Chapter Sixteen

The Moon’s Ear

I crested a final ridge and stopped, speechless. Before me, hundreds of selkies crowded into a vast hollow. The curving rock face echoed their shuffling and murmuring until it sounded like the surf far below. Above us, on a jutting ledge of rock just under the Spire, stood a broad-shouldered selkie. A white streak blazed in his hair like a bolt of lightning. That must be the Great Chief of all the clans. On a ledge below him stood the Caller, her black hair cascading to her feet.

Finn ran past me toward the group that had cheered his dive. They greeted him with hugs and exclamations over his scratched knees. I was following in his wake when a hand grabbed my shoulder.

“There you are,” cried Mam, her eyes bright with excitement.

Lyr, Maura, Mist, Cormac, Grandmam: everyone was there, looking so different in longlimbs. They shifted to make room for me in the crush.

I was turning to point out Finn when a blast from the conch made me stop.

In the sudden hush, the Caller’s clear voice filled the air:

        “Sing, O Moon, the song of the sea!

        Sing of the salt-spray, the tears, and the freedom

        Erasing the border twixt wave-foam and shoreline.

        Sweet comes the turning that sets the soul free.”

The haunting tune swept me up like a current, and then its rhythms were surging inside me. My breath rose and fell to its pulse.

The notes drifted away, and a deep voice boomed like combers crashing ashore:

“IN THE BEGINNING!”

My eyes flew up to the ledge. The lightning-haired selkie stood with his arms straight out before him, palms turned upward. I caught my breath. This wasn’t going to be anything like the warm, familiar tale I’d always known.

He raised his arms skyward, and we turned as one to face the sea. Before us was darkness. And then . . .

A single beam of light appeared at the edge of the world. It streaked across the waves toward the Spire like a brilliant, silver path. I gasped in awe.

A motion caught my eye. A tall, muscular selkie was resting his hand on Finn’s shoulder. That must be Brehan, his chief. They gazed at the horizon together, the silver light reflecting in their eyes.

Slowly, gracefully, the Moon began to rise. Around her, the air shimmered blue and green: she had donned her halo to greet us. Now we would sing and chant her to the center of the sky.

“In the beginning,” said the Great Chief, “there was the Moon. She circled a forsaken sphere of dirt and dust and rock. . . .”

The story was familiar and yet the words were new and strange. It felt like it was happening now, for the very first time: the barren Earth, the Moon’s longing. He came to the part where the Moon began to sing, and softly, as softly as a breeze, a wordless tune caressed the air. It tugged at my heart like all the hunger and heartache and joy I’d ever felt. At first I thought the Moon herself was singing. But it was the Caller, her skin white as moonlight, her hair dark as night.

As the Great Chief’s voice rolled on, I could almost feel the song tugging moisture from the air. It swirled into mist, and then rain; it fell upon the Earth. When the chief paused, I knew what to do. I’d been practicing my whole life. I chanted along with everyone else:

“Hail the rain, the blessed rain, sung by the Moon into being!”

I’d never heard it like this before. Each voice was swept up into something greater: the single voice of the selkie folk.

As the last word rang out, the Moon rose above the sea. She hovered, huge and round, waiting for us to sing her higher.

“Hail the ocean, great and gray, sung by the Moon into being!”

“The Moon wandered the vastness of space,” said the chief, and the crowd began to sway. When Mam and I told the story, the swaying was gentle and playful. But now, hundreds of selkies swayed together from side to side, and the power felt primal, remorseless. We were the waves, surging in the Moon’s wake, curving in crests and crashing in hollows, straining to hear every precious note of her song.

“Hail the wave-foam, white as first mist, sung by the Moon into being!”

We stilled, becoming as solid as rock. Now we were the islands rising from the waves. The Moon rose higher, her light filling me.

Finn looked toward me, his eyes full of the same wonder I was feeling. My hand rose in an instinctive greeting.

That’s when Finn’s chief glanced over. His brows lowered in a frown. I followed his gaze to my hand: I was still clutching the puffin feather, and it looked like I was waving it at Finn, playing during the holiest rites.

I dropped the feather in shame. The chief’s cold eyes swept over my hair, my skin. He bent to whisper in Finn’s ear.

I shivered, a leaf in a cold wind.

Then the Great Chief’s voice swept me up again. “—the shoreline, where water meets rock, where dark sea meets bright sand, where borders are constantly changing. Once more the Moon sang.”

The Caller sang one pure note, as round and shining as a pearl.

The Great Chief said softly, “As each note landed on that shimmering line, it became a selkie.” He paused, and then his voice split the air like thunder:

“WE ARE THE FOLK BORN OF THE LINE WHERE WATER MEETS THE LAND!”

Another perfect note, and another, floated down to the shore and the shimmering line of foam. The Moon was gigantic now, filling the sky. The air felt electric.

Finn and I looked up at each other at the exact same moment, as if we were connected by our own strand of moonlight. A friend, I thought, with a longing deep and true.

The hairs on my arms stood on end, as though lightning was about to strike. I looked down. My skin was glowing with silvery light.

Suddenly everyone was chanting, “Hail creation! Wave-riders, shore-striders, sung by the Moon into being!”

The Moon was right above me! This was the moment!

I raised my face and prayed silently: Please, Moon, let me live in my true form, the way I’m meant to be. Please.

The air was thick with prayers swirling upward, and my skin was still tingling. This must be how it happened! First the tingling, and then the thickening of skin into fur. I stared at my arms. Now, I thought. Now!