touch. A fossilized globule of the darkest, most hopeless night took the form of a cabochon set in a filigree triskele winding widdershins. Kirsty felt a great weight press on her shoulders, as if taking on the sifting of the entire world, older than she ever imagined in less than a heartbeat.

“We’ll have to open the Black Gate. Let me.” Belial wrapped around her, his wet seeping through and chilling her more than she already was. He hissed in her ear at the contact, laid his hands over and around hers.

The wraiths retreated, fleeing through the door and down into the waters around them as if fleeing something far more dreadful than their adversary.

Sweat ran down her brow, into her eyes, and down her lip as the stone opened and pulled on her increasingly waning personal reserves. This sweat threatened soon to freeze as what was kept within and beyond it poured out.

Dark forms flowed from the night and the salty water about them froze over. A grey mist enveloped the pair, and this too was darkening. One of the forms unfolded and circled around them, hooded eyes meeting Kirsty’s as it passed, pinning her and stealing her breath. The chill, the despair, the sobs and screams in her mind she knew. This before her was what she knew as a Defector. Yet, it was not ragged like the ones she had seen before, nor like the ones she knew roamed the country in her time. This one seemed healthy, and somehow pure. It wrapped around Belial and Kirsty, pulling them into a chill embrace but leaving them faced forward as others continued to pour out and drove for Astereth.

Astereth, or more accurately the remnant, screamed and backpedaled, releasing the strikes originally meant for Kirsty into these. They absorbed the blows into their nothingness and pressed forward, eventually engulfing and extinguishing his flame. All that remained was the wraith of a man in ancient garb Kirsty still could not quite place. Then they pulled him within the Black Gate, leaving the one holding Kirsty and Belial in place.

Slowly it released them. Bowed.

His voice hissed and raked low, popped like coal in the grate, growled softly like a dog still on guard. “The Cwn Annwfn and Gwyllgi recognize the current guardians of the Cailleach’s Black Gate. We welcome helping the possible Cauldron of the Sisters of Lake and Sea and,” he paused, sniffing, “someone that participates in the Wild Hunt? You smell rather like we do.” He glanced to Belial, “Also I suppose it is good someone of your blood makes up for it and protects one of the selkies, after what that Thing did to this one’s Ladies.”

Kirsty shivered, the air still and chill as if a Thing were in the room. There were no flashbacks to a younger time, nor memories of the times she had encountered them though, and this being before her felt Untainted, Pure. “Thank you?”

The being before her nodded, stood. Below the cowl a black snout briefly flashed fangs. He bent down and pulled the cowl back from his face enough to lap at the water, seeming to drink easily despite the thick ice blocking access. “You should reclaim the fragment of your Lady before you leave this place, Mistress. I do not know what other adversary to you is near, but my fur is still on end.” He rose, having washed the taste of Taint from his mouth.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

Donate Here via Paypal

Or you can become a monthly patron through Patreon!

Crossposts: http://rainstardragon.livejournal.com/1153539.html

If you are a Patreon Patron you got to see sometimes excerpts or current drafts in the Patron Only posts, along with other things. They got to see this installment a little early. "Leviathan" is a tentative name for this chapter now that I am in the part of my outline dealing with the Leviathan self-prompt. I still need to also work on Etain and Finnol's part in this book more. For me with this project a tricky part is dealing with the concurrent parts that all depend on each other and how the fabric of their realities shift due to events in the lives of others and the butterfly effects of things happening out of the scope of these books but within the other two series.

This is part one of the chapter. I am unsure how large this chapter will clock out at. Currently we have 1,168 words for this one. I need to sit with the total manuscript wordcount, but right now... Numbers...

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 36
Chapter 15 (part 1)
Leviathan

Kirsty saw a form darken the way ahead as she hurtled at the mercy of the waters. Before she could attempt to change course her head made contact with the shadow. White lightning flashed within her skull and behind her eyes, not just her eyelids. A screech filled her ears when bone contacted bone and both swirled away from each other. The form came back and claws raked into her. Kirsty did the only thing she could. Claw and fang lashed for her adversary. Blood came from herself and the other but not enough to cloud the water. Fire licked through her skin and traveled her nerves with the answering blow.

Her eyes finally registered. The dark priestess was here before her. Once again the green fire flared and she could feel the Taint seeking a way inside. The battle waged on more than one front, and the Taint seemed stronger than the last they had this dance together. She, of course, was weaker.

Kirsty pulled back and to the side, her tail growing weary already from the blows and strokes that each had been alternating. Eyes darted, looking for a weapon, a sword, shield, Lance... Anything. Mara's spear sliced the water near her, and the water crackled as each tried to control it. Kirsten fell back further. The plume that thrust her here could no longer get be felt, the portal closed.

No falling back.

At once, both sets of eyes fell on the same chest. Lost at the base of a pillar it gleamed dark in the murk, calling, exuding chill. A chill ran up Kirsty's spine at the familiar aura, though she knew she had never seen it before. Raechel's lips twisted, whether smile or grimace was moot. The black selkie lunged for it. The white selkie followed, not knowing why, only that it had to be kept from her. Both pairs of clawed hands closed around the tiny box and the writhing and beating began again.

"Let it go!" Raechel snarled, voice barely understandable as she swung her tail and connected with Kirsty's head.

Kirsty gripped harder and swung her own tail despite the throb and muffling sensation in her ears. The sting in her nose told her that something had opened yet again; the salts in the water sang there. Something gave, and the fingers around the chest slipped. Her arms closed fully around the box.

Up. Up was where that strange sense inside told her to go. Kirsty followed the directive. Raechel pressed close after. Kirsty strove, undulating as fiercely as she could and trying to outrace the other, weighed down by whatever dark object was contained in the tiny chest. Panic pried with red fingers at the edges of her vision and despair stroked icy fingers down her spine. Was there a buru-buru here, like those covered in one of those long ago classes at school. Did they range this far?

If so, it was getting a fine meal today.

The flesh of a flipper split beneath the assault of the blade behind her. More of her strength slipped away, yet she persisted. Onward, upward, forward, away. She tried to coax or command the water to propel her, but she had lost her hold, forced to continue to rely only on the still waning power of her tail.

Kirsty’s spirit railed. It called for her half-missing soul and strained forward as earnestly as the muscles of her body raced. A quick glance downward revealed the water had cleared enough to see the teeth of her pursuer and the green glow of her eyes. Her spirit sank momentarily.

In desperation she pointed a finger at the dark priestess and released it all, everything she felt, everything she could grasp. Unfiltered energies thundered through her and left her cracked, empty. The bolt flew.

Raechel grinned, moved the spear, caught it.

She missed.

The bolt bounced back with a bit more added to it, caught her squarely, spread quickly over and under skin.

Kirsty broke water, flew beyond and into air. She locked eyes with - Morvan? What? An unceremonious landing and her entire body now feeling as if she burned alive beneath her skin brought her back to earth where her body flopped and twitched of its own accord.

Laughter, deep and dark like chasms of nightmare filled her ears, covering the splash that would have heralded Raechel’s emergence into the treasure cave. Kirsty tried to move, found that she couldn’t. A knife passed over her, shaving, cutting. Cords snapped and her halfpelt dissolved into nothing, leaving her shivering.

“Cow.” A grunt followed as something knocked Raechel back into the water. Morvan’s face - no, it wasn’t his after all, only similar - came into hazy view above her.

The cursing was fairly colorful and she dimly made note of some choice ones for probably future use. She was being dragged now, and felt curious eyes watching them both. If she’d had the strength and the ability to move she would have glared. Hands prized the chest out of her arms, whatever she had rescued vanishing from her keeping.

Her heart sank. Her skin felt further away than ever.

Perhaps she had failed? What would happen if that were so? What happened to those that failed in their tests?

More laughter filled the cave and now she could tell that dread sound fell not from the lips of the Lilitu now shielding her from the view of the fuzzy pillar of fire. The part of her brain still concussed vaguely hoped she wasn’t going to need glasses if she survived whatever she had so unceremoniously been cannoned into.

At least she was clothed. Somewhat. Even if feeling distinctly bald. How did people cope with feeling fabric on them?

“Are you going to give it to me, then?” The voice ran clawed fingers down her spine and something inside drew back from the unseen touch, unprevented by the human between herself and the fire blob.

When the fire blob became an actual form Kirsty wished it hadn’t. Without knowing how something recognized the face of flame.

“No. I won’t be.” The knuckles around his wand were white, belying the confidence in the answering voice.

“Are you so sure of that? I know think that little bit of seaweed there is going to do much against my priestess after she unleashes your little pet, nor to help you put me back.” The smirk grew. “This should be entertaining for a bit.”

Kirsty wiped her nose. “Cocky blighter, isn’t he, Lilitu? Have a plan?”

Belial winced. “Live. Don’t distract. Call me Ciarán if you must call me anything.”

Astereth laughed again as something shook the cavern, and a low booming hum soon followed. “His name is Belial. Worthless, can’t even own his given name. Now then my little one, your time is up. Best to give me that blood you bear. I feel the presence of she that should have been mine within you.”

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

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Welcome back to the story! If you don't wish to use the Selkies' Skin tag to find the entries, check the ToC on the Sticky Note at Dreamwidth. Story is mirrored to myLiveJournal, from my Dreamwidth, as well as on a dedicated site. For story news and more, subscribe to my Twitter (@AmehanaArashi) or go on Facebook and like either THG StarDragon Publishing or Selkies' Skins. As always, the main tag for the full story is selkies' skins and the tag for "Temple and Skinquest" is selkies' skins 2.

Book one (Castle and Well) of Selkies' Skins is available in entirety in ebook format as of March 16th, beginning at Smashwords. The print edition is now available on Amazon and Lulu with Samantha Buckley's stunning cover depicting Kirsty and the storm. An audio edition of the first book in the series narrated by Illya Leonov and now available on Amazon, iTunes, and Audible, with other venues pending. He has finished "Book of Seals: Pearls of Sea and Stone" which accompanies and precedes Selkies' Skins: Castle and Well which will be available in full audiobook format soon. (click to hear what he sounds like in past recordings of other projects)

My apologies for the long delay. At least the move is done and I can get back to work and writing.

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Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 33
Chapter 13 part 3
Skinned

The familiar trickle began again from Kirsty’s nose and the taste of salt slipped over her tongue. Tearing, that was the best way she could comprehend the feeling in her head. Another bit of herself tearing away, a thread being pulled stiffly and inexorably from her being, from her past. Unraveling. Skinning. Worse than having had to give up her human covering to be fit to be reborn.

“We can fix this, tell me, what do you see with your sight, Daughter?” The Weissefrau’s voice cut through the pain. She drew Kirsty into the water step by step. It rose higher as they went.

The lad with them reached for Kirsty, but was restrained by the old Lightkeeper.

Kirsty wiped at her nose with he sleeve as she gathered her focus to look. “There’s a red light all around the edges, pulsing like a heart. I feel… something. It’s not right.”

The Weissefrau had her to her shoulders now in the cold waters. “Like you’re being unmade, my dear?”

“Yes.”

“Then on you go. Follow the light like a good girl on out. Begin to be remade.” Before Kirsty’s eyes could clear and her lips form the question she shoved the maid down. Kirsty’s mouth was still open and the human sputtered as the last of what was holding her was pulled away by some celestial weaver beyond the span of space and time known to mortals. Bubbles of air rose to the surface as the blood flowed again and the water turned red.

The lad wrenched himself free of the Lightkeeper finally, heaving himself at the terrible goddess of water and bone left in the natural well. Before he collided a wall of water engulfed him and held him to face the Weissefrau. Her ice grey eyes bored into him as she watched the water win its way into him. “Noble intent, poor execution, mere human understanding after all you’ve seen. I am not the one that will harm her. You might have seen her success and your children might have mingled with her had you heeded my Lightkeeper and your vows to me.”

As Kirsty’s body was pulled through a passage below, the lad’s body floated to one side of the deity’s domain. The Weissefrau threw back her head and howled. In the distance a pack of wolves answered and began their way. The Lightkeeper looked away, and she smiled grimly. “Perhaps in a way, he still might get what he’d have liked just not as he’d hoped.”

“My Lady?” The Lightkeeper chanced a look at her. She still was too terrible to behold for long and he looked away well aware his sleep would be disturbed for some time by her visage.

She shook her head and adjusted a cloak around herself before sitting on a rock. “Stop blaming yourself, I know you are. He’d have stolen it if she does survive this turn. You can go back now. If they ask, I have claimed them.”

“As you say.” He kept his face and his feeling so long as he could control them neutral as possible until he was back off her path. The deity, for her part, dispersed back into her water, releasing herself to it and trying to be fluid enough to determine what was being changed.

Farther back in the tunnel Raechel found a thick oak door reinforced with spells and hammered iron. The tunnel continued further beyond the door, beckoning. Below her she could feel a passage of water leading back to the sea, presumably through the cave she had come through. The passage below would have of necessity worn through some weakness in the stone around her.

Behind the door is what interested her most. Something large was contained within the chamber. Though it seemed to sleep it pressed at the edges of the containment much the same as did the creatures that Mara kept contained in certain rooms of her central temple and the deepest depths. Its presence was palpable, causing her short-hairs to prickle and rise in warning and her longer hairs to lift a little as she tensed. Trying the door she could not unlock it, nor could she force or undo these spells, not without trying to blast it off the hinges with energy she preferred to keep for later. She did feel the thing behind the door move though. The shifting turned her stomach, made her quake, and yet thrilled her.

“I’ll be back for you later, perhaps.” She whispered through the door, pressing against it and grinning. “We’ll have some fun, yes? Whatever you are.”

There was a smack of something on rock behind, and a splash. Raechel giggled and squirmed, stroking the door as a shimmer of green continued fighting against the purifying spell the child had unleashed on her.

She blew a kiss to the thing behind the door and continued along the passage, following it upward.

Raechel’s exploration ended at a thick oak door at the top of a long, narrow, cramped set of steep stairs. The cliff stone complained darkly on her way up. Here things sat silent and brooding over untold secrets, lies, and a hint of blood. The door barring her way was not like the doors below the sea. No hinge revealed which way it swung. There was iron binding it, but instead was in bands reinforcing all the way across. Her hands explored and fingers prodded everything that looked as if it might be a trigger.

She winced when her fingers brushed the iron, placed the worst of them in her mouth and frowned. A sickly green pulsed briefly and red mist spread along the bar.

Behind the door a presence lingered, stirred, its attention gained by her searching.

She stilled, breath bated, listening, straining.

The table beside his chair held the dregs of cold tea, dark and muddy as the hearts of most of his family but at least slightly warmer. Belial leaned forward in his chair, slender hands covering his face and fingers trying to press away the aches within his skull. Tendrils of bleached sun had worked out of the ribbon he used to bind back his hair, sticking with sweat. Before him on the grate tinges of blue, green, and purple leached out of the fire and back into the wholesome reds and oranges that indicated no demon manifested within it to him today. On the walls around him lurked memorabilia of wrecks, or more accurately ‘harvests’ that those sharing his name had done before him. Among them hung several of their ancient rival’s inhuman pelts.

Glazed eyes gazed down upon him, thoughts guarded.

They did not speak to his siblings or the others, but sometimes they gave him wary advice, and even comfort.

The pelt he kept tucked and hidden safe inside his clothing continued murmuring to him, pleas and curses, promises and threats. Choking soul screamed questions dug deep into his ears and heart with poison tipped claws. Had his storm turned her course though? Had he managed to keep her from going there despite her headstrong and imperious burning of his warning letter?

He knew she burnt it. He’d seen it in his gazing ball. He’d heard the little harrumph of said pelt. How many times had she made that sound at him before when he asked her to be careful?

Perhaps this duplicitous treachery of his family name was finally driving him insane, but it was worth it. He rarely got to see her, and when in public when acknowledging each other they had to fight to keep suspicion at bay. Those nights when she came to dance with her brothers and sisters of the pelt below the moon were worth it, every fear-lanced moment that he watched and feared the others would also pick her out among them. So too were the brief times he got to be father to the little one.

He winced when the log in the fire popped and sang, doing what it could to drive out the chill that always fell whenever he gazed or rose the storms. His fingers dug harder. He tried to weave and coax the energies the way Salena had tried to teach him one horribly hungover morning in a port far away, but his clumsy fingers merely slipped, and the spell tangled and died. Healing never had been his gift.

The ball of quartz on the table beside his chair clouded again, this time with red mist. Pulsing, beating, it continued and waited for his eyes to fall on it. He, however, eventually stood and made his way out of the room. He needed something stronger than what he had recently taken in order to tame the still mounting headache. The mist grew insistently thicker within the orb, but the master paid no heed and the door shut behind him.

After a timeless stretch of suspended breath Raechel began moving again and broadening her search. She conjured another orb of light and suspended it to light her way, finally finding a snake shaped protuberance to her right side in the stone. Running her fingers over the smoothness she finally found the trigger and the door slid to the side revealing a room that looked in her eyes to be some sort of combination of library and soul prison.

She stepped inside and the door — it was truly a whole book case — slid back into position. Unless she could find the trigger later she was trapped. A gazing orb throbbed an angry, furious blood-red on the stand where it lurked. If her eye lingered she saw the equally furious spirit pounding the barrier of crystal as it screamed unheard alarms. The selkie skins mounted about the room refused eye contact and speech with her. She could see they still contained part of the soul and consciousness of their former owners, but each eye contained the unfocused and glassy look of rejection. Raechel knew this gaze well already. The Sleeping Souls put to rest in the Temple back home all rebuked her in the same way since she gained the Taint whenever she entered the Chambers of the Box to lay out another set aside skin for the day it would be needed again.

Raechel closed her eyes and forced back the tear that threatened before turning to inspect more of the room. These probably all belonged to surface dwellers. What did they know, traitors? Perhaps these skins were better out of circulation, like The Ronan’s.

The pull started again, leading her away from the lavish darknesses of the firelit room and its rich wooden cases to before the fireplace itself. Of their own will her hands rose to the mantle and she heard herself speaking strange words her throat should not have been capable of. They came from deep inside, curling and coiling out with languid stretches and tickling places that her former love had not been able to reach, nor had the courage to search for. A slow smile curled in response, thirsty for more.

The invocation ended and the fire turned a sickly green.

A form gathered in the flames, the face of a darkly handsome male. The eyes bored into her know, finally out of the dreams that dominated her nights. For now any memory of Bethrise, whether during their fight or their good times, faded. She barely felt the tingles from the frayed ends of the roughly severed thread as the other end attempted to reach her.

“You are Astereth.” Raechel was not fully sure where the knowledge came from.

“I am.”

This should have bothered her. She should reject him. Now.

“Yet you do not wish me removed from your blood.”

“No.”

“You feel empty. Rejected.”

“Yes.”

“You feel that Mara prefers the land dweller, and an interbred bloodline at that.”

Raechel nodded, bit her lip, curled it and snorted whilst displaying a fang.

“She does, you know.” The being continued. “I know their bloodline well. She always has preferred them over the ones that stay within her.” The voice curled and stroked her ears, caressed the sensitive place on the bridge of her nose that all selkies shared.

“Why am I not good enough? I’ve given her myself. I’ve lost my mate. I wield her spear even though she’s damn well capable of doing so herself were she bothered. Why am I not enough?” Raechel hissed, stepping closer to the fire and pressing into the caresses. Unnoticed flames licked her feet as her eyes stayed pinned by the apparition.

“Nothing is ever enough for her, nor her sister either truthfully. They press, they demand, they entice. Yet they leave their dedicants in the end. I know of the pain, too personally. I would not leave you for some child that isn’t even a whole being.”

Raechel shivered, arched into the promise and then as quickly pulled away.

“I know you’ve heard similar before. I can prove my troth though. Come through the fire. There is a talisman in the vaults hidden here that you can use against your burrowing insect. Make her hurt, make her bleed. Already there is one using it in another time to do the same, and you can make it worse for her. You can even use it to regain your mate, make him abandon those soft ones you envy so. Perhaps even bend the rejectors of the Cailleach to your will as well. Come.”

Raechel stepped through the flames, taken through the wards and into the vaults that once were innermost parts of the Sacred Cavern before the land had risen and the sea fallen in the area. Saltwater lay still in a pool in the center of the room. In the midst of this rose the stark remains of a dais where a sundered seat and broken box of stone from which trickled a steady stream of surprisingly fresh smelling water held court over an array of riches and dangers. A being of sickly flame stood at the edge of the pool.

“Right now it is down there due to a ill planned move.” The being spared a poisonous look back the way they had come. “I cannot go down to fish it out, nor would I be able to bring it up even if I could penetrate her waters. There are two bloods that can, and I bear none.” Astereth chuckled a bit, then scowled as his companion did not respond to his joke.

Raechel did not wince from him. “Is there anything I should know before I dive in?”

“I am not sure. It is being protected, but the fall obscured certain knowledge from me regarding the spell that went in with it.”

Raechel wrinkled her nose and knelt at the edge, adjusting her skin around herself as she gazed in. She brushed her senses over the water, closed the skin and shivered her whiskers. Gingerly she dipped a flipper in.

No pushback.

She slipped in. Astereth smiled. The water pulsed. Astereth scowled. On the table in the library above the gazing orb filled the room with a baleful light as it awaited its master.

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Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 32
Chapter 13 part 2
Skinned

Kirsty took a little time to recover before sitting up. Quiet burbles and coos attracted everyone’s attention to a drawer beneath the bed and Selena disappeared for a moment to open it. She reappeared a moment later with a chubby child clutched to her bosom who seemed blissfully unaware that they had weathered a storm, or that there was anything that had been wrong at all. Kirsty looked where the baby had come from quizzically.

“What? Topside wouldn’t have been the place for her and she’ll not do well away from me for long yet. The sea’s her home too, like mine.” Selena grinned a bit. “Like yours, too.”

“What would have happened to her had we sunk?” Kirsty ventured, frowning.

“Same as the rest of us, but she’d have been... more comfortable.” Selena took to baby over to the chair at her desk.

Kirsty took advantage of the space to investigate the drawer a little more. Something half familiar prickled the back of her mind, then submerged again.

Salena fed her baby while the young man blushed and slid out after making excuses to seeing about the rest of the crew, and that he was glad the young lady was seemingly well again.

Kara shook her head. “That’s the lad I was talking about earlier. Seems to already have taken a shine to you.”

Kirsty blushed and made a worried sound. “Sweet of him, but I have a boy I’m interested in elsewhere already. He’ll be waiting.” She made her way to a window and looked out over the water, puzzling her next move and watching for the Lightkeeper.

“Too bad. He’s a good lad.” Selena commented, burping her child and putting it in a sling. The baby eagerly turned itself where it could watch the world and wiggled chubby lightly webbed fingers.

Kirsty glanced at her, then blinked, confused at the baby’s momentary resemblance to a young Morvan, but it was gone again. “He seems so.”

Things bumped along awkwardly until Kirsty was topside again and the Lightkeeper was pulling up in his boat bringing provisions. He and Selena eyed each other even more awkwardly while her baby burbled and drooled. Kirsty wanted to go ashore to explore the lighthouse facilities and surroundings, half expecting to be told no. After a bit of hemming and hawing she was given leave.

And so she went. Unexpected by herself but seemingly expected by the Lightkeeper the boy was sent with her to keep an eye on her and to give her aid until she was sent for again. Kirsty was not certain what to think of the news that later in the day one of the boats would be sent to retrieve her after she had had adequate time to speak with the Lightkeeper regarding her quest, and to give the Captain time to chart the next course while crew saw about restocking fish from the schools in the natural harbor.

Kirsty settled into a chair in what passed for the living room, the Lightkeeper offering tea made from the waters from the well of the Wisenfrau.

“So, you quest.” The Lightkeeper began, as if the conversation through the miles had not ended.

“Yes. I seek the Temple of Mara. What can you tell me?” Kirsty looked round, fascinated by the lighthouse, unsure how to react to the power focused in and by the building. Had the lighthouse at home felt this way to her ancestors before Mara’s rages?

“It’s nearer and farther than you think, going by what is handed down to us Keepers. We only have bits and pieces. The Abbey has others.”

Kirsty pondered his words as he brought a lantern very similar to Mrs. Kitsch’s over to the seating they gathered at, and a plate of fish and seaweed that wound up in front of her. She ate as she considered. “How do I know I’m even on the right path?” Kirsty finally asked as she looked up from the meal, having been much hungrier than she’d thought.

He fiddled with the lantern, polishing it. At least it seemed to Kirsty that’s what he was doing. “You don’t. None of us ever know if we’re following the path we are meant to take. Often we stray far from it.”

Kirsty sipped her tea now that it was cool enough, the well water spreading through her slowly and balancing the preponderance of Mara’s salt she’d picked up over her journey.

The lad listened quietly, leaning forward as if by simply doing so he felt that he could lend some sort of aid. The Lightkeeper smiled secretively at the motion that had gone completely unnoticed by the young maid.

“There’s a cave nearby that’s supposedly sacred to your folk.” He lit the lantern after he was satisfied. Pinpricks of light shone about the darkened room, an array of stars for a mariner. “We are here.” He pointed. “It is there.” He pointed at one nearby. “Here is where the Weissefrau’s well is.” His finger moved again, and then onward. “Here is where the Abbey currently is. That moves sometimes, when a raid is imminent.”

Kirsty studied the light-map and it gradually dawned on her that there were times when she was very little, and Grandma had visited with Mrs. Kitsch that many of these lights had been danced on their walls to entertain her. The star for the cave drew her strongest.

“If I were you, child, I’d return to your path as fast as is possible. My gut tells me that the cave is where you need to go.”

The lad cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but isn’t that the cave the selkies are fighting with the Lillitu’s over? I can’t help but notice how some of these points correlate with some of Captain’s maps, and that matches an area we are normally careful when sailing near.”

“It is. The seafolk are losing many such places now.”

“So how are we to get her there? I’m not sure our Captain would be very for taking her there, though right now she is not in the best state to guess.”

The Lightkeeper looked the boy over slowly. “They seem to always get younger,” he mused. “Leave or not, she has to go.”

Silence settled over the room, deep and uncomfortable as a shroud too small for the wearer and donned while still living. The threads of time and fate continued to be woven and to the three it seemed as if they could feel competing designs, needles and shuttles battling to have dominance. Kirsty gripped her head and groaned, leaning forward as blood began to drip from one nostril and her attention pulled to where she should have been.

As she sat and the boy pulled out a questionable kerchief that was attempted to be kept clean and functional she felt the bed on her back and saw the dim figure of David at her side. The pressure of his hand on hers was as real as the nose she now held pinched in her fingers.

Finally the wave passed. “Bring her to me, now.” An older woman’s voice slid through their minds. “Quickly.”

The Lightkeeper nodded and sighed, rising. “The Lady has spoken.”

Heading out the door he led the way along the promontory, which sloped downward to meet the mainland. How far the walk was away from the light was hard for Kirsty to guess. Just like home at Selkie Point time and space folded oddly here. It could have been any distance. The way Kirsty’s feet tingled she would have also been willing to bet a pint of mead that someone in the past had ensorcelled the path to further facilitate speed of travel for the correct people.

Or perhaps the Weissefrau simply was pulling on them in the same way that sometimes The Lady did when she was in a very demanding mood.

The terrain changed. Things seemed denser, greener. Mist rose from the forest they had ventured into. Darkness rolled back and swirled near again as they passed. Eyes watched their progress from trees. Chitterings spoke of squirrels, chipmunks, and other nameless things. Once or twice when turning her head towards a rustle Kirsty caught a flash of white or green, and a mossy limb being drawn back behind a tree.

The lad pressed closer to her, put an arm around her. She pressed her lips until the headache stabbed again. It was only then that she felt truly grateful for the arm around her, as she stumbled and would have fallen if not for the quick reply of the other arm.

The Lightkeeper looked back at them with hooded eyes.

Kirsty wished it had been David traveling with them. The eyes of the boy had something that was beginning to look possessive.

David might have actually punched him if there, or mauled him if in wolf form.

The forest drew in tighter again before spreading out into a meadow. A clear spring welled up among rocks, flowing sedately away toward some river via a creek it had carven over untold centuries. Moss hung heavy on the trees around the edge, draperies and hair.

Watching closely, she thought she could see the forest breathe.

The spring watched, kept company by the forest. Whether the forest was male or female she could not be entirely certain. The local forest spirit was grudgingly sharing the company of the water with them though.

“I have brought the child. She seeks to be a woman and whole.” The Lightkeeper barely raised his voice, the tone reverent. The forest caught and magnified the short speech.

“Come closer child, let me see you.” Beside the spring stood an old woman, her visage constantly shifting. One moment she was tall and strong, the next gnome-sized and twisted like pines on the coastline. Her hand took Kirsty’s once her feet had done the deity’s bidding; her touch was sandpaper. “Oh, you are worse than I had thought. Poor child. You are far off of your proper path.”

The familiar trickle began again from Kirsty’s nose and the taste of salt slipped over her tongue.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

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Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 30
Chapter 12 part 3
finally titled: Stormsong

The storm raged and Kirsty sang into it, trying to calm it, pretending it was just an angry unicorn or disgruntled dragon. The storm did not listen, instead whirling through the skies and repeatedly hefting the hems of Mara’s Skirt, drenching beyond the bone those cursed to be above deck. Below deck was not much drier for those manning the bilge.

Meanwhile Kirsty could feel the captain and her craft, their energies inextricably intertwined. The craft seemed to be in disagreement with where captain Makay, “Moribeth-Makay,” the ship supplied, wanted to go.

The captain strove to a someone that the ship gave dissonant groans of dislike and distrust regarding. She oozed conflicting feelings that squeezed Kirsty’s stomach as she continued trying to tame the storm. Song after song the storm ignored. There was an unnatural taste to its energy, dark, hurt, conflicted. It reached for the captain of the craft just as much as it pushed away. Strangely it felt almost like a much cleaner version of Lilitu’s energy. Behind the storm Kirsty’s soul, laid bare so she could do her best attempts, she felt another mind lurking and darting.

Still the captain strove toward the man, reaching out with her own gifts. The ship continued dreaming only of ports pointedly far away from the flashes of white-blond hair and the glints of green eyes that Kirsty caught sight of now and then at the moments before the storm’s fury would rise.

Something familiar began to creep into Kirsty’s thoughts. She could hear the clang and smell the scents of battle and powder despite seeing no source of it. The chill of death and despair gripped her as undeniably as the soul wrenching kiss and touch of the Things was said to be.

Was one of them out in the storm? Kirsty’s concentration and song faltered at the thought, and her focus slipped to trying to feel if one was within her range. Without Byron or David, would she be able to fend one off? Were any of the crew learned in that sort of magic. Were any of them learned in magic at all besides the captain and possibly her first mate?

“The choice will be soon...” The voice of her thoughts was not her own, deep, creaky as beams in the wind, raspy as if it had been sawed and hacked to be given life. “Can you save my captain’s soul? I fear she will lose it soon, one way or the other.” The voice was more masculine than feminine, difficult to pin. Distinctly possessive. Jealous. Afraid.

“How so?” Kirsty sang into the wind, the words snatched inaudibly from her lips.

“I can’t fight my captain long, but she’s set course for the reason these people need an apothecary again. Their relationship... is stormy.”

Kirsty wanted to be anywhere else, home preferably. Somewhere away from storms and the sting of salt and water slamming into her with hate. It made her think too much of the night her grandmother was gone and the storm that took more of the lighthouse ruins.

Lighthouse.

The image rose in her mind and her song changed. She imagined a light to guide the ship to safe port and to warn of familiar rocks. Out beyond the point on what was once a connected tip the tower strove and held a torch against a tearing sky trying to claw the flame from the proffered hand against the fears and the perils of the darkness. A pointed silhouette waited, holding aloft it’s own light in the room, ready to relight the lamp with spell or match.

A twang on her heart from a familiar cord, and she hefted back, discovering on the other end not the wizened Mrs. Kitsch, but someone from a time far older than she and no Cowan. The face though, he certainly was a Kitsch. The light he manned was not the light of Seal Point, though she could feel the connection to it. Words came and she strove to catch them from the vision. Understanding of them did not come, they weren’t her language, guttural and beautiful at once. Strength radiated from the chanced on guide.

Kirsty gave voice to these words. Distantly she could hear the gasps of Salena and the dismayed groan of Kara. The image of the answering tower rose in her mind fully and combined with the image of her home port and how it must be in this time that either she was in or the ghosts were from, and the power of her changed song grew. The voice of the ship fell back.

Kirsty sang of hope and home. She sang of safety through the storm and mince pies in ovens wafting curls of steam. Every image she could think of she wrapped up with the light, giving flesh to the ghosts of the Kitsches. The selkie lass imagined herself holding up the old lantern Mrs. Kitsch still so carefully kept back at home and used from time to time, sharing her light in reply to the light of the tower.

Around the ship the storm drew back and calmed somewhat, not quite tamed, not quite driven back, but no longer answering here to the wizard that had conjured it in the first place. Kirsty could feel him pressing and trying to claim her holding back. She reached inside herself for yet more and knowingly touched the heart of the sea. She had no time to pay attention to the shift in herself. The lives of those on this boat for now were more important to her than her quest.

The ship’s course changed and it leapt eagerly along it, driven by the magic filling its torn sails. Against the physical wind it ran, which still ran in accordance with the laws of the current storm. The spiritual wind, however, answered to the blooming Mara priestess as she balanced the powers of witch and representative within herself. Finally, hoarse, they seemed to be at the edge of the storm.

A lighthouse beckoned them. Captain Moribeth-Makay made for the safe waters and avoided the rocks, finally dropping anchor as the last of the storm died away. Her lips pressed thin as she surveyed the jagged wooded coastline. It was not where she had wanted to go, but Salena didn’t have the heart to voice it. She could vaguely feel him though, and that meant a chance to either get back at him or discover if there was a plot afoot to drive them apart despite how badly they wanted the ancient feud ended.

A slightly taller, slightly older Kirsty slumped where she was still tied, head bowed and rasping as tangles obscured her face. The captain pressed her lips tighter on seeing what had happened to the girl, stroking her own sealskin where she had it hidden on her person. Why was the girl not already in control of her body again? Her last stormsinger never seemed quite so drained in the aftermath.

Cheers went up from the crew when it sank in they were safe, at least for now. Kirsty sank to the decking when untied, too far still in the grip of the energies she’d been working with to notice, nor to feel the crush of those coming to thank her. Neither did she hear the captain’s words nor those of Kara, or the shoulder of the lad that somehow wound up under her head when she was lifted up to be cared for when he offered to help take her below. What she did feel was the careful untanglings of the old Lightkeeper as he undid her youthful and untrained too tight grasping of the safety anchor he had offered when the seals that kept him company had set up their panicked cries before she had slammed into his mind.

“Mara preserve us, but you’re an old one to be so rough. Weren’t you ever paying attention when your elders trained you?” his distant comment floated by. The voice sounded nearly like Father Ronan to her, but not quite. Perhaps a distant relative? Certainly the wrong accent. This was more like David’s accent than anything Celtic.

“Probably Mara’s work alone, but what I just went through is not something covered in school where I’m from.” She answered him.

By this time she was already laid on the captain’s bed again. The captain, Kara, and the lad collectively frowned as Kirsty spoke aloud, believing her words meant for them. Speaking in her sleep after such an adventure was likely not a good sign. The lad dabbed a dampened cloth over her parched lips, looking to the others to see if they would explain what a school was. Surely not a bunch of fish the way she said it.

“A cruel thing that’s been done to you then child.” the Lightkeeper replied, in her mind and still unheard by the others, still tangled a bit overly much in the young selkie’s energy net. “You seem unbalanced right now. If your ship will be here long enough I can bring some of the Weisse Frau’s water. Surely your crew you are caring for need to restock on fresh drink.”

“I don’t know about cruel. I also don’t know if they need more water, I’ve not been aboard long.” She replied, unaware still of her surroundings or the eyes on her. “But yes Lightkeeper they probably could use fresh water, and if the Weisse Frau’s water is anything like The Lady’s back home I could definitely use some.”

The voice grew quieter as he untangled more of her net from himself. “I’ll bring some then. When you wake you can tell the others if you have enough voice.” One little bit remained tethered besides the Kitsch thread. “This is an impressive net you’ve made yourself.” He threw the remaining tangle off, and then Kirsty was alone in her mind again.

“Impressive net? What is he talking about? I had no hands free to throw a net... Strange.” Kirsty mumbled, her lips and throat stinging, but seemingly not as bad as they had been. She opened her eyes tiredly to see three confused sets staring back at her, and a pair of hands still keeping a damped cloth ready.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

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Welcome back to the story! If you don't wish to use the Selkies' Skin tag to find the entries, check the ToC on the Sticky Note at Dreamwidth. Story is mirrored to myLiveJournal, from my Dreamwidth, as well as on a dedicated site. For story news and more, subscribe to my Twitter (@AmehanaArashi) or go on Facebook and like either THG StarDragon Publishing or Selkies' Skins. As always, the main tag for the full story is selkies' skins and the tag for "Temple and Skinquest" is selkies' skins 2.

Book one (Castle and Well) of Selkies' Skins is available in entirety in ebook format as of March 16th, beginning at Smashwords. The print edition is now available on Amazon and Lulu with Samantha Buckley's stunning cover depicting Kirsty and the storm. An audio edition of the first book in the series narrated by Illya Leonov and now available on Amazon, iTunes, and Audible, with other venues pending. He has finished "Book of Seals: Pearls of Sea and Stone" which accompanies and precedes Selkies' Skins: Castle and Well which will be available in full audiobook format soon. (click to hear what he sounds like in past recordings of other projects)

This is later than I would have liked. There has been so much going on since the last post and I am still trying to catch up. We are talking so much that it is difficult for me to even try to list, so I won't. I went to the ER Saturday night (or was it Sunday?) for severe back spasms lasting all day. They were stopped, but I have to be careful. So far things seem to be under control. Yes, I've been using my back brace like a good girl. Here is an update, finally.

Also there is another mythical creatures poem uploaded to my Patreon, for those interested. This month starts off with Troll, and two other poems will join that for the month of July a bit later in the month. Interested? http://www.patreon.com/Amehana

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 29
Chapter 12 part 2
finally titled: Stormsong

The memory of the dream sat heavy on Kirsty’s mind. After so many sessions of Divination with Madam Zeldethin the connotations were not lost on her. The wreckage that had been found earlier in the year did not pair well with the dream.

“Mom can’t be dead. She’s mom. If she were, Mara still probably wouldn’t allow it. Mara was then probably working on bringing her home? But then how are Ven’thrith and Herne involved?” Kirsty puzzled the symbols as her hand slipped over the stone.

Her feet placed themselves as silently as possible as the worry continued to pulse. Kirsty’s hand continued to touch the wall now and then, though she was never certain what she expected her fingers to sense. Her nose wrinkled as she stuffed the worry back into the dark corners of her mind. Even with the care with which she placed her feet, silence was not completely possible with how her exposure made her shiver. Prickling fur complained as much as her arms and legs.

Kirsty’s steps began to grow muffled the further through the passages she walked. The world faded to white around her and when she reached to run her fingers along the wall it was no longer there. Mist wound around her ankles and twined further up her legs like a long lost lover, then sank, raking slippery claws that reminded her of the grindylows. The chill sank to her bones, pricking her skin as the goosebumps continued to rise.

Salt spray kissed her, filled her nose. The stone floor bowed to oaken planking. Creaking timbers spoke to anyone listening of the waves passing beneath. The waves spoke through the timers of the passage of winds and the heartbeat driving the waters.

The mist wound and rose around her ankles, reached for her thighs again, and then sank again and flowed away to fully reveal to her the deck. Beaten down by the boots of an unknown number of seamen it glowered up at her and at the sky that took form above her. Stars flirted with clouds building at the horizon and sweeping toward the ship.

“Where am I now?” She thought, slipping herself behind some lashed barrels.

Voices called only now and then, and gradually the crew became visible. Where they materialized from Kirsty wasn’t sure, only that one breath there had been no bodies and the next bodies were there. The crew’s faces, both male and female, pressed low with concern. Strangely, Kirsty discovered that she knew these faces, though had no idea why or how. Some she could tell were distant relations.

Movement by the wheel drew her attention from her scrutinies. Fur and hair on end she went, slipping like shadows on the sea from hiding place to hiding place until she drew near to the stairs she needed. Her hopes for some loose sail or cloth to wrap and tie around herself on the way were in vain, most everything was already battened down, as she had expected they would be. Kirsty lurked in a pool of shadow the color of a seal’s nose, studying the stairs and the movements of the crew.

She would be able to sneak up just fine and hide herself from the crew, but the Captain? That was another story. Kirsty found herself wishing that she had the gift to simply write things and make them happen. She might be able to sing a distraction, but the song would give her away and might encourage the coming storm, and she did not feel like encouraging a storm when she didn’t even know where she was, or if this was another illusion like the ones she had trained with last year when facing her fears.

“You may as well come up girl. I saw you halfway across the deck when your scuttles had to be longer. Kara, go down and get the girl something. Probably a lost selkie like the others.” A voice piped and lilted from the wheel, female like the long shock of tied back flame had indicated.

“Aye, Cap’n.” Black leather and silver buckles pounded and jingled their way down the stairs. Kara, far more solid and real than Kirsty had ever seen her in the paintings, winked at where she lurked in the shadows before skipping into the Captain’s Quarters.

“That’s Kara? Where, and maybe even when, am I?”

“Know her do ye? Well, we do get about from port to port. As to the where and the when, obviously we’re riding Mara’s Skirts and there’s only one time when it comes to the sea, calendars and clocks or not. Slip on in and get some fake furs on before ye get sick. Ye’ll be of no use to any, ill.” The words were addressed to her, but the wind tried to take them, and the volume the captain used to make sure they got to her gave what should have been a soft voice a strange hard edge.

“Yes’m Captain.” Kirsty nodded, then slipped after Kara.

Kara had not been idle. The Captain’s wardrobe had been opened, and one of the dresses laid out. Red seemed to be a favored color, but black and white both seemed to be incorporated somehow into every garment she saw. A tri-color short cape had been laid by the dress.

“The smallest, should hopefully fit decent enough. Where’s yer skin girlie? Wouldn’t leave it hidden on here, just in case. Ye know how men can be out here. It wouldn’t be the sweet one that would be likeliest to find it, though he’d make fer a good ‘un.” Kara stepped back, settling her hands on her hips and scowling. “Not that they’d ‘ave it long. Cap’n Salena would clout ‘em good.”

Kirsty paled slightly at the name, trying to place it and why it sent chills up her spine. She shook her head and drew on the offered clothing. “No skin. Questing.”

“That seems strange. I guess I hope you get it. Not really heard of any selkie without one, except maybe a couple families. I don’t suppose you have a name that human tongue knows?”

“Kirsty. Kirsten Makay.”

“Another Makay? Interesting... Hmmm. It’s a small sea.” Kara surveyed the slightly warmer half-selkie before her, then nodded. “That’ll do. Better get ye back topside. She won’t want to just chuck you back if ye’ve got no way to survive on yer own out there, leaves only joinin’ the crew.”

Kara took Kirsty by the arm gently, but firm enough for her to more than realize this was in no way the Kara she knew from the painting, but the Kara the paintings had been based on and given refuge to her essence. The mariner drew her back out of the quarters and up onto the poop. The Captain, definitely a kinswoman by her eyes and the set of her jaw, continued to hold the course she had been attempting.

“Here she be, Cap’n.” Kara hadn’t let loose her grip. Her fingers pressed bone.

The Captain looked her over. “Much better, isn’t it? Listen, girl. Everyone aboard pulls their weight. You have the stance of someone familiar with ships, so that’s good. You pop up in the middle of the sea, with no obvious way to pay your passage. With this storm I don’t want to throw you back over, bound not to actually.” She looked Kirsty directly in the eyes, the wind whipping the tail of her hair and threatening the hat firmly strapped under her chin. “You have a funny way of talking, but Mara wouldn’t bring you here if you had no use, so. You willing to hear our code, girl?”

“Yes’m. As for pulling weight what I don’t know I’ll learn.” Kirsty tried to keep her voice from failing. How much the woman resembled her mother in some ways was even more unnerving than before.

“Fantastic. I hope you can cook. Our cook was our apothecary too, but we lost him in our last,” her eyes shifted, taking on a guarded and wounded look, “encounter. Not been to port to get a new one.”

“Can do, ma’am. Potions is the profession I’m hoping.”

“Mara, thankee for answering my prayers then. No backstabbing, no stealing from mothers with kids, no stealing from each other, no stealing from the cargo.” The Captain began, her finger tapping one of the spurs with each point.

Kirsty wondered about the situations that had made each of these rules necessary. As she watched, the Captain began to be surrounded by the Devil’s fire, or as something speaking in Kirsty’s gut inferred, “Mara’s Mantle.” Her voice took on a hard tone that she knew well, though the woman’s voice still underlay it and twined with the new tones.

“If you catch one of the crew forcing a man or a woman in an indecent way do whatever you think best but let me know.” The tall woman continued from her wheel, still holding course.

Kirsty grimaced and nodded, her stomach clenching and the blood dropping a bit to her feet.

“We keep the ship’s secrets, and the secrets of the crew. I expect you will understand that one just as easy, girl. Also, unlike some crews there is no voting for a new captain, even if I die. This ship belongs to Mara herself, no matter who I work for. I am the final authority here.” The woman stomped, her boot speaking against the deck and the boat giving off a cry of it’s own through the whole of it.

The rest of the crew could not hear their conversation, but their voices rose in answer to the ship’s voice. They all could guess easily enough. Kirsty was not certain if it was the woman speaking, or Mara’s overshadowing speaking regarding authority.

“Finally, our deity is Mara, and the Weisse Frau, of course. I don’t care what deity you pray to personally, but while serving here we all belong to her, and a bit to her sister. Understood?”

“Yes’m. I swear to these, then. I was already Mara’s, although I do not know if I know the Weisse Frau.” The cape seemed to weigh more on Kirsty’s shoulders and work teeth into her. She shuddered, the form too close to the phantom shark bite she had received during a long ago choir class.

She could not hold back the scream as her hands flew to the site of the new bite in progress, her eyes widening and then clamping in pain. The Captain studied her a moment, the flares rising from Kirsty just as they rose from her own hands gripping the wheel.

“A Mara priestess then, you didn’t say that. Even more helpful. Sing us safe passage, my route has changed.” A grim smile danced across the Captain’s face, lit by the lightning from the now much closer storm. “Kara, lash her good and tight there, so we won’t lose her.”

The Captain indicated the bannister between the poop and main decks. Kirsty noticed the railings were sturdier than other craft she’d seen records of for the era. One of the uprights was even stronger and more ornate than the rest, exuding a sense of power and connection. The sounds of crew and storm faded.

Kara wasted no time in following orders and securing her. Kirsty did not fight, there would be no sense in it with the situation. As the rope wound and tightened she felt her consciousness pulled into the ship, joining with the consciousness it already help. The ship pressed at her mind, probing, searching. Kirsty’s hands, though her arms were left loose of her bonds, found her fingers lacing with unseen appendages. It felt as if the spectral hands formed and held based on the shape of her own.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

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Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 28
Chapter 12 part
not titled yet

Kirsty eventually fell into a stupor, laying down on her side right there on the floor of the depths. She’d been on the move for so long, then there was the fighting against what had turned out to be a spell from a rival. “So much for selkies having only weak magic, you elitist sods,” she thought bitterly in the direction of every person she’d ever heard utter their speciesist drivel. Then there was the fight against the spellcaster, and who knew what she was learning of dark magic whispered to her by Astereth. On top of that there was the strain on her mind with slipping back and forth between times. She should never have listened to the Spiralis snake and strained ahead more than she already had been.

Sleep. The arms of sleep and the soothing siren song was what she needed to allow body, mind, and soul to knit. Something in her had activated when her heart was touched by Mara’s spear, but finding out what exactly it was could wait.

Sleep. The word pounded through her with the rhythm of tide and moon. It pulled at her, fogging her mind until all was dark, even though it already was so, save for the places glowing with their phosphorescence. Only those of the temple monitoring her progress would be able to know for how long she slept like that, and even then their kenning would not be accurate due to the way time worked on the Maze and the Initiatory Tests.

Sleep. The command continued long after she had finally lost the battle against it. With the stilling of her body her mind and soul turned focus on the inner work that needed doing. Desperately she grasped and grappled with the things knocked loose inside herself. Weaving and knitting, knotting and plying repairs were made.

Meanwhile something else went on. Between the relaxed fingers webbing wove, born of the gossamer threads pulled from herself. Sleeping fingers danced through long practiced gesticulations, conjuring and knotting netting unlike any of rope she’d previously made at lochside or seaside. They had so long practiced these knots that they worked easily even in her sleep.

Kirsty’s awareness drifted in sweet velvet nothing for a time healing before she heard voices. First those of her mother and Mara, urgent whispers as they sought a way through an unknown force, then the moon shone on Mara’s stricken face. Tear salt tracked her cheeks with their crusty sheen as more tears slid down their tracks, Etain clutched tightly in her arms where she stood before a somber veil blowing in a breeze that touched neither selkie nor goddess.

She called, of course she did. Whether Kirsty was heard by them was another story, but perhaps... Why was she seeing them through the gate the veil guarded? She reached out to touch the gate, but the burning chill was as if she were somewhere between trackless stars and back in the arctic winter all at once. It suited the stone room that choked around her.

The scene changed. Suddenly Ven’thrith was at her side and they were both standing on some rocks, white cloak of dreaming and insanity covering them both. The gate had moved. If the moon deity knew she was there Kirsty couldn’t tell. He, and he was definitely male this time instead of female or that hemaphroditic form he also used, was more focused on peering through the gate and clenching his fists. “They’ll be here soon, Mara, I’m sure of it.”

“Good. See where your meddling has brought us this time.”

“Not every plan of mine to make things better can work as planned, I am the moon, here...”

“Yes, yes. Cyclically fickle and as difficult to have any time with as Herne. How long do you think? Feeding Etain is creating quite the drain, more than I’d have expected. I’ve not done this in awhile, like this.”

“I’m sorry. It shouldn’t be long. Mimir will be guiding Finnol, and with the true figurehead that should give us just enough to pull her back through.”

Mara sighed, slumped, nodded. Ven’thrith laid his hands on either side of the gate and pressed forward. Kirsty realized then that she had never seen either of them at the sizes they were. He spanned it, and her mother looked like a child of moonlight cradled in the arms of the sea goddess, her dress lapping and crashing around the slight frame and her mother herself nude save for the bit of fur and the goddess’ cloak tucked over her. “I just hope he gets here in time. Seven tears can’t call a selkie back from this side of the veil anymore... not all the time.”

“No,” Ven’thrith smiled, the light of the moon just beginning to wax from him again. “But do you hear that my dear? I believe I hear someone stirring, though what he’s up to I can’t say. Something’s happened to allow him to act or send someone though.”

The wind brought from land the sounds of hooves, a horn Kirsty recognized well, the baying of dogs, and the calls of wolves. Her heart leapt at the sounds of the Wild Hunt.

“And how do we know we don’t just hear young Valnarius completing his own initiations and earning his place?”

“Perhaps, but this feels different. That is soon, but not yet. I’ve been looking forward to watching his own trials and seeing if he does earn a proper place.” Ven’thrith giggled, the sound clashing with the sturdiness of his frame. “I’d like to think that Astereth finally tripped up again.”

“I won’t hold that hope. I just want him gone from our realms for good this time.” Mara turned her head and spat.

The visions faded and the velvet returned, this time with silk drawing over her face, then around her like the winding sheet she knew one day she would be given. She dreaded it kissing her mother. At some point the now finished net, gleaming silver and gold with the enchantments and soulstuff of an apprentice priestess of the sea, had wrapped around her as her body drifted with current and tide. Her very own shroud. She drifted still in the empty sea as her consciousness returned again, the waters warm now, like a good hot bath freshly drawn.

At last, she opened her eyes.

She stifled a scream at finding herself netted yet again, and no hands on the outside to free her of the dread entanglement. Her terror rose when she recognized enspellments on the netting, tied in every knot and woven in every fiber. She reached to her belt for a stone knife to cut her way free but once her desire reached cognizance she found the gold and silver shroud falling and slipping off of her like water before she could sever even one thread.

Soon, it lay beside her, a shimmering puddle of will. Inspecting it she recognized her own work and frowned. Bundling it for transport she discovered how compact it could be and she tied this to her belt.

“Perhaps this will come in handy later. I have no memory of making this though. So, when? How?” She thought.

Kirsty focused her eyes next on smoothly worked stone walls then pushed herself up. Water lapped at her tail and dripped from the ceiling. She rubbed her eyes and blinked, but the worked stone still greeted her eyes.

She gave herself a good rake with her claws on what would have been her thigh, stifled a yelp, and flopped back down unceremoniously to look about from that ungainly angle, trying to figure out how she could have made her way here when the last she remembered was being unable to continue swimming far in the deeps.

Absolutely nothing greeted her inquiries save the lapping of the tide and the dripping further into the worked room.

“Mara’s fins...” she grumbled and pulled herself further up the shore. Her stomach growled, demanding filling and uncaring that its protests might attract something that ate beached selkies.

Kirsty grimaced, looking even more carefully for something that might be hungry, even though she was pretty sure this ordeal was shaving off all the lovely padding she’d been working so hard on putting on in preparation for the trek.

Nothing came, and the only routes available to her seemed to be forward into the dry cave, or backward into the water. If she had drifted in her sleep though it was no telling where the turns in the maze were, and the further she wound in the less she understood about how it worked.

She dragged herself further up the smooth beach, grateful to not have her underbelly raked by rough rocks. How soon would the paste wear off? She’d not had to take any for a very long time now.

Hopefully she’d not overdosed and become stuck this way. Then she’d need a skin even more just to be able to walk. “That would definitely be under ‘things never to tell David, ever.’” Kirsty thought to herself as she flopped down to rest and wait.

Idly, she traced her fingers over the crescent mark that Ven’thrith had left on her when inside The Lady’s well, focusing on what it had been like to have two legs and hoping that this would speed the hoped for transformation.

After what seemed to be an eternity of heartbeats she felt the tingling spreading over her body and the familiar searing splitting up her tail and bones shifting. She burned as her fur retreated and thinned, until at last her half pelt covered her from thigh to near the shoulder again, noting that it seemed to cover less area than the last time she had been in her birth form.

Several tentative steps later she was making her way through the dry passage.

Thank you for reading along with the webnovel version of this book. This has gone up on the Web Fiction Guide, so reviews of the current story developing are welcome, as are votes.

Donate Here via Paypal

Or you can become a monthly patron through Patreon!

Crossposts: http://rainstardragon.livejournal.com/1133947.html

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THG StarDragon Publishing

November 2024

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Page Summary

Selkies' Skins 2: Chapter 23a (The Serpent's Knot)
Selkies' Skins 2: Chapter 22 (Sea Unicorn)
Selkies' Skins 2: Chapter 21b (Whale Graveyard)
Selkies' Skins 2: Chapter 21a (Whale Graveyard)
Selkies' Skins 2: Chapter 20
Selkies' Skins 2: Chapter 19
Selkies' Skins 2: Chapter 18
Selkies' Skins 2: Chapter 17 part f
Selkies' Skins 2: Chapter 17 part e
SS2, Chapter 17 d Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
SS2, Chapter 17 b Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
Selkies' Skins 2: chapt 16b (Opening the Way)
Selkies' Skins 2, Section 2, Chapter 15bc Leviathan
Selkies' Skins 2, Section 2, Chapter 15b: Leviathan
Selkies' Skins 2, Section 2, Chapter 15a: Leviathan
Selkies' Skins 2: Chapter 13 Skinned, pt 3
Selkies' Skins 2: Chapter 13 Skinned, pt 2
Selkies' Skins 2: Section 2, Chapter 12 (part 3)
Selkies' Skins 2: Section 2, Chapter 12 (part 2)
Selkies' Skins 2: Section 2, Chapter 12 (part 1)

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Style: Sea and Salt for Nouveau Oleanders by branchandroot
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Current Projects: Selkies' Skins and Dragon Shaman

Entries tagged with kirsty

Selkies' Skins 2Section 3: EmergenceInstallment 53Chapter 23aThe Serpent's Knot (working title)

Selkies' Skins 2Section 3: EmergenceInstallment 52Chapter 22Whale GraveyardUntangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2Section 3: EmergenceInstallment 52Chapter 21bWhale GraveyardUntangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2Section 3: EmergenceInstallment 51Chapter 21aWhale GraveyardUntangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2Section 3: EmergenceInstallment 50Chapter 20The Master TomeUntangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2Section 3: EmergenceInstallment 49Chapter 19Within the Box of SoulsUntangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 48Chapter 18Untangling the Web, Shifting the VeilUntangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 47Chapter 17 (part 6)Untangling the Web, Shifting the VeilUntangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 46Chapter 17 (part 5)Untangling the Web, Shifting the VeilUntangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 45Chapter 17 (part 4)Untangling the Web, Shifting the VeilUntangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 43Chapter 17 (part 2)Untangling the Web, Shifting the VeilUntangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 41Chapter 16 (part 2)Opening the Way

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 38Chapter 15 (part 3)Leviathan

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 37Chapter 15 (part 2)Leviathan

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 36Chapter 15 (part 1)Leviathan

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 33Chapter 13 part 3Skinned

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 32Chapter 13 part 2Skinned

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 30Chapter 12 part 3finally titled: Stormsong

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 29Chapter 12 part 2finally titled: Stormsong

Selkies' Skins 2Section 2: Temple's LightInstallment 28Chapter 12 part not titled yet

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Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 53
Chapter 23a
The Serpent's Knot (working title)

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 52
Chapter 22
Whale Graveyard
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 52
Chapter 21b
Whale Graveyard
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 51
Chapter 21a
Whale Graveyard
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 50
Chapter 20
The Master Tome
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 3: Emergence
Installment 49
Chapter 19
Within the Box of Souls
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 48
Chapter 18
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 47
Chapter 17 (part 6)
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 46
Chapter 17 (part 5)
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 45
Chapter 17 (part 4)
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 43
Chapter 17 (part 2)
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil
Untangling the Web, Shifting the Veil

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 41
Chapter 16 (part 2)
Opening the Way

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 38
Chapter 15 (part 3)
Leviathan

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 37
Chapter 15 (part 2)
Leviathan

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 36
Chapter 15 (part 1)
Leviathan

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 33
Chapter 13 part 3
Skinned

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 32
Chapter 13 part 2
Skinned

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 30
Chapter 12 part 3
finally titled: Stormsong

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 29
Chapter 12 part 2
finally titled: Stormsong

Selkies' Skins 2
Section 2: Temple's Light
Installment 28
Chapter 12 part
not titled yet