Where the Kelpies Swim
By Sherri Cook Woosley
Across the bay, the herd of water horses galloped straight from their island into the waves, fearless. Muscles bunched under smooth skin, sharp teeth bared in eagerness, fins fluttered along their legs. Watching the animals made Hali’s chest ache with longing. Jealousy and admiration twined together inside her. They were so beautiful and fierce and she…was not. Soon only their heads and necks were visible; the kelpies had started their Annual Swim from Nursery Island to the main barrier island. Each mare had a smaller yearling swimming beside her. One Johnnie – soldiers who rode the kelpies against the sea monsters who lived beyond the islands – led the herd on a black stallion and another on a black-and-white paint brought up the rear. The Johnnies ignored the audience watching from the beach. They always did. Even though they fought to keep the Mainlanders safe, no Mainlanders were allowed on the Barrier Islands that stretched across the mouth of the wide bay. Occasionally, the news networks tried to send a journalist to investigate the rumors of telepathic bonds between the riders and their kelpies. The Johnnies never let the journalists dock, though, and no Mainlander wanted to be floating indefinitely in the water where every moment that passed brought a higher chance of a sea-monster attack. Hali shivered at the thought.
Tourists crowded the beach to watch the Swim and one of them elbowed Hali in the ribs. She frowned up at him, knowing he wouldn’t pay attention. She was small for her age, sixteen, with average brown hair and plain features. More than that, she wore the uniform of a resort worker. That made her invisible to the tourists – until they needed their drink refreshed.
Hali shifted in the crowd to see better. The water horses were all different shades: bays and chestnuts, grays and paints. As the Swim reached the halfway mark, the herd passed in front of the beach. Water smacked and splashed as the horses’ heads jutted forward in rhythm, their limbs churning underneath the water and creating a white froth. In front, the black stallion’s mane cascaded down like wild, tangled seaweed. He lifted his head and nickered a challenge into the air. His rider rubbed his neck in a familiar motion and a flicker lit up along the stallion’s neck in faint runes. The Mainlander crowd exhaled in a mix of envy and yearning. Gradually Hali recognized a familiar buzzing sound from above the crowd. A network drone hovered as it recorded the Swim. Suddenly the drone darted forward over the water toward the herd. Someone nearby gasped. Whoever was directing the drone was breaking the unspoken rule that defined the space between Johnnies and Mainlanders. A tourist pushed back his hat and said, “That’s going to be the shot on all the networks.”
The drone flew closer to the herd until it hovered over the waves a hands-width from the churning water. Startled, the mares shied away from the drone and its strange noise, switching into a protective mode and pushing their foals to a safe distance. One mare’s eyes rolled as she attempted to rear in the water and instead swam into another mare causing that mare to nip at the original kelpie’s flank. The rear Johnnie glared at the tourists on the beach, eyebrows furrowed over her blue eyes. Without any command that Hali could see, the Johnnie’s paint kelpie launched from the water, her mouth opened wide to expose large, pointed teeth. Teeth that belonged to a predator. She crunched the drone between her jaws, dragging it down as she submerged. A moment later the Johnnie and the kelpie emerged, water sluicing off as both shook their heads. Excited screams erupted along the beach. Some people even clapped at the spectacle. Without a backwards glance at the tourists, the rear rider swam to catch up to the scattered herd.
As far as the tourists were concerned, the Annual Swim was over. Music blasted from speakers set up at the corner of Dearie’s restaurant, the place where Hali worked. The smells of grilled meat and fruity drinks drifted into the air. No one watched the water horses anymore; instead, the tourists would return to their homes talking about the vicious, unruly creatures. Heart thumping, Hali pushed through the edges of the crowd and walked south along the beach toward the driftwood that marked the edge of restaurant territory. Finding a larger piece, Hali settled on the driftwood. She, at least, would watch the end of the Swim.
As if in answer, a beep on her wrist comm followed by a mild shock pulse informed her she was late for work. The comm, obviously, was the cheap version. Two prongs went straight down from the interface into Hali’s arm between radius and ulna and a two-inch-long “tail” underneath inserted into the skin and pointed toward the elbow. Scars had formed years ago, securing it into position. Hali grimaced. If she didn’t hurry, her foster mother, Dearie, would increase the electric charge. The Swim attracted a brace of tourists from inland and Dearie counted on the tourists to spend enough for the restaurant to make it through the rest of the year.
Ignoring the comm for a moment, Hali squinted at the largest island. The black stallion emerged onto sand at the mouth of a steep-walled canyon and most of the herd followed, but some kelpies were still circling, looking for their foals. After the drone incident, the orderly pairs of mothers and foals had turned into one overlapping group. As mothers found their foals, they left the water. More Johnnies in their distinctive waterproof brown riding jackets appeared from a gap in the canyon wall to help move the kelpies inland. Hali counted the bobbing heads still in the water. Then, confused, she counted again. It shouldn’t be an odd number.
Waves splashed against the beach near Hali’s driftwood as if something thrashed in the water. An instinctive ripple of fear shot from Hali’s heart to stomach. Mainlanders were taught to stay away from the water and shown grainy photos of the sea monsters. Nicknamed “unseels,” shorthand for “undersea eels,” they were long – sometimes 20 feet – round, with a membraned dorsal fin, and blind because they lived deep in the ocean. Instead of sight, they depended on sensitivity to the smell of blood in the water to fix on their prey. They attacked from under the water or thrust their long bodies onto land, latched onto prey, and dragged the animal or person back down into the water. The long net, final line of defense between islands and mainland, had to be lowered for the Annual Swim. Red lights now blinked on each mast at the ends of the net as warning for humans not to enter the water.
Had an unseel come in? Or…Hali shaded her eyes.
There! A little white head bobbed in the breakers near the sandbar. Nostrils tinted a delicate pink flared with heavy breathing. One small hoof broke the surface and then the other. The foal must have gotten separated in the chaos with the drone. It was panicking, using up all its strength to stay afloat.
“Hey,” Hali yelled. She climbed on the driftwood and waved her arms for attention from the Johnnies. “Back here!”
Bass thumped through the music speakers. No one on the beach could hear her, so there was no way anyone across the bay would be able to. They were too far away.
Riders and water horses were tiny, distant figures, but one kelpie stayed in the surf. The grey mare with white spots and dark mane and tail ran back and forth between the water and shore, screaming in defiance. The rear Johnnie and her paint drove the mare onto land, forcing her back step by step. Then they were gone.
The water horses and Riders had disappeared into the privacy of the island; they’d given up on finding the missing foal.
The yearling’s head dipped under the water.
Hali jumped down and paced the shoreline. “Come on,” she begged the deity of fortune. “Lady Moon, please help.”
Another shock, stronger this time, ripped through Hali’s arm from the wrist comm. The comm held all the information of Hali’s life: how long she slept, where she was, how much money she still owed to Dearie on her contract. Hali tapped the sensor so it would read her location. That should turn off the alarm for a moment, but Dearie would take away pay since she was supposed to be working.
The foal still hadn’t emerged from the water, and she was the only one who knew it was drowning. Regardless of the danger of giant eels, Hali plunged into the water. It was cold; the current that prompted the kelpies to swim came from beyond the archipelago. Hali swam forward, trying to coordinate her limbs and her breath, and paused to tread water. There were pools on the mainland – safe places to play in the water, but never this openness. Never the reality that she wouldn’t be able to touch the ground. And she’d covered such a short distance. There was no bobbing white head. There was nothing out here.
Who am I to think I can rescue a kelpie? Even the Johnnies gave up and they know more about kelpies than I do. A painful current ran from her wrist comm straight up her spine and into her brain, causing an immediate headache. Spots danced in her vision. Dearie was not happy. Then, underneath the artificial headache, came an overwhelming sense of fear and desperation. It bypassed all rational thought, and Hali reacted.
Once again she windmilled her arms through the water and kicked toward the sandbar. No more thoughts of giving up. She needed to help, needed to get to the source of those feelings.
Her feet hit the sandbar even as a thick body in the water barreled into her so they both did a somersault in the water. Reaching out, blinded by the saltwater, Hali felt the solid body of the foal. A spindly leg that looked fragile was still strong enough to strike her and Hali’s mouth opened and she choked on saltwater. Bending her knees and pushing off the sand, Hali propelled to the surface and sucked in a breath, one hand still on the foal. Standing on the sandbar with feet spread for stability, Hali moved her hand up the foal’s neck to underneath the jaw, being careful of the sharp teeth, and lifted the head from the water.
The foal, scared, didn’t seem to realize he could breathe at first. How did she know it was a he? Yet, she was certain.
“Calm down with those legs,” she said. “You already got me once.”
His right eye, a watery shade of gray, rolled to look at her and everything seemed to stop. He was perfect. Up close his coat was pale gray with a hint of future spots. His velvet muzzle fit into the curve of her palm, his shoulders bunched as he moved his legs, and his dark mane grew along his neck in rebellious tufts rather than classic waves. On land his head would reach her chest. That’s why she could stand on the sandbar and he couldn’t.
A sense of approval washed through her. Gratitude and then so much joy that Hali whimpered with the shock. No one had ever loved her so completely. Somehow, she was communicating with the kelpie, the way the Johnnies did.
Helpless to resist, Hali laughed with joy.
“Ghost. That’s what I’m going to call you. Is that okay?”
Questioning.
“You’re like me. We’re invisible to most people.” She tilted her head as she remembered the pacing mare. “But you have someone special and I’m going to get you back to her.”
She rubbed along his neck the way she’d seen the Johnnie do. There was a slight tingle – not like the shock that a wrist comm gave, but like a feather brushing over sensitive skin. She had no idea if it would work, but she pictured them standing on shore, together. “I’ll be right beside you.”
Hali touched Ghost’s shoulder with one hand and stepped off the sandbar. Adrenaline gave her a burst of energy and Hali modified a side stroke so she and Ghost wouldn’t be separated. Waves pushed them from behind and then pulled at their progress, but touching Ghost kept Hali focused. He needed her.
Soon Ghost’s hooves struck sand and he dug in and forward, one last push onto the mainland. Hali glanced toward the beach party, but no had even noticed their struggle. She could have drowned and only Dearie would notice when she didn’t show up for work. Pushing those thoughts away in lieu of being grateful that they didn’t have an audience, Hali urged Ghost toward the trees.
The colt hung his head. His legs trembled with exhaustion.
“Come on,” she said, firm. “No drone is catching sight of you.”
Stumbling, Ghost followed her into the trees. His absolute trust made Hali’s eyes fill with tears. How could she love him so much already? They moved along a path she’d made years ago. The tourists all stayed at the resorts and all the workers went to other resorts to blow off steam before returning to their own. So this isolated area had become a refuge. She brought Ghost to a lean-to made of three wooden shipping pallets against three sturdy pine trunks.
Ghost’s legs folded and he slumped to the ground. His eyes closed. Hali stroked his shoulder, no longer even worrying about his sharp teeth, but he didn’t move. Poor baby wasn’t waking up for anything.
Hali grabbed a blanket from inside the lean-to and tucked it around the kelpie. As she leaned close to Ghost, she caught a whiff of something sweet. She leaned closer. He smelled warm and a little salty and a little musty like dried summer grass.
Hali broke into a jog, backtracking to the beach so no one wondered why she was coming from the trees. At the largest palm tree Hali slowed down, pressed a hand to the cramp in her side, and veered into Dearie’s hotel grounds, resting against the stack of boats and kayaks. It was locked because the nets were down for the Swim. When the nets were up then tourists could paddle around between the surf and the sandbar. If the nets were breached by sea monsters, then the Johnnies would sound an alarm. There would, theoretically, be time to get to safety. Once it would have been unthinkable to go in the water for recreation, but it had been so many years since the nets had been breached that more tourists had grown bold.
A sudden thought made Hali twist around. The lights on the masts still glowed red. The nets were still down. That meant the sea monsters could attack. It meant the Johnnies were still hoping the foal could make it home. Back to his mother. Hali nodded. She was going to make that miracle come true.
“Hey, Moonface! You’re late,” Roni said, hands on hips. Two years older than Hali, Roni was Dearie’s favorite foster. Tonight, she wore a flattering one-shoulder romper. “And why are you wet?”
“I –” Hali searched for anything to say. “I thought if I could get the drone then I could sell it back to the networks for a fortune. I’d be able to pay off my entire contract to Dearie.”
“You’re an idiot, but that’s not a terrible idea.” Roni held up the keys attached to her belt. “I’m the assistant tonight so I’ll take your fine. One month’s wages.”
“A whole month?” Hali’s stomach dropped. She’d been paying her contract since she was eight years old and was on target to finish on her 17th birthday.
“Then, you’ll pull out all the tables and chairs yourself.” Roni tilted her head towards Dearie’s form moving among the tables of tourists. “Or I’ll tell Dearie about your stupid swim. She’ll shock you so hard you pass out.”
Hali clenched her fists. It was so unfair. Another month added to working at this stupid restaurant. It didn’t matter. Hali released her fists and relaxed her shoulders. The only thing that mattered was Ghost. She had to get him home before the nets went up.
Hali lifted her wrist and tapped her wrist comm.
Roni’s comm beeped confirmation.
“Hope the unseels don’t eat you.” Roni called in a sweet voice as she floated toward the guests.
Hali didn’t mind doing the tables. She didn’t interact with the tourists particularly well because she didn’t understand all the social cues that seemed to come to others naturally. She missed out on tourist tips, but tonight it gave her a chance to sneak away. After setting the last chair into place, Hali faced the resort.
While the sun set in brilliant peach and mauve, Roni lit the tiki torches against the darkness. Near the pool cabana Dearie drank with the tourists. All attention would be on squeezing tourists for money. If everyone here passed out by dawn then it would be easy to grab a kayak. She’d need to make a rope halter for Ghost and grab a tiki torch for light. Ghost would be back to his mom and she’d be back to the restaurant before anyone noticed she’d been gone.
A sudden wave of hunger made Hali double over in pain. Her muscles cramped and she pressed against her belly. An image of raw meat filled her mind.
“No, no, no.” Hali straightened and glanced around. The sensation increased. Ghost was awake and looking for her.
She sprinted for Roni. The older girl caressed a tourist’s arm, staring up at his face. He stared back, besotted, oblivious to the small bottle she poured into his drink with her other hand. Hali pressed her lips together, recognizing the medicine to help people sleep.
Sliding between the tourist and Roni, Hali pulled on Roni’s sleeve. “I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”
Roni narrowed her eyes in anger, but she laughed towards the tourist as she twisted away with Hali.
“This had better be good.” Roni pinched Hali’s arm.
“It is. This guy over there,” Hali waved her hand toward the perimeter, “says he can help me get the drone. He’ll pay to rent a kayak and I’ll take him out. If anything bad happens, you won’t be affected, but if it works, I’ll give you half. I just need the keys to the kayak.”
Hunger pangs gnawed at Hali. “And freezer.”
“Sounds like you need me more than half because I have the keys and you don’t. Seventy-five percent.” Roni’s mouth twitched. “Why are you holding your stomach like that?”
“Agreed, but I need dinner first.” Hali held out her hand. “Then I’ll go.”
“You’re so weird.” Roni shrugged. “Whatever. Both keys are on the set.”
Hali, keys secured, veered toward the tourist who was watching Roni with a worried expression. Roni stared into the distance, apparently dreaming of what she’d do with the money.
“She’ll be right back,” Hali said. The tourist didn’t look away from Roni as Hali switched their drinks and continued inside past the kitchen to the freezers.
“Hey!” One of the cooks yelled at her.
“It’s for Roni,” Hali called, waving the keys.
Scared that Ghost would appear any moment, Hali shoved raw meat into a bag and then dashed out the back door towards the kayaks stacked on the beach. Her hands shook as she twisted the key and the lock dropped to the sand.
Hali felt more than saw the pale colt hovering outside the tiki lamps.
“Come on, Lady Moon, I need a little help,” Hali prayed as she loped around the perimeter to meet the colt. Seeing her, Ghost lifted his muzzle as if to nicker a greeting, but Hali tossed a hunk of raw meat toward the kelpie. His teeth glinted in the moonlight a moment before his mouth snapped closed. A gulp and the meat disappeared. Red dotted his muzzle.
Happiness surged through her. Hali smiled, bemused, and glanced inside the lit area. Dearie was still drinking with the tourists and Roni was halfway through the drink she’d medicated for her tourist. Ghost took a step toward her – or toward the sack of meat.
The net lights glowed red.
“Guess that’s your answer, Lady Moon?” Hali’s breath came fast; she had to keep control. There wasn’t going to be a better time but she wasn’t ready.
Holding the sack of meat, Hali sprinted toward the kayaks, trusting that Ghost would follow.
She tossed the sack into the bottom kayak and unthreaded the rope. Digging her heels into the loose sand she pushed the kayak off the rack towards shore. Damn, it was heavy and the rope stung her hands. Ghost wasn’t helping. He was snuffling at the kayak and trying to get the meat. He thought this was a game.
“Stop it,” she whispered. “Bad kelpie.”
If anyone in the restaurant saw, the tourists would keep Ghost from his mother. Maybe they would put him on display and sell tickets to watch him eat. Maybe the Johnnies would declare war on the mainland. Maybe they wouldn’t keep the sea eels away anymore.
Fear galvanized her. She shoved the kayak across the sand toward the water. It moved, inch by inch. Suddenly the weight lightened and Hali pitched forward onto her knees. Ghost had the rope in his mouth and backed up, pulling the kayak into the water. He didn’t understand this game, but he wanted to help.
You’re the smartest kelpie ever, she thought to Ghost.
Hali wiped her stinging hands on her shirt and jumped inside.
“Yummy dinner.” She grabbed a hunk of meat and shook it. Sticky. Very sticky. “You know I’m a vegetarian, right?”
Ghost’s hunger flared. He lifted his snout and snapped his teeth. She should be terrified of those teeth, but she was more scared of someone taking him away.
When Ghost was in the surf, Hali used the paddle to push off. Dip one side, then the other. She was going backwards into the waves in order to watch the kelpie colt swimming behind. There’d been no time to make a halter. And their guide through the water would have to be the island’s righthand mast pole for the net, which hopefully still glowed red.
Ghost swam after her. Thank you, Lady Moon, that no one at the restaurant noticed. Two more strokes and the kayak came to an abrupt stop. The sandbar. Halfway to the main island. Hali used the stop to shift position in the kayak. Now she could see the net’s light ahead, but Ghost would be behind her.
“Let’s go find your mommy,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.
The paddle slid through nerveless fingers and only the flipper’s width prevented her from losing it in the water.
Torches lit up the beach. Figures poured from Dearie’s restaurant with more torches. Feedback screamed as music was replaced by Dearie’s voice: “The girl is in a kayak. Find her, but be careful with the drone. There’s a reward if you bring them both to me.”
Hali blinked as the figures on the beach pushed kayaks and boats that she’d left unlocked into the water. Roni must have told Dearie about the made-up plan – maybe when she realized the drugged drinks had been switched or maybe immediately? Regardless, she and Ghost were now being chased by drunk tourists.
Impatient for more meat, Ghost nosed at her hand.
Stomach churning from anxiety, Hali nodded her head, though it was too dark for the kelpie to see. “It’s okay.” It was not okay, but she had to get Ghost home.
Hali focused on the Johnnie’s light and paddled toward it. So she saw immediately when it flickered green and then went back to red. What did that mean? A bitter laugh escaped. What else could go wrong?
Her comm sent a shock up her arm. Dearie was trying to pinpoint her location. If Dearie hadn’t been so drunk, she would have thought of it sooner. Panicked, Hali held the side buttons down. That turned off her comm, but Dearie would be able to override it as soon as she got into the office. What would this do to her contract? Hali wiped her left arm across her eyes. She couldn’t go back to Dearie’s, not after tonight. Hali’s breath hitched. Any minute Dearie was going to figure out exactly where she was. There was no way to keep a secret when you had a comm. She stared at the technology, familiar to her as any part of her own body. HER ENTIRE LIFE WAS ON THE COMM. And she would give it up to protect Ghost.
She bit the side strap. Her teeth worried at the material, but made no impact. Then Ghost was there, standing on the sandbar, summoned by her fear. His head butted at her and his little hoofs clunked against the kayak as he tried to get close enough. Trusting, Hali held out her wrist to a creature bred to kill unseels. His baby teeth sliced through the strap.
Scared, Hali stared as the moonlight reflected off the broken strap. She could go back and get it repaired. Nothing here that couldn’t be undone with another decade of service to some new contractor. Ghost dipped his head, trusting her to make the right decision. No other being – human or otherwise – had ever done that. Hali worked her fingers underneath the comm, closed her eyes, and pulled. The tines slid out in unhurried ease. Random electric shocks ran up her arm and made her teeth vibrate. Then, with a sucking sound, it was out. Only the tail left to go.
Hali shuddered against Ghost. He held steady, letting her lean. Her fingers couldn’t gain purchase so she used her teeth to fasten on the strap still connected to the tail. Blinded by tears, Hali gave into little moans of pain. Love and pride competed inside her – a message from Ghost. Hali wiped her nose against Ghost’s mane and then bit the strap again as she pulled her arm towards her ribcage. The tail was harder than the tines, the scar tissue unwilling to yield. Hali screamed around the bit in her mouth – the strap of the comm – but didn’t stop pulling. And when it finally yanked free, crimson flowed down her arm and she sagged against Ghost.
Ghost took the comm and bit it, letting the pieces fall into the water.
Then an image of meat popped into her mind. Hali laughed as she wiped her tears.
“Why, yes. You do get a treat for that.” Good thing she’d grabbed so much meat. At least that was going right. Hali balanced the paddle on her knees while she pulled a section apart. The paddle slipped as the kayak rocked. Were those ripples from the kayaks near shore?
“Ghost!”
She shook the meat, but the kelpie had swum away from the sandbar to face Nursery Island.
“Wrong island, buddy. We’ve gotta meet your mom and we need to hurry.”
Suddenly, an alarm split the air, shrieking across the water from the main island. The net lights blinked red, off and on. The net had been breached.
A sea monster was in the bay.
Adrenaline pumping, Hali thrust her paddle into the water but a huge wave hit from the side. Seawater soaked her clothes, drenching her hair and burning her eyes. The kayak tipped. Hali rose to her knees and grabbed onto the side, clawing for a handhold so she wouldn’t be dumped into the freezing water. The sack of meat slid down. She let go with one hand and stretched, reaching for the bag. Her fingers touched just as another wave knocked into the kayak and spun it around.
Got it! Her fingers clutched the sack.
The kayak righted and Hali held the bottom of the empty sack. She could only watch as chunks of meat descended into the water, imagine the smell diffusing and summoning.
Holy Lady Moon, what have I done?
The kayak kept rocking.
I’ve lured an unseel straight toward us.
Hali thrust her paddle into the water and shot forward toward the main island. Maybe they could make it. “Come on, Ghost!”
He continued facing away from her.
Resolution with a hint of fierce joy. A burst of love.
Hali’s chest constricted. Ghost wanted to defend her. He wasn’t going to run because he wanted to fight the unseel. That’s what he’d been bred to do, but he didn’t realize he was only a baby.
Ghost’s little white head bobbed in the moonlight, his sharp baby teeth exposed as if that would scare away the monster. Splashing in the distance as the stupid tourists reacted to the alarm.
No more good plans existed. Only one truth: she wasn’t leaving Ghost.
He lifted his muzzle and let out a coltish imitation of the black stallion’s whinny from earlier.
Hali stroked toward Ghost through the choppy water.
“I’m coming, Ghost.” She reached for his tufts of mane and patted the kayak. “Get in.” His weight would probably sink them both, but she wasn’t going to let him be attacked from below.
He tried, kicking the kayak with a hoof, but it wasn’t going to work and she wasn’t going to save him.
“I love you,” she said. One day with Ghost had been worth more than anything else in her life.
Ripples from the unseel zigzagged toward the kayak, highlighted by the moonlight.
Ghost lifted his muzzle to scream again, but it wasn’t his voice that rang out. It was a mother kelpie’s voice that shattered the moonlight as she splashed into the water from the main island.
Hali gaped as Johnnies, mounted on kelpies, charged from the island. Torches flickered into light, revealing kelpies swimming through the cold dark water in ordered ranks, splitting around her and Ghost, the charge led by Ghost’s mother.
“Get out of the way,” a Johnnie yelled as she rode past.
“Ghost! You have to get my colt.”
A different rider swam past her toward the island, the white colt across the kelpie’s haunches.
Hali followed. When the kayak hit sand, Hali stumbled out and ran to the rider, helping Ghost slide to the beach.
The alarm continued to blare, and Hali wanted to cover her ears, but instead she wrapped her arms around Ghost’s neck. A mountain of water poured down in buckets as a smooth body reared up from the water, no eyes, but a mouth opening to reveal circular rows of teeth. Kelpies spread into a defensive line while their Johnnies wielded long spears.
The unseel, spears hanging out of its body, ignored the soldiers.
“Grab the harpoon,” the rider beside Hali yelled. “The unseel has tasted blood and won’t turn.” Another Johnnie ran inland.
With a giant splash, the unseel bellyflopped into the water, its back fin headed straight toward the island. Its long, streamlined body outpaced the chasing kelpies.
The rider grabbed Hali’s arm and pulled her, holding onto Ghost, up the beach until their backs were against the rocky wall of the canyon.
The unseel rose straight up from the water, weaving back and forth like a snake, and then flung its body into the sand, mouth gaping open only a few feet from the rider, Hali, and Ghost. Hot, fetid breath covered them. They were trapped. Each tooth was as long as Hali’s forearm; they shined like daggers in the mix of moonlight and torches.
Rocks cut Hali’s back as she pressed back and her hands dug into Ghost’s mane. The Johnnie pulled out a saber, but the blade was the same length as the unseel’s tooth.
Ghost screamed a challenge again.
A metallic clanging from the side suggested the harpoon was being adjusted, but it would be too late to keep the unseel away from Ghost. They needed more time.
The unseel surged forward, but Hali pushed herself away from the wall, arms outstretched. “Hey, Moonface!”
Teeth ripped into her right arm. The bone snapped. Hali was lifted off her feet, body hanging from the unseel until it shook its head. Hali’s flesh ripped and she fell to the sand, hard.
Pain exploded. Hali screamed, grabbing her mutilated arm with her left hand and writhing in the sand. Fire spread from her ruined arm to her chest, to her stomach. Panic. She couldn’t see, couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t breathe from the impact.
And then a different warmth was there. Ghost. Pain still burned, panic still lodged in her throat; but, somehow, he filtered them.
The eel reared to the side, shaking back and forth.
There was a break in the canyon wall – entrance to the Johnnie’s stronghold. She had to crawl there.
With a whoosh, the harpoon launched.
The unseel shook itself again and then curved around to bite at its own body.
The distraction gave enough time for the herd of kelpies to surge from the sea, the water horses biting at the eel, tearing away flesh with their own predator’s teeth, and finishing the kill. Slowly, too slowly, the unseel uncurved and its mouth hit the sand, jaw opening on impact to release the body of a grey mare with white spots and a dark mane and tail. Her teeth were flecked with blood and flesh, clenched around the dorsal fin like an enemy’s banner.
She’d attacked from behind. That’s why the eel had curved away. That’s why Hali had been dropped. The mare’s attack had saved their group.
The Johnnie thrust her saber into the scabbard. “Close the nets,” she yelled. Then she pivoted to stare down at Hali. “You. Start explaining.” It was the rear rider – the one who been so disdainful toward Mainlanders.
“Ghost got left behind,” Hali said, as cold spread through her body. The sand had turned into a pillow and she was melting into it. Was this shock? Ghost nosed her side in concern. “I tried to bring him back. Everything is my fault.”
Riders moved along the beach pulling spears from the eel while the kelpies formed a circle around the dead mare. Ghost’s mother.
“This young woman, Cavalier Felis, saved one of our colts.” New torchlight revealed an older man approaching. Overgrown eyebrows shadowed kind eyes. “And, unless I’m wrong, she imprinted with him.”
“No,” Felis said, folding her arms. “Mainlanders can’t imprint.” She added, “Doctor Dramock.”
“Perhaps we should ask – did you say ‘Ghost’ – what he thinks.” Dramock rubbed Ghost’s neck in a complicated pattern.
Runes glowed in blue swirls. Emotions pulsed through Hali: acceptance, trust, and love.
“Impossible.” Felis sputtered in outrage. “That would change everything.”
“Perhaps it’s time.” Dramock knelt beside Hali and pushed something against her neck. Sensation and then relief. “This will help, but you need surgery.”
Hali’s teeth chattered, but she managed: “Ghost’s mother died because of me.”
“Ghost’s mother died because she is a soldier and a sea monster attacked. She protected her colt and the humans around him. We will accord her the highest honor at a bonfire at the next full moon.” He glanced up. “Indeed, the ripples of tonight will have many effects.”
As Dramock readied the stretcher, Felis stalked into the darkness. Other riders walked past into the canyon, but the kelpies crooned over their lost comrade, sad, shifting tones that plucked Hali’s heart. Ghost pushed forward into the herd; the kelpies greeted him with their noses. Hali closed her eyes as the song from the water horses rose to the moon in tribute and memorial.
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Sherri Cook Woosley holds a master’s degree in English Literature with a focus on comparative mythology from the University of Maryland. She’s a SFWA member, and her short fiction has recently been published in O+E Unbound, Dark Cheer: Cryptids Emerging – Blue Volume, and Musings of the Muses. Her debut novel, WALKING THROUGH FIRE (Talos Press, 2018), was long-listed for both the Booknest Debut Novel award and nominated for Baltimore’s Best 2019 and 2020 in the novel category. Her first children’s book, Postcards from a City of Monsters was published by Improbable Press in August, 2024 while her speculative mystery novelette Mother’s Instinct was released by E-spec books in fall 2024. Find her online at www.tasteofsherri.com
