Shadows and Light

smile. “As I will it.”
    “We should get back to the ship,” Mihail said.
    “You have to wait for the tide in any case, so you may as well take a look at our ‘precious village.’ ”
    Judging by the carefully blank looks on Mihail’s and Jenny’s faces, Morag wasn’t certain they would have to wait for the tide, but she couldn’t see how they’d be able to reach their ship or get out of the harbor safely unless she was willing to gather the souls of half the village to give them a fighting chance.
    And she would never be able to justify taking so many lives—especially, she realized, when the shadows were no longer flickering on Mihail’s face.
    “Ashk,” she said softly.
    Ashk shook her head. “It’s out of our hands now.”
    They waited for Mihail’s men to return to the ship and escort the boys to their uncle. When the boys were introduced to Ashk, they bowed with great dignity, then spoiled the effect by grinning at her and asking if Evan had gotten the horse he’d wanted.
    “Yes, he did,” Ashk replied with sour amusement before mounting her horse.
    Morag mounted her dark horse while Cordell was carefully helped into the driver’s seat beside the village man who took the reins. Mihail, Jenny, and the boys climbed into the back. The crowd moved aside to let the cart pass.
    Thinking this would be a tense and futile tour, Morag got her next lesson about dealing with children in the human world.
    “Uncle Mihail,” one of the boys said excitedly. “We saw little selkies.”
    “We did!” said the other. “They were swimming around the ship.”
    “We wanted to go down to the pier so we could talk to them better, but Jenny wouldn’t let us.” He gave his aunt a dark look. “We wouldn’t have hurt anything.”
    “We pointed out the ship’s name, Sweet Selkie, that was written on the stern and told them how we got to name your ship.”
    “And they got to swim in the harbor. We didn’t get to swim in the harbor.” Wounded, mutinous looks at both aunt and uncle.
    Morag noticed how hard Ashk was pressing her lips together in an effort to keep a straight face. She noticed the way Jenny and Mihail just rolled their eyes, as if they’d heard this complaint at every port.
    And she noticed the slight shaking in the driver’s shoulders, and wondered how long the man would be able to suppress his laughter.
    “And they don’t have to go to school and have lessons,” one of the boys said.
    “Oh, but they do,” Cordell said, turning in the seat. Her eyes danced with laughter, but she kept her expression admirably serious. “For how else can a young selkie grow up to be a good selkie?”
    The boys’ mouths fell open. “They do?”
    “Of course. If they don’t learn their numbers, how can they report to the fishermen to tell them how big a school of fish is? If they don’t know compass bearings, how can they tell where the fish are? And don’t they need to learn what kinds of fish are good to eat and which should be avoided? And what is safe and what can harm them? And while it’s the bards who create the songs, if the little ones don’t learn to sing them, how will they remember who they are and where they came from? No, there’s much a little selkie has to learn.”
    That managed to silence the boys for a noticeable few seconds. Then, “But they still get to swim in the harbor when the lessons are done.”
    Cordell nodded. “There is truth in what you say, but not all of us can be selkies.”
    Before the boys could reply, Cordell began pointing out things in the village. The women in this family baked the finest bread. The men in that family tanned leather. This family did spinning and weaving. That family had skilled seamstresses and tailors. Someone else made candles. Another was the blacksmith.
    Clusters of neat cottages that continued to tug at Morag. The village just didn’t look quite ... right...
    somehow, and yet she was certain if it was in a different place, she would know why it also looked familiar.
    Then she realized Ashk was watching her as well as watching Mihail and his family’s reaction to the village.
    At the edge of the village, on a little rise of its own, they stopped at a sprawling stone building. Cordell climbed out of the cart and waved at them to join her as she walked to the wrought-iron gates.
    Following behind the rest of them, Morag walked through the wide passageway to a lovely but neglected courtyard.
    The house surrounded it except for the