Children of the Sea 03 - Sea Lord

pulled the overworked muscles of her thighs, eased the tightness in her hamstrings. The sun poured down like honey, edging the shadows. The breeze carried the faintest trace of smoke from this morning’s fires.
    “So you need somebody with you?” she asked.
    Iestyn nodded. “It helps for the Change. And after. The pull of the sea is strong and hard to break. You need a guide with you the first time out, to help you find your way back.”
    “And without a guide?”
    He shrugged again. “You stay beneath the wave. Forever, maybe. Unless it occurs to you to come ashore.”
    She tried to guess what would bring a selkie ashore. “Like for food?”
    “Er.” Iestyn’s face reddened. “For sex, mostly.”
    “Oh.” She swallowed. Of course. Her own mother . . . And Maggie . . .
    A long, low howl echoed from the rocks ahead and then another and another in an eerie chorus that quivered up her spine.
    Madadh crouched, ears flattening, hair raising along his shoulders.
    Lucy shivered. “What was that?”
    “Wolves.”
    She stopped dead. “ Wolves? ”
    Iestyn flashed her another grin, his embarrassment forgotten. “They are harmless.”
    “Harmless,” she repeated in disbelief.
    “Aye. Unless you’re a silly sheep.”
    He was plainly teasing. She didn’t care. She looked at Madadh, quivering like an arrow in a bow, and then at the track ahead, winding through the rocks. “So I’m a sheep,” she said. “Let’s go back.”
    “ Baaa, ” Iestyn said.
    She stuck out her tongue at him. They turned to begin their descent.
    And froze as a great gray wolf glided from the shadow of the rocks and blocked their way.
    Madadh whimpered.
    Iestyn paled. “Shit.”
    Fear raked claws down Lucy’s throat. “You said the wolves were harmless.”
    “They are.” Iestyn reached down cautiously, never taking his eyes from the wolf, and drew a long black knife like Conn’s from a sheath at his knee. “These are not wolves. Not anymore.”
    Oh, God.
    She worked moisture into her mouth. “What—”
    “Demons.”
    Panic, blinding, bright, went off in her head. She blinked to clear her vision and saw more shapes slinking, circling on either side, sticking close to the rocks. She clenched her empty hands.

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    “Behind me,” Iestyn ordered, his young voice strained. “Do not run. They attack from behind.”
    She stumbled to obey. Stones littered the track at her feet. She stooped, grabbing one in each hand, and faced the head of the path.
    The wolf confronting Iestyn snapped and snarled. Threatening. Testing. Lucy almost turned.
    And would have missed its two companions as they drifted into sight, silent as smoke.
    Her knees shook. Her arms trembled. Madadh growled low in his throat.
    Iestyn shouted. “Go! I command you!”
    The wolves in front of Lucy bared their teeth, laughing. Madadh bristled and shook.
    “Conn,” Lucy whispered.
    Regret opened like a chasm in her heart. Her palms were slippery with sweat. She gripped the stones tighter. She didn’t want to leave him. Not like this, with so much unspoken and unresolved between them.
    The shadow in front of her leaped. She screamed. She had a confused flash of heat, teeth, and eyes before Madadh lunged to meet it, their bodies colliding with a force that sent them rolling over the ground, jaws snapping, claws raking.
    She heard Iestyn grunt, felt him stagger behind her as he absorbed another attack. Everything was noise and fear and confusion. She threw a rock and missed. Threw another and watched it bounce uselessly off the wolf’s side. The circling wolves edged closer. Behind her, Iestyn lurched and thrust. Something warm spurted over her foot.
    She looked down. Blood.
    Madadh yelped.
    And Lucy got mad.
    Rage flooded her gut, filled her chest, flowed through her trembling legs to stiffen them. She felt it coiling, writhing and rising within her, broad, slippery ripples of fury rolling through her body to her brain, too much to control, too huge to contain. Pain knifed her brain, shards of brightness behind her eyes. Flinging out her empty arms, she shouted, “Enough!”
    The word went out from her like lightning and struck the snarling, writhing knot that was Madadh and the wolf. She heard a cry from Iestyn of pain or surprise, smelled scorched meat and burning hair, watched horrified as both animals jerked and collapsed.
    Oh, God. Oh, God. Her hands fell. Her breath