Page 78 of The Rake OR The Orca Who Met His Match in a Selkie Desiring Revenge

“If only I could cure you with sex, alas, it’s just not so.”

“It’s a shame, really.” Elspeth smiled, though, because while it was, finding her way out of her hurt felt at least… manageable now.

The stark cliffs ofHillskerry in the distance had always brought peace and joy to Elspeth’s heart. The waves crashing on their salt-stained sides and the barks of the seal colony in the distance were the sounds that had welcomed her home for as long as she could remember. Now though, they worried her. Those cliffs no longer represented safety for her, nor for her people. They were a prison, a cage that the Empire could use to keep them for whenever it saw fit to extract one of them at theirleisure.

She and Aegir had asked Jokith to anchor off the coast instead of in the harbor, so Elspeth and Feann would have the opportunity to see their mother before rousing the entire village.

The swim and subsequent walk up to their house from the beach was bittersweet. They passed landscapes Elspeth had sketched over and over again, the minute changes seeming insignificant now. The time that had passed had barely touched the heathered hills, though Elspeth felt like an entirely different person.

Now, she knew how wide the world was, how vulnerable they really were. But what was more, was that she knew now the pain and suffering the Empire caused. She’d experienced some of it first hand, but she’d heard more from Jokith and Aegir, and seen evidence of it in the way the people of Berggeheimnis hid from them. She loved her people, loved this island, but how could they possibly hope to protect themselves here?

Convincing the elders would take time, she knew, and deciding how to deal with the dangers even longer, but she knew she’d feel exposed here until they did.

Smoke curled from the chimney when they crested the last hill and their home came into view. Feann squeezed her hand, a silent reassurance that he was with her. The well-wornpath was slightly muddied from recent rains, and here and there shiny stones stuck out from the mud, skittering along in front of them with the slightest kick. A hastily disassembled line of washing was bundled under the porch overhang, ready to be hung back out when the sun returned.

Everything was just as it had always been, or at least it appeared at first. The washing, upon further inspection, was well past dry, and the shadows of mildew deepened each haphazard crease. The chair, which often had a half-drunk cup of tea or five sitting on the table next to it sat abandoned next to the front door. Her mother’s herb garden, once so meticulously maintained, had escaped its bed and spilled into the rest of the yard. Smoke still escaped the chimney, but it was the rail thin trail of a dying fire, not of one being maintained enough for this chill late autumn day.

Feann must have seen the signs as well, as his steps increased to match hers as they approached. Her hand hesitated on the doorknob, shaking, but Feann covered it with his and helped her turn it.

The house was darker than it should have been. It was only late afternoon, but the house’s positioning had always necessitated lighting the lanterns earlier than elsewhere. The housewas messier than their father or Elspeth would have ever allowed, with a thin layer of dust over almost everything.

Across the small room, their mother stood at the kitchen window, a tub full of washing sitting still in front of her.

“Mama?” Feann called. Thank gods he had, because Elspeth didn’t trust her own voice to work.

A dish splashed into the washtub as their mother turned around to see the pair of them. Her curly hair had escaped from its bun and surrounded her head in a haze of frizz. She looked tired, older, and the lines of her face were more pronounced as she screamed and fell to her knees.

Elspeth rushed to her, joining her on the floor, her mother’s frail hands grasping her children and pulling them to her. Heavy, wracking sobs shook them, all three of them crying there in the kitchen.

Sounds, more than words, were all that any of them could manage for a good while, though after a time Elspeth did hear the creak of Aegir settling himself into the chair out front.

Eventually, their mother’s wails resolved into words, and at first it was just the words, “my babies,” over and over again.

“We’re here,” Elspeth reassured.

“We’re safe,” Feann whispered.

“Mama, do you want to sit down?” Elspeth asked, motioning to their couch.

“Of course, of course,” their mother said, standing and smoothing her hair and skirts as if this were all entirely normal. “You must be tired, my darlings. Take a seat and I will make us some tea.”

“No, let me, my hands need to be doing something,” Elspeth said. “You sit.”

It was a testament to how worked up she was that her mother didn’t argue, and instead allowed Feann to lead her to sit on the couch.

“How—how are you here?”

“Ellie escaped, charmed a band of pirates, and roped them into a rescue, is the short of it,” Feann said. “She’s mated and we need to leave, is the long of it.”

“Goodness.”

She was silent for most of Elspeth and Feann’s recounting of the story, and for a good deal thereafter.1

“And this pirate, this orca-man and his crew are here now?” she asked.

“Yes, well, he’s waiting out front, really.”

Their mother gasped and stood up. “You’ve let me have this poor boy wait out in the weather while we blatheredon in here?”