Chapter Seventeen

Storm Waves

The conch blared and the Great Chief cried, “Let the dancing begin!”

I startled, looking around in confusion. Mam was there beside me, and then she was gone, swept away by Lyr. Selkies surged around me, grabbing partners, but I stood still, a rock in roiling waves, staring at my arms. The tingling was fading. I tried to hold on to it, but it was like grasping at air.

My skin was still skin.

But my pelt had to be coming now. I’d felt the Moon’s magic!

My breath came short and shallow. I tried not to panic. At least I didn’t stand out from everyone else. All around me, legs were dancing, kicking, leaping.

Of course—that was it! If the Moon changed me now, I’d be the only one not in longlimbs, still different from everyone else. I’d have had to take my pelt right off again. No, my pelt would be waiting for me in the cave, and the cave was sealed until daybreak.

Finn’s hand clasped mine. “Grab on, it’s the storm dance!” he cried, pulling me into a quickly moving line. The selkie at the head half ran, half danced, and the pattern passed from hand to hand so we were whipping along in his wake—a ribbon of dancers, cresting and falling like waves.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Finn shouted over the music.

My feet stepped higher, lighter. Maybe waiting wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Finn leaned closer. “You’ll never believe what my chief said.”

“What?”

“He said that your father—”

The line of dancers snapped back and forth, and I struggled to stay on my feet. Someone grabbed my other hand.

I raised my voice above the roar. “What about my father?”

“Brehan said he was human. I said that was madness!”

“No, it’s true.”

“It is?” He stared at me wide-eyed. “He was?”

How could I explain it to him here? I needed to take him somewhere quiet, just the two of us, so I could find the words. How my father wasn’t a selkie, but it didn’t matter, because I’d be in sealform before the rites were over. But the music grew faster and the dance’s waves wilder, and I couldn’t pull my hands away.

Finn shouted, “He said you’re human, too.”

“No, I’m going to turn!”

“Wind waves!” called the leader, as quick curves pulsed down the line. The rocks echoed back music and laughter and the drumbeat of pounding feet. We were nearing the Spire.

“That’s what I told him,” said Finn. “But he said to look at your hair with its funny bright spots. He said to look at your eyes.”

“One is brown,” I cried. The rocks echoed back in a mocking voice: One is brown . . . brown . . . brown. . . .

“Storm waves!” called the leader. The music thundered. A towering wave of a curve was surging toward me.

Finn looked right at me. “He said you’re never going to turn, and I can’t—”

The line flung me forward, and then—snap!—our hands pulled apart. Gasps and cries and sharp peals of laughter split the air as we went flying in all directions. I tripped and tumbled across the stony ground, crashing to a stop against the Spire. A jutting ledge above me blocked the moonlight.

From beyond the gloom came ripples of happy laughter. Someone called, “Find your partners!” The rocks warped the music into something dark and jarring. I didn’t want to dance. I had to find Finn and explain.

I scooted out of my hollow and wiped the dirt from my arms. Around me, everyone was dancing in couples or small groups. At the sound of Finn’s laugh, I looked up. There he was in a circle of six, hands clasped tight, feet moving in a complicated rhythmic step I’d never learned. His face was bright with joy. And holding one of his hands was his chief.

How could I wait until daybreak? I needed my pelt now. I needed to put it on right in front of Finn and his clan.

I could almost see it: their eyes growing wide with wonder and admiration, their voices begging forgiveness. We should have known, they’d say. Of course the Moon provides for her own, on this night of all nights! I’d smile humbly as I accepted their apologies, and then Finn and I would belly-scoot into the waves, tumbling and tossing each other about, leaping in backflips. We’d spiral down to the depths, until our clan leaders slapped the surface hard with their flippers, calling us for our journeys home, and Finn would say he’d rather come with me.

It was all I could do not to run to the cave. I forced myself to sit there, rocks gouging my back, waiting for Finn to see me and come over.

One couple was dancing with such spirit, a circle of admirers had gathered to cheer them on. I saw an arm flung high, a wave of black hair flying. Then the circle shifted, revealing the pair, their faces glowing, step matching passionate step, the pull between them as strong as the tides—

It was Mam and Lyr.

I rocked, buffeted by a changing wind. I’d always been the center of Mam’s life. It didn’t need saying; it was just how it was, obvious each time the others left or an orca’s fin broke the waves. But the way she was looking at Lyr now . . .

I clenched my fists. Mam could do whatever she wanted. Come daybreak, I’d have my pelt. I’d have air in my blood to swim deep, and flippers to speed me along with the rest of the clan. She didn’t need to stay back for me.

The dance ended amid a burst of cheers. Then Mam was scanning the crowd, searching for me. I couldn’t stand the thought of her rushing over, the joy in her eyes replaced by the same questions pounding through my veins: How? When? So I stood and waved to show her I was fine, and then I disappeared into the crowd.

Cormac was talking with Finn’s chief, their heads bent close together. That meant Finn was free. I went looking for him.

The banquet was spread out on low, flat rocks. Finn was by himself, gulping down prawns.

I ran up. “There you are!”

He glanced around anxiously, grabbed my arm, and pulled me back behind a boulder.

“Listen,” he said in a hushed voice. “I’m not supposed to talk with you anymore.”

My heart plummeted.

“They say”—he paused and took a deep breath, the feelings battling across his face—“they say you’re a danger to us.”

“Why would I want to hurt you?” I said. “You’re my friend.”

“It’s not that you’d want to. You couldn’t help it. You’d draw attention and make humans notice us. They’d see we aren’t seals. They’d catch us and put us in zoos.”

“In what?”

“Zoos. That’s where humans trap you in a metal cage so they can stare at you. One of the elders lived on land for a while and he told us about zoos, and circuses, where they make you do stupid tricks to entertain them. We’d see humans coming and be trying to swim away and you couldn’t keep up.”

I tried to answer, but all I could do was shake my head, harder and harder.

“Maybe I’d stay behind to help you,” Finn went on. “That’s what you do for a friend, and then I’d get caught. It’s too risky. And it’s not just humans. What about orcas, and great whites? Sometimes you only have a whisker’s advantage when they’re on your tail. You’d be so slow with your splashing—”

“I don’t splash!” My voice was too sharp. “And besides, it doesn’t matter, because I’m turning. That’s why I’m here!”

“They say . . .” He stopped all of a sudden. Pity washed across his face like a swirl of white foam.

I wanted to leave then, run away across the crags, as far as I could go. But I couldn’t help myself. “What”—the words came out all twisted—“what do they say?”

He answered so softly, I strained to hear him. “Not everyone turns, you know.”

Something snapped in me. My arm shot out and I shoved him back a step. “I’m getting my pelt!”

“Not if the human half is stronger. Some of your kind never turn. They’re stuck forever in that—”

This time I shoved him so hard he fell to the ground, and then I was on top of him, my fist raised to strike. He rolled us over, gripping my arms, trying to pin me down. I jerked free and slammed him backward across the boulders, sending prawns and squid flying, and then we were on our feet, careening into the rocks, fists flailing—

A hand reached between us and grabbed Finn.

“What did I tell you?” It was Brehan, his face dark with anger. “That one’s nothing but trouble.”

I stumbled to my feet, my chest heaving. “But we didn’t mean to—”

“And on Moon Day, too,” he went on, ignoring me.

That broad hand clamped down on Finn’s shoulder, leading him away.