The Sea Thief

Chapter III

Tora didn't sleep well that night.

All she could think about was Emil Blacach and his stupid, ugly grin. Even the bed of kelp beneath her felt all wrong – the wetness of it reminded her too much of Emil's slimy fingers, and the sour smell of fish was almost as bad as his breath had been.

Tora swore as she turned herself over.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

If she hadn't left the spear on the shores of the human land, this would never have happened. Emil would never have found it, he would never have shoved her against the wall, he would never have reminded her that she couldn't even catch a Lavellan – a rat.

At some point during the night, Tora heard her parents stumble into the hut. She smelt the metal and ash along their skin as they curled up beside her and the twins.

"Are you awake, Tora?"

Upon hearing her mama's voice, Tora cracked an eyelid open. "Why would anyone be awake at this ungodly hour of the night?"

"Of the morning," her mama corrected. "It's already sunrise."

Sunrise? Already?

Tora didn't bother glancing out the window. She knew that there would be darkness outside – a damp, musty, and thick blanket of darkness. After all, they did live behind a waterfall – whether it was morning or night, it was always as dark as a midwinter night inside their cavern.

But, behind the roar of the waterfall, Tora could hear the hungry cries of the gulls and the distant hum of some fisherman's tune.

Which could only mean that the sun was up and splashing the sky with reds, pinks and golds.

Tora buried her head into the kelp.

She had stayed up all night thinking about a rat.

"Tora?"

"Yes, Mama?"

"What happened to your lip?"

Tora didn't know how her mother had seen the dried blood on her lip. Their hut was so dark that all the clay walls and stone lumps seemed to be etched in charcoal.

"Well?"

"A shark got in the way of my loot," Tora lied, turning away from her mother. Her gaze landed on her papa, who was already snoring, the twins bundled in his arms.

They were all so tired. Papa and Mama, from spending all day and night clanking away at the forge, and her sisters, from spending each hour of the morning learning to hunt, stalk and kill with the other young Selkies.

And here she was. A fraud.

"Your father and I are so proud of you," Mama said. "We're so, so proud of you."

Each word felt like a stab to Tora's heart.

They were only proud because they didn't know the truth.

"We wish we could do some of the hunting ourselves," Mama rattled on, "but the forge is always so busy..."

"I know."

"And the problem with spears is that, sometimes, when you throw them, you can't get them back, so we just keep making more..."

"I know."

Mama rubbed at her eyes and smiled weakly. "Once the hunters stop killing us for our coats, we'll be okay. We won't have to keep making spears. We can start hunting as a family again."