Selkie's Inheritance
Lily
The night was alive with silver light. The moon hung swollen above the waves, its reflection broken into a thousand glittering fragments by the restless sea. James stood beside me or what remained of him—his form pale, wavering, like a shadow made of mist.
"Tonight, you will test it," he said, his voice a low hush that trembled like the tide. "Moonminding isn't a command. It isn't even singing. It is binding. You must touch the mind of the sea itself, and let it bend toward your will."
My heart hammered. "And if it doesn't listen?"
His gaze burned with something fierce. "Then you are not my daughter."
The words cut, sharp as salt in a wound. But I understood. He wasn't doubting me, he was daring me.
The sea roared louder, as though waiting. I closed my eyes. I thought of Zal, of his laughter when he destroyed, of the blood he spilled, of Miriam's empty eyes, of Elis slipping further into darkness. Rage welled up inside me; rage and love, the two tides that had shaped my entire life.
I sang.
The voice that left me wasn't only mine. It was older, deeper, woven with the echoes of a hundred lost selkies. It carried into the waves, and the sea answered. The water surged higher, rushing like veins filled with my fury. I felt it; the sharp minds of the creatures within it, schools of fish darting like sparks, dolphins leaping in sudden arcs, even the great dark shadow of something older moving in the depths. All of them turned, listening. Waiting.
"Now," James whispered, his hand trembling as though he could feel it too. "Bind them."
And I did. Not with chains. Not with force. But with the thread of my voice, spun from the moon above and the blood in my veins. They became mine, not as slaves, but as allies. As an army born of water and moonlight.
When I opened my eyes, the sea was silent, bowing to me.
For the first time, I wasn't just Lily the witch.
I was Lily the selkie.
And Zal's doom had just begun.
When James's teachings finally ebbed, I felt both heavy and light, as though the sea itself had poured into me. His voice lingered in my bones; control the waters, command with the Selkie's song, bind with the mind beneath the moon. He warned me of the last, his gaze hollow yet burning: Save Moonminding for when you face him. It will answer then, and only then.
I returned to my cabin in the woods, the air still thick with the echo of waves though the sea lay far behind. My soul sisters had marked the sign—dawn without cockcrow. That would be the day Zal's doom began. Until then, I waited.
In the hush of the night, I reached for the clone I had left behind, trying to touch her mind as one might stretch a hand through smoke. Nothing. The link was dead. Useless, I hissed to myself. Either she had been tampered with, or her time had simply run out.
My fingers brushed the charm at my neck, seeking reassurance, but it was not my necklace I sought—it was Elis's. I felt for the tether I had bound around him, fragile and stubborn. It pulsed faintly, steady as a weak heartbeat. Alive. Still alive.
"Hang in there, Elis," I whispered into the dark. "I'm coming for you soon."
The night listened, silent as a vow.