Archive of Our Own

She couldn’t read right now. Even if she could concentrate, the fog might mess up the pages of her book, and then the librarians would be mad at her again. Connie slipped it back into her backpack and sighed. She leaned over with her elbows on her knees, boots swaying over the harbor. The sea breeze and the outlines of fishing boats were her only companions; Connie couldn’t bring herself to even call them ‘friends.’

There was no more homework or studying to do, and the four-day weekend was just beginning. If she had talked to the writer’s club, she might have had somewhere to go, someone to talk to, but the whispers behind their hands told Connie all she needed to know about their inclusivity. None of the clubs had wanted her. None of the tables wanted her to eat with them. The teachers praised her, but Connie heard their pity. She was sick of pity.

The fantasy worlds felt fake again. The girl put her hands on her aching stomach as dryness filled her mouth. A new school, a new life, and everything was still so wrong. Loneliness raised the hair on her arms, chilling her with the ocean’s salty wind. The sensation wasn’t the problem for her, but rather the notion that this was her new normal. And it was horrible.

Connie didn’t bother to stop the tears this time. She took off her glasses and put them on top of her backpack, staring into the cold Atlantic sea. The foam and waves blurred together. Even alone, Connie clamped her mouth shut to stifle her sniffles and tiny sobs. The tears dripped silently into the water, one by one, a salt offering for the sea.

On another day, it would have been nice to stay here for a couple hours doing nothing. Then she could come home relaxed and hope that her parents didn’t have anything to badger her about. Today, Connie wanted someone more than anything. She knew that she’d give anything in the world for a friend.

As she sniffled, there was a splash out in the water. Connie jerked her head up to see the sleek body of some creature pass across the surface. It took her a moment to fumble for her glasses, wiping her eyes clean as she scanned the ocean. It was foggy enough to have to actually look for activity. If nothing else, Connie thought, she could pretend she found a friend in whatever fish or small whale passed by.

There, a head - the head of a seal or maybe a sea lion. It was round and distinct against the water’s surface, bobbing up and down. Connie watched for a second, and took a breath. Sea life was a good sign of oceanic health. She touched her bag, mentally conjuring some fantasy trope or another, trying to rationalize the creature’s appearance as an omen or charm. Wishful thinking was better than depressive thinking. The seal took a snorting breath, then vanished from view.

That was all for the day, then. Connie sighed in the sea air and pushed herself back onto the dock. She shuffled her bag and adjusted her coat, and was about to stand when another foreign body bobbed to the surface.

Connie nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of the boy. He must have swam under one of the boats, jumped off of another dock or waded in from the boat launch, because his arrival was almost completely silent. He stared up at her with his mouth still submerged. Connie brought her bag to her chest and tried to find something to say to him. He was staring at her with something akin to curiosity, blinking from underneath a mop of black wavy hair. Even in the mist, she could see that his eyes were light, very light, like a sky-blue. The rest of his body was completely obscured by the dark ocean, but he looked about the same age as her. Connie cleared her throat.

“Um, hello,” she said. “You might not want to stay there for too long. I know that the ocean can get really cold this time of year. Not that - not that I’m telling you what to do, it’s just, I don’t want you catching anything, because it’s dangerous with, um, with hypothermia and - “

He disappeared again, sinking into the water. Connie stopped with her mouth open, then closed it in defeat. There was no point in trying, not when she was a babbling mess with red eyes and no sense of anything. Connie swung her backpack around and put a hand on the dock to stand. The water burst, and Connie yelled as a massive object hurled itself out of the ocean, spraying her and the wood with cold water. The girl spluttered and wiped her face, and when she got her bearings she opened her eyes to the thing. She froze.

“H-hello,” she whispered.

The boy’s bare torso dripped with seawater. His whole body was round and yet powerful, strong enough to push him through the water but as soft as silk all the same. Baby fat curved out his chest and belly like an ancient marble sculpture. Connie’s eyes followed past his belly-button to where human skin faded and darkened into fur. He propped his upper half up on his legs and flopped the seal half of his body firmly onto the dock. It was sand-brown and silver, with patches of dark brown that faded to cover his back flippers.

“Halloo.”

The smile that this creature gave Connie was small, but she could see the sharp teeth behind his lips. Even though he had just come out of the sea, his messy hair was none the worse for wear, and was completely free of salt damage. She had thought his eyes were blue, but now that he was here and staring at her, she saw that it had just been the reflection of the water. There were deep grooves of steel and inhuman silver swirls, impossible contortions of the iris. Everything about him was impossible. Connie crossed her legs and put a hand out, trying to ignore her shaking fingers. Before she jumped in the water to wake herself, there were steps to determine whether or not this was a dream.

The seal boy adjusted himself so that he was in a strange sitting position, putting his weight on his back half. Connie sucked in a sharp breath as he reached up and grabbed her with both hands. Even though he had just been in the ocean, he was blood-warm and very, very real.

“What are you?”

He perked up, still smiling as he pulled Connie’s hand towards him. The creature spread her fingers and held her palm against his chest. There, underneath the insulated heat of his skin, she could feel his heart beating. He pondered her question for a moment as he stroked the back of her hand, her touch bringing him enjoyment in equal measure to her mystification.

“Selkie,” he said plainly, before he reached out a single finger and bopped Connie on the tip of her nose. “Human!”

She couldn’t help but smile. If he wanted to kill her or kidnap her like some other magical folk, he would have done so already. This was a kind of play, and Connie didn’t know how she felt about it. The creature appeared to speak some sort of English, although his vocabulary was yet to be tested. And he called himself a selkie, which made Connie curse her lack of mythological knowledge. She had heard the word before, but had lost what kind of creature that entailed.

“Selkie,” she repeated, “a seal-folk. That was you back there in the bay, and then you came up, so you can shapeshift, right?”

The boy nodded. Connie furrowed her brow at the rest of the boy’s body, and he tilted his head like a dog, puzzled at the girl’s confusion. Inside her head, Connie was thankful that this was some sort of distraction from her woes earlier, as alien as this encounter was.

“But you can’t shapeshift all the way into human form. Right?”

“Can, I can.” His voice was consistently chipper and melodic, and its inhuman nature made Connie shudder inside whenever he spoke. “If I leave the skin, I walk.”

“I...don’t know what that means.”

He hesitated, looking down at his body and swiveling his back flippers nervously. Connie reached out and took his hand, and he immediately turned back to her.

“Don’t worry! It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me right now,” she said. “You, um, maybe you can show me later, okay? Hey, do you have a name?”

“Stephen.”

“Stephen! Hello, Stephen. I’m Connie.”

“Connie,” he repeated.

Stephen moved his fingers where Connie held him, interlocking their hands. She barely had time to register this new connection before the selkie reached up with one finger, gentler this time. The girl forced herself not to move, closing her eyes as the boy traced a finger across her skin, from the inner curve of her eye socket down her cheek, brushing past the corner of her lips. Somehow, it was the exact trail that her tears had gone, and it was the same pressure that his fingers put on her cheek. Another tear slid out involuntarily, chasing its phantom brethren. Connie was more mystified than sad, and yet the pressure from the selkie’s hand was making her body tear up again. Stephen looked satisfied, but frowned as he let his hands fall back down to the wood.

“Why did you call me?”

Connie started, straightening up. Stephen merely stared patiently as she collected herself. His inhuman gaze made her words fail for a moment.

“I didn’t mean to,” Connie said. “I don’t know what I did to - call you? I was just here, and it was a bad day, and then you showed up. Really, it was an accident. I’m sorry if it was, um, inconvenient for you.”

Was this really where her life was at, where she was apologizing to fantastical beasts for wasting their time? But Stephen shook his head and pointed to her cheek again.

“You called me,” he insisted.

Connie wiped her face and stared at the trace of liquid on her palm. The tears, then, that’s what must have called him. The girl crossed her arms and adjusted her seat on the dock. She wanted to look back at Stephen, but she couldn’t bring herself to bring her head up.

“Like I said, it was just a bad day. Tears in the ocean. Ha, that sounds like a line from some dusty old poem, or from one of my books. I guess it works though, right? That’s what I get for crying in public, instead of at home, like usual.”

That was too much. Connie realized just after it was too late that it was too much. She pushed her hands into her face underneath her glasses. Stephen’s presence made the redness burn through her body faster than usual. It felt like being at school again, but even lonelier. She wanted to open her eyes and have this creature vanish once more. It’s what she deserved.

“I just - I don’t have anyone, and I don’t deserve anyone, and you’re here and this is what you get,” she sniffled, “some girl with no friends who doesn’t even want magic. You probably have a thousand other people who need you more than me, so just - go! Go away, and… And leave me alone again, I don’t want…”

The warmth engulfed her before she could respond. Stephen’s hug was sudden and strong, both arms holding her in place. He brought his head next to hers, and the invasion forced Connie to let her hands drop down away from her face so as not to get crushed by the embrace. The girl swallowed and forced a shallow, shaky breath, but she was breathing again, and Stephen was holding her in place. One arm hung around her shoulders, and the other held her lower back underneath her backpack.

It was the closest thing to comfort she had felt in a while. A hug from her mother before work was soft, and serious. A hug from her father bespoke protection with a dash of fear. What was this, then? Stephen’s arms were warm and his purpose was clear. She was no longer alone. Connie didn’t know what a selkie wanted in return, or even if there was any other purpose to his presence besides that innocent friendliness. For the moment, Connie found her arms tightening around Stephen in turn, and she squeezed that perfect skin, protected from the bite of the wind by his magical body.

She drew back first. To her surprise, he was still smiling, thankful and satisfied with her returned embrace. Stephen released her, but held his hands out. Connie let hers fall together into his palms, and the boy squeezed them gently as his body adjusted again.

“I watch you, from the sea,” he said, “from summer. When the humans come and play, and you read, by the rocks. And you come here! You cry, you call. Other selkie, they come looking for a wife when women cry. You cry for a friend.”

Once the charm of Stephen’s odd English had passed, Connie found herself slightly taken aback by the uncomfortable mystic rules of Stephen’s people. It didn’t seem right for them to come for human women, considering the nature of the interspecies boundary. Stranger things had happened, though, like that dragon romance novel that Connie had had to return to the librarian in a fit of blushing.

“I mean, that works. Stephen, how much about selkies is true in the folklore?”

He tilted his head like a puppy. Connie fished around in her pocket for her phone, tapping out some numbers. Stephen leaned over, then jumped back as Connie held an article up for him to read.

“See, okay here’s some stuff about how sometimes a selkie can change out of their seal form into a human form, but nothing about, um, about what you’re doing now. I know it’s a little weird, but can you fact-check this for me?”

Stephen stared at the device in Connie’s hands and blinked. He turned and shook his head, attempting to offer a smile. She returned the phone to her pocket and frowned in thought. If he was illiterate, it would make things much more difficult for them going forwards. Whatever going forwards meant. Hopefully, Stephen didn’t expect her to become his wife by the end of the day.

The thought made Connie stiffen, and her face began to burn again. Stephen hopped himself forwards and raised a hand to touch in concern. Connie waved him off with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“No, I’m okay,” she stammered. “I’m just thinking about things. I mean - “ She cleared her throat. “Can you change out of your skin? Or does it have to be a time of day, or season or something?”

Stephen lit up, and he turned until he was in a push-up position. He closed his silver eyes, and Connie scooted back to the edge of the dock as the fur below the boy’s waist began to shimmer, like it was melting off of his body. An impossible bend in his back legs formed, twisting the child’s natural anatomy. Connie covered her eyes, half-expecting to hear a hideous crack or the grotesque sounds of bodily morphing.

There was only shifting, the sound of fur and fabric rustling over each other. Connie kept her hands on her face until she heard the sound of two feet creaking on the wood. Peeking past her fingers, Connie saw a pair of bare feet, thick little toes leading up to equally chubby legs - then, the hem of a robe right above the knee.

She looked up and adjusted her glasses. There he was, the strange creature from the ocean, with a soft spotted cloak wrapped around his body. It was his skin, but not an equal to what had been covering his body; rather, it was an extension, an imagination, cut from the soft seal cloth and connected to the child’s soul. Stephen held it around himself with one hand clutching it from the inside. The other hand he offered to Connie from between the folds. She let him raise her to her feet, and they stared eye-to-eye for a moment. Even though he was holding back a smile, Connie could see Stephen’s sharp little teeth poking into his lip.

“Nobody knows,” he crowed, raising his eyebrows smugly. “And nobody can steal.”

“Stephen, it’s a bad idea to walk around like that. People will think you’re a hippie, or worse.”

Stephen’s smile fell even though he clearly had no idea what a hippie was. Connie adjusted her backpack and studied her new friend - that’s what he had to be, she supposed - while she formulated some manner of plan.

“Okay. I know how we can both walk around, and you’ll be safe and nobody will know that you’re you. But you have to trust me on this, and you’re also going to have to wait here for a moment while I get some stuff from a shop. Will you be safe here?”

Stephen nodded and knelt. He stared at Connie with inhuman patience and curiosity. Everything he did was inhuman, but he couldn’t help that. At least he was willing to go along for the ride. Despite her anxious heart, Connie couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement for the first time in a long while. This was her quest to help a magical creature, her first real step into adventure. Connie paused for a moment. Additionally, this was her first real friend. If her first friend was a selkie summoned by her tears, she was in for a strange life. But they had just met, and there were many rocky rivers ahead for the friendship. They knew nothing about each other except for secrets and loneliness. The way ahead was as foggy as the harbor around them.

And that meant that there was nothing to do but explore. Connie summoned all the strength of every protagonist she had ever read in her life. She squared her shoulders and held onto the straps of her backpack. Her smile to Stephen was prideful and confident, and he could only give her the same innocence that he had come with.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t worry!”

Stephen watched Connie jog off down the planks, then down the sidewalk towards the rest of humankind. He hugged his skin around himself, taking comfort in its selfsame warmth. But he turned back to the sea regardless, and the ocean’s chill made him shrink into the silver cloak. The tears had been shed. It was only a matter of time.

The only strange thing about the scene was the fact that Connie had a companion. Not that anyone in town noticed her, she remembered, but it was actually nice to have company for once. Some of the adults had seen her, and a couple remembered her name out of the minute beachside population. None of them had seen anyone like Stephen. Thanks to his new disguise, nobody would suspect that he was anything but another kid. His gait as he came down the sidewalk was a little wobbly; Connie chalked that up to the fact that he didn’t have legs most of the time.

It was fortunate that the clearance bin had had something in youth sizes. The sweatpants were a little short, but stretched around Stephen’s waist just fine, and the selkie actually looked quite comfortable in the massive granite sweatshirt. He had been enthralled with the giant black anchor on the front. Connie had guessed that his feet were larger than hers, and even then the magenta flip-flops were a little small on Stephen.

She couldn’t help but stare at him some more. The boy tottered in place for a second, arms out and legs stiff as he forced himself to balance. When he checked for Connie’s approval, she was surprised to see him uncertain.

“Hey, Stephen, you okay?”

“This… This is a human place? I’m not allowed.”

“Oh, I understand. My parents don’t let me go some places, too. I can’t go to the mall or even over to Funland without them. Honestly, I’m not supposed to be here, but they think I’m just down by the beach. Sometimes, dad drives by and checks on me, and mom will text me when I have to come home.”

Stephen nodded slowly as they walked down the boardwalk together. Connie held on to her backpack and chewed on the inside of her cheek gently. He really had no idea what she was talking about. Even the talk of parents had made him glance down. The strictness of magical creatures was probably much more than that of humans, and Connie hated to think about what that was like.

“Hey, nobody has to know,” she said. Connie reached down to take his hand. “You don’t tell my parents, and I won’t tell yours. Okay?”

Instead of responding, Stephen squeezed her hand and pulled Connie close. There was a question she wanted to ask, but it wasn’t the time. She was his protector for this illicit expedition.

That was true in more ways than one. Deep inside her backpack, Connie could feel the weight of Stephen’s skin. Even though it was gross if she thought about it in certain terms, there was honor in having it in her possession. The legends that she had skimmed mentioned stories of selkie women who had their skins stolen and could never return to their home of the sea, forced to live with human husbands. Connie felt sick thinking of an innocent boy like Stephen living out his days alone here, away from his family and other friends.

Food seemed in order. It was as good a time as any, and Connie could go for an after-school snack. Stephen had warmed up to her already, but in order to get used to the human world with all its dangers and frights, food seemed like a safe place to start. Even before they had reached the restaurants, Steven had perked his head up, snuffling like a dog. It made Connie smile to see the little animalistic characteristics in him. He was curious, she reasoned, explorative but cautious, inexperienced and willing to follow her. He was trusting her with his body and his soul, all folded up in her school bag.

“Stephen, do you want to eat?” she asked.

“I can smell the fish? Fish and human.”

“That’s - yeah, that’s the pizza place.”

Fish Stew it was. The fog was less dense this side of the bay, and the cartoon pizza-fish logo was just as dopey as the first time Connie had seen it. At least they had plain cheese for her. When she looked at Stephen, she could see his pupils widen and the steel folds morph around the blackness. They’d have more problems than hunger if Stephen went feral inside the shop. Though he was gentle to the touch, Connie suddenly felt a little anxious - but it was good anxiety, problem-solving anxiety, not the wrenching hopeless kind she knew too well. This was going to work out, and she was going to make it work out.

Connie turned and took Stephen by the shoulders. He turned down to face her, nose still twitching as his instincts told him to follow the smell of fish.

“So, I want you to trust me. Okay?”

“Yes, trust!”

“I’m going to go in, and you follow me. I’ll order for both of us, and I’ll pay, and then we’ll head back out here on the bench to talk,” Connie said, pointing to the various landmarks. “If anyone asks you questions, I’ll answer.”

Stephen nodded, and Connie took a deep breath before she turned to walk to the shop. Immediately, she felt Stephen grab her hand again, and she nearly fell over. The thought of being seen holding hands with a boy was something she hadn’t considered. If they were at school, the repercussions would be horrific. With strangers, who knew what could happen? Connie realized that she was frozen in place, and Stephen was tilting his head at her. He brought a hand up to touch her cheek, and Connie stood stiffly back upright, jerking away from the touch.

“Connie?” the boy asked, all his senses trained on his friend. “Connie, you are well?”

He had no concept of embarrassment, not in the same way that she did. Connie forced herself to look into Stephen’s face. He was otherworldly, and innocent, and Connie knew that he was only as afraid as she was. When she squeezed his hand, he returned the pressure, no more and no less. The girl felt the wind break over her, filling her lungs and pushing away the anxiety for the moment. Her first duty was to protect Stephen, as his was to comfort Connie. She was his magical guardian. She forced a little smile.

“I’m well. Are you ready?”

He was. They turned together with Connie in the lead. The bell chimed as the pair walked in, and immediately, Stephen’s mouth opened in awe. Connie didn’t think that this chintzy little place could overstimulate anyone, but she was thinking in human terms. All the smells of food nearly stopped Stephen in his tracks. Connie’s tugging made him stumble along beside her. His eyes were everywhere, and he turned to and fro to study the colors and sights of Fish Stew Pizza. The paintings on the walls and the thick tiles were both muted from the years beside the ocean and the constant flow of tourists and locals alike. The tables were almost all empty with the exception of an older teenager with over-conditioned hair in the back, playing with his scarf and his phone with intense boredom.

Behind the counter, a young black teenager was finishing tying up her apron. She smiled down at Connie, giving a sideways glance to the enamored Stephen, who was still looking everywhere but where he was supposed to.

“Welcome to Fish Stew Pizza, kids,” Kiki said. “What can I get for you two?”

“One slice of plain cheese, and I guess a normal, um, fish slice too. To go, please.”

The mention of fish from Connie’s mouth made Stephen face forward immediately. Kiki raised her eyebrows as Stephen came up to the counter next to his friend and craned his neck around to see the goings-on behind the server. Connie had to resist the urge to grab Stephen by the back of his hood and tug him away.

“Man, I love your contacts!”

Stephen stared straight up, fluorescent bulbs making the pattern shine. Connie pulled on his arm, but the boy smiled regardless, with his seal teeth bared. Connie’s heart began to pound. Kiki giggled and took a couple of paper plates from a stack next to the register.

“Cute costume, and great fangs,” she said, moving to the heated racks of pizza. “Kinda a vampire look. Or are you supposed to be a werewolf? Either way, you’ve got like seven months until the dress-up parties really start around here.”

Stephen beamed at the compliment. Connie let go of his hand to fumble for her wallet. The selkie watched patiently, tapping his hands on the counter. She was thankful that she could mask her irritation with business. Kiki didn’t seem to notice that the boy wasn’t actually human. Connie noted that the cashier hadn’t been the one to see him with half of his body covered in fur, either. Humans had a tendency not to notice things outside the realm of their reality.

“Here you go! Enjoy.”

Kiki slid two plates over, and Connie thrust a bill across the counter. Stephen’s eyes were locked on the strange triangles as Connie picked up the plates, hurrying out of the restaurant.

“Keep the change!” she called over her shoulder.

And then, back outside. Connie knew that Stephen was following her as she walked to the benches. As far as human amenities went, pizza was one of the better inventions to become readily available. The girl sat down and took another long breath. She put her own pizza on the seat and swung the backpack to the boardwalk. Connie leaned against the curve of the bench with her feet swinging,

Stephen mirrored her pose, although by this point he was nearly drooling. Actually, as Connie looked up, he was literally drooling, a small trail of spit dribbling from the corner of his mouth. She handed over his slice of pizza with morbid curiosity.

“Just...eat it however you want,” she said. “It’s called ‘pizza.’ Basically, cheese and bread with some stuff on it. I think they get good bluefish from the locals, but, um…”

Stephen did grip the pizza by the crust to begin with. Slowly, he slid the point of the slice into his mouth, opened wide to keep the heat from hurting him. The sharp teeth tore into the dough and pulled a chunk of pizza away like flesh from wounded prey. Stephen gnashed with his mouth open, eyes wide as heat, cheese, and fishy chunks all filled his mouth. Connie smiled as she took a small mouthful. A little grease and white flour never hurt anyone. She watched Stephen attack his victim in bits and pieces, dripping orange oil all over his hands.

“Oh, shoot, I forgot to get napkins,” Connie murmured. She turned around to the restaurant, then back to Stephen, who had his head back as he ground fish against his molars. “You know what, you can wipe your hands on your shirt if you really want. I can do laundry at home.”

Stephen actually slowed his mouth exploration for a second, studying the human.

“What is your home?”

“What - is it? Well, I live with my mom, who’s a doctor, and my dad, who works security. He protects places and mom heals people. Like a medic or… I don’t know what you have, honestly.”

Stephen nodded and tore off chunks of the crust. Connie shifted and put her half-finished pizza down on her plate.

“What’s your life like though, Stephen?” Connie asked. “You’re the first magical species that I’ve ever seen, maybe that anyone’s ever seen! I know there are stories, but those are just old myths. You’re real, and you’re amazing! I want to know everything.”

Those tingles of excitement made Connie want to start to jump, to run, to get that spark out of her system so that she could study Stephen unabated by the freshness of this discovery. Stephen slowed in proportion to the girl’s inner engine. His jaw still moved around in exaggerated circles as he milked all the flavor out of their lunch, but he stared out at the ocean with a strange sadness that made Connie’s smile fade.

“I am the only pup of them,” he said at last. “The families together, there is a cave, a secret cave. No human must know, not ever of its place - not even you, Connie. We hide and fish and grow and we have our home. I am older enough to go out and swim, and I like to watch the human people. Wait, waiting for one to call.”

“Only pup? You’re the only child in your whole colony?” Connie asked.

Stephen shook his head, and snorted in laughter. He lowered his hand to a foot above the boardwalk and sighed.

“There are born pups and siblings of mothers and fathers. Learning to swim, to hunt. They are not allowed to be wandering as me.”

Connie put her pizza aside. Something struck her, and she scooted closer to Stephen. He made no motions to stop her as she took his paper plate, placing it underneath hers.

“Stephen, do you have parents?”

The selkie wiped his hands on the legs of his sweatpants and looked at the sand. Connie tooka  hand and rested it on his back. Things were coming together, and as sorry for herself as she had felt earlier, she was starting to feel just as bad for her new friend. The boy leaned against her palm.

“A storm, taking them and taking me,” he murmured. “The guides found me with mam, on the rocks and… I became with them. I am under protection of three elders, allmothers, with no blood claim. I come from outside, and I feel their love as their kin, but it isn’t of the same. Always outside. No real da, three guardians. That’s why humans I am enjoying to see! All belong together from all families.”

The summer beaches, perhaps, or the concerts on the sand, the theatrical get-togethers - there was so much to see, and Connie had to admit that compared to a life of fishing and hiding, it must seem pretty unique. He had mentioned watching her read by the rocks, which must not be very exciting, but Connie realized what Stephen must have been seeing.

Not one time had her parents been there either. If selkies aged like humans, than Stephen was about the same age as her, and he had seen Connie also alone without family. It was another kind of kinship that he must have felt.

“I know what it’s like to be an outsider, Stephen,” she said. “At school, when I’m all around these other kids, none of them stop to talk to me because they’ve already made their groups and their little ‘families.’ And they don’t need me. Even the teachers have their own problems. It’s horrible. To feel unwanted like that.”

“How do you fight it?”

That was a question Connie didn’t know how to answer. She hesitated, then motioned to her backpack.

“Well, I guess I read books. They’re mostly about kids like me who go on magical adventures and stuff. And this isn’t an adventure, but it’s magical, so it counts. I always wanted to be special like them.”

It had to be magical. There was no logical or scientific explanation for how the giant skin-cloak folded neatly in her backpack could give this boy the power to turn into a seal. Connie actually felt guilty for a moment. She was currently living her fantasy of otherworldly interaction, while Stephen had to be content with pizza and intrusive conversation. Actually, the whole thing felt strange. Connie cleared her throat.

“Stephen, you don’t have to stay with me. I appreciate you being here, and I know I called you up, but why stay with me?” the girl asked. “I don’t want to be your prisoner like in those old folk tales.”

“I…”

Stephen turned his body towards Connie. He took her hand again and held it between both of his own. His skin looked even paler next to hers, despite the warmth and bloodflow.

“Maybe, if I am feeling badly with the colony, I can come sometimes with humans,” Stephen said at last. “It is - older males, the old used to wander and learn and speak and find a love on the land. I wander, I find a friend calling. Maybe it’s better. Maybe I belong with you?”

Connie didn’t mean to blush. The genuine question was just that, nothing more than a boy wondering about his future. The selkie’s story was more than just another folktale; it was a connection between the two of them, a spoken bond and a strange parallel between two worlds. And still, Connie didn’t know how to react to the language Stephen was using or to the fact that had he been older there would have been an ulterior motive.

No, that was unfair. When he had hugged her on the dock, it wasn’t just Connie’s comfort that mattered, but Stephen’s as well. He had needed a hug from someone just as alone as he was. Even though they both felt broken, there was nothing really wrong with them inside. Connie put her hand over Stephen’s and took a breath.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble for leaving your colony, but more importantly, I don’t want you to get discovered by other humans who don’t understand you,” she said.

Stephen looked crestfallen. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could ask Connie to change her mind, she raised a finger.

“Therefore, whenever we meet, it’s gonna have to be super secret. We’re going to have to find times and places where nobody will be able to find us out. I know my parents well enough to get around them, and hey, you were smart enough to get away here! All we have to do is be safe, and we should be fine.”

Someday, maybe she could learn how to dive, and she could swim with Stephen and meet his family. If things were safe enough, then they could even help her. Connie couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of being the only human in contact with a magical tribe. Were there more over the globe, around the world? Nobody knew yet, and she would be the first. But for now, Stephen was the one who needed her help. He could walk on land, and she couldn’t quite hold her breath for as long as a seal.

Stephen’s eyes lit up at the prospect. He let go of the girl’s hands and pushed himself forwards in a thankful hug. Connie had the wind knocked out of her for a moment, but she returned the awkward embrace with a little laugh.

“Thank you, Connie,” he murmured into her ear.

It was so simple. Stephen wanted something that could put him into danger, something that might get him into trouble or worst, an experience that might cost him his civilization in the wrong hands, and he had risked it all for Connie. Something about her had led him to put his trust in their meeting. It might have been the tears or it might have been the general kindness; it was a massive chance regardless of the reason. But Stephen wanted to escape and learn in a world that couldn’t possibly welcome him in this day and age. All Connie wanted was a friend. As she hugged the selkie tightly, she knew deep in her heart that she had found one. It was up to her to return the favor.

No time like the present. Stephen followed Connie to her feet as she broke the embrace and picked up her backpack to swing over her shoulders.

“Let’s go back to the rocks,” she said. “There won’t be anyone else there with the fog, and it’s not that popular anyway. It’ll just be us.”

“What are you thinking to do, Connie?”

The girl smiled as she picked up her half-eaten pizza slice and handed it over to Stephen.

“I want to share something with you.”

The ocean churned up small waves on the shore, tiny crests of freezing foam bubbling at the edge of the sand. The massive hill overshadowed the town with only the lighthouse on top to demarcate human presence. Winds from the north buffeted the cliffs hopelessly, and the ocean’s fervor on that side of the shore was still mild compared to the previous winter storms. The south cliffs remained relatively peaceful, darkened by the afternoon shade. Moistened sand retained the footprints of the two beachgoers.

Connie was learning about her bubble. Stephen had been very excited about her reading to him from her newest series as an introduction to human stories and words. Teaching him how to actually read would be another lesson for the future. As soon as Connie had sat down against the cliff, Stephen was right there against her, peering over at the pages and the chapter illustrations. He had run his hands over the book’s cover, over the raised lettering of the author’s name and the bright flashes of magical energy.

The selkie reminded Connie of a neighbor’s dog from when they had lived nearer farm country. She had been much younger and smaller then, but she remembered the bounding sheepdog and the way he would shove his head against people’s bodies to get attention. Stephen was certainly more polite than a sheepdog, but it had been difficult to turn the pages to begin with regardless. Eventually, Connie had to settle for having a hand around her friend’s arm, letting him cling happily as she turned the pages with her other hand. As she read, she thought about a high school program where older students went down to the kindergarten and read to much younger kids. It had seemed daunting for extra credit, but if this was any indication of how it could turn out, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

“‘Lisa pushed herself to her feet with a cloud of dust rising around her,’” Connie continued. “‘Archimicarus was nowhere to be seen, and she had lost her explorer’s pack in the fall. Her ropes and her gear and everything else she needed to get out of this chasm were inside. Hopelessness began to crawl up into her heart. But as Lisa looked back upwards, she could see the morning light still filtering through the top of the world. It could have been a hundred miles or a thousand - it didn’t matter. She was going to find her friends and find her way out of this place. With a determined shake of her cloak, Lisa…’”

She had felt his head move. Connie glanced down, and saw Steven’s eyes rise to meet the seaside. She looked left and right, checking to make sure that nobody had followed them down; true to her prediction, they were the only ones still around the base of the cliff in this weather. She dog-eared the page, placing the book on top of her pack

“Stephen, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer. Tentatively, the selkie raised a finger and started to point towards the ocean. Under the cover of mist, Connie couldn’t see anything past the very edge of the water. She adjusted her glasses and peered out, trying to see what Stephen might have been startled by.

“I thought I was seeing…” Stephen murmured, but he put his hand down.

Connie still didn’t feel convinced. She could see the silver swirls of Stephen’s eyes shifting in their circles. Besides the physical transformation, it had to be the most supernatural aspect of his being, and certainly the most visible. Oceanic exploration and seafaring survival depended on his eyes being as adept as possible, and Connie’s gut told her that he had indeed seen something through the fog.

She started to stand up. Stephen sucked in a breath and tried to pull her back down, tugging on the sleeve of her raincoat. Connie put a hand over his and offered a reassuring smile.

“I’m just going to look. Come on, there’s nothing there.”

The two children left the rock and started towards the shoreline. A gust picked up from around the cove and made Connie shudder. Stephen held her hand and squeezed his warmth into her palm. Dense cloud cover blocked out most of the sunlight, darkening the ocean’s choppy surface. It was possible that there was a storm on the horizon and rain coming in, but Connie couldn’t see through the fog to the horizon, or even a good distance ahead.

Even so, the ocean that she did see was just ocean, with no strangeness to speak of. It wasn’t as though selkies could sense danger as far as Connie knew. None of the stories they had skimmed had mentioned that. The girl sighed and patted Stephen on the back.

“See? Just the water,” she said.

Neither of them saw the bulge at the surface of the water turn into a break. Instantly, the tide was broken with the face of a massive beast, its guttural snarl as loud as the crashing waves. Connie and Stephen shouted together and stumbled backwards as the creature shook water off its back and lumbered onto the sand. It was a massive seal, larger than Connie had ever seen in a zoo or in a nature program. It was at least ten feet from nose to tail, and its pelt was so dark brown it was almost black. No seal on earth looked like that, and Connie knew instantly that this was another selkie. It was huge, it was angry, and it was coming at them.

Stephen grabbed Connie’s arm and helped her steady herself as they retreated. He pushed his body in front of Connie, his messy hair blown around by the wind. Connie could see that he was breathing heavily and she could feel their fear together. But his eyebrows were narrowed and his jaw set. She could see Stephen’s open mouth as he braced himself, sharp teeth gleaming in the low light.

The approaching seal bellowed. Connie ducked her head as the angry roar poured over them like a tidal wave. The depth and sheer rage shook her to the bone, and she would have fallen onto the sand without Stephen holding on. To her surprise, a moment later she did find herself collapsed on the beach. He had let go. The boy took a step forwards.

“Stephen!” Connie shouted.

He roared back. Connie held her breath as her friend bared his teeth, fists balled up and besandaled feet pushing against the earth. The little selkie’s voice was muted by human lungs, but he roared as loudly as he could, letting his humanity fall away as the animal inside stood against his elder. The monstrous seal recoiled in bewilderment. A second later, it lowered its torso and roared once more, even louder than before.

The two selkies raged back and forth, Stephen’s voice lost in the cacophony of his elder’s voice. Connie covered her ears and winced, trying to drown out the anger. Whatever language the sea-folk used, this wasn’t it - this was just yelling for the sake of yelling. When she looked back up, she could see Stephen was faltering despite his desire to defend his friend. This was not the first time that this had happened, she was sure. But it might have been the first time he held his resolve like this. Connie couldn’t let that happen. She watched Stephen and thought about the times she had tried to stand up to her mother, the arguments that she didn’t need to do any more activities, the debates about what colleges she should look at years in advance, the specific studying times and the rules and all the things that drove her to tears again. Connie lost the selkies in her tears.

She stood up and ran forward to put herself in between Stephen and the seal. The quarrel stopped completely. Stephen’s roars turned into a silent gasp, and the seal grunted in confusion, hopping backwards. Connie flung her arms out and splayed her fingers wide.

“LET HIM GO!”

“Connie?” Stephen whispered. His voice was hoarse, almost gone.

The girl ignored him.

“Let him go,” she said again, staring at the blurry place where she knew the seal’s massive head was. She could see its fangs coming out again. “You’ve holed him up, you’ve mistrusted him, you’ve made him feel like he’s trapped, and you need to let him go! When I needed someone, he was the only one in the world to come and be my friend. When I wanted a journey, when I wanted someone in my life, Stephen came into it because he cared. And he deserves to be able to care! He deserves to be with someone who trusts him, and - and I’m that someone!”

The ocean crashed over the ensuing silence. Connie wiped her eyes one at a time. The rubber boots shook against the wet sand underneath them. Behind her, Stephen looked up at the older selkie with an uncertain glower. The seal growled under its breath as it studied Connie. It lowered its head and huffed before its entire body began to shudder.

The seal reared up on its tail and threw its head back, towering over the two children. Its fins stuck to its body, then melted into the pelt. The fur on the neck split open. A slit, from the jaw to the collar, opened in its flesh as the seal’s entire head peeled back. From within, Connie saw a woman’s face emerge, eyes closed and mouth taut with anger.

The woman’s torso began to come to light as the slit spread down the seal’s body, an earthquake splitting the world in two. To Connie’s surprise, she was clothed, her body covered in a single maroon robe that flowed over her body like blood. Her bare feet stepped out onto the sand, and her arms pushed out of the sealskin, strong brown fingers flexing. They reached up and pulled the remainder of her hood off of her head to reveal her black wavy hair, flowing out from behind her in the wind. She had perfect copper skin, full lips pressed together, and a chin held royally upright. When she opened her eyes, Connie was instantly lost in their depth. Gold and onyx flowed in her irises, the same pattern as Steven’s steel in earthen shades.

She stood above Connie like a goddess, her newly-formed sealskin cloak draped around her. The woman stared her down and curled her lip. The girl’s arms had already fallen in awe. She saw now how amatuer Stephen’s transformation was, how inexperienced his shapeshifting skills had been.

“Where is his skin, thief.”

Connie was not prepared for this. The speech she had given was easy to throw in front of a monster, but not in front of a woman of this poise. All the anger that she had seen in the beast was contained in each word, each syllable, in the accusation of ‘thief.’ It was more like talking to her mother again than anyone, and Connie suddenly felt her limit of human interaction once more.

“She is having it safe, Garnet,” Stephen said.

Both Connie and Garnet turned to look at the boy. His voice was low, but he stood straight and answered the question directly. There was confidence in him yet, and Connie took his hand again, moving to stand side by side with the selkie. Garnet took a breath so slow and methodical that Connie swore time slowed around her.

“There is no safety in humans,” Garnet said at last, “not in your youth. You are nary a pup, Stephen, and you dare to come onto this land, against all the stories you have known, against the blood that has been shed. You have been trained better and you know better than to risk your life. Now, you are trusting this child who spoke for you so fiercely, and where is this tongue? Where is this trust?”

Stephen said nothing. Far off across the ocean, the gentle caress of thunder echoed towards them. Connie edged closer to Stephen and held his hand even tighter.

Garnet almost sighed. “This breach cannot have come at a worse time. You have shown a human a magic kept secret and obscured for generations. Barbarism, bloodshed, extinction - why bring these closer? Why?”

Connie cleared her throat. Garnet turned her eyes to the human girl as she let go of Stephen, stepping forwards. The thoughts were half-contained and her voice was still soft, but Connie forced herself to meet the selkie’s stare.

“Because I know how he feels, more than anyone. And Stephen needs someone like me. Someone who can empathize with him. You have your family, the other selkies, right? I know who you are - you’re one of the elders. Aren’t you?”

Garnet lowered her chin in acknowledgement.

“So - you know that Stephen feels alone, even with your protection,” Connie continued. “Even though you want him to be safe, you’re taking away his freedom. I know, it sounds too simple to be true, but that’s just how we all feel when someone we trust is just...too hard on us. We both feel trapped and alone, like the people that are protecting us are hurting us. That’s how I felt when I cried today, and Stephen could feel it too, I know it.”

“And what do you propose, child?” Garnet said. “He cannot be among you as a human. Is he to be adopted, or perhaps collared as a beast?”

Stephen shivered, moving a hand to his neck. There were stories that sat deep, Connie could sense, things he had been told about the human world that he had ignored or forgotten. This was different now, but the fear remained. She held her hands behind her back, rubbing her fingers together.

“I...I just want to be able to see him for a while. Just to be a friend. Because he doesn’t have any friends at home, and you know it.”

To both the children’s surprise, Garnet looked stung. She opened her mouth, then closed it, turning her head down in thought. Stephen’s sad face hung low, and he sniffed in fear. Connie’s stomach dropped as she felt the inevitable. It was just like how all arguments ended with adults, with the easiest road taken, with emotions compromised in favor of simplicity.

But Garnet lowered to her knees. She extended a hand in Stephen’s direction.

The boy stopped for a second. He held his breath before his face twisted and he let out a little sob, running into Garnet’s arms. He fell against the giant woman and sniffled into her fur as she held him close. She caressed the boy with a hand up the back of the sweatshirt, skin to skin contact, warmth to warmth and family to family.

“Child, we try,” Garnet said to Connie. “But we must find safety first. I did… I did not consider the loneliness. Stephen has myself, he has his guardians. But… You are correct. His peers are none and he…”

“I know. I know exactly how he feels.”

“Do you hurt like him?”

Connie swallowed and nodded. She felt like crying again, and it took everything to hold it back. Garnet sighed and released Stephen, holding his shoulders as he wiped his face and finished sniffling.

“Why have you not spoken, Stephen? Why hold your hurt?” Garnet murmured.

Stephen couldn’t answer through his closed throat. He was overcome with emotion, unable to speak or think clearly. Connie stepped forwards and Garnet moved a hand down so the girl could come in. She hugged Stephen as the elder Selkie watched the boy breathe in, his hands coming to wrap around the human’s raincoat. Stephen shuddered once, then looked up at his guardian.

“I did not know how,” he said. “When you are telling me everything is for safety, at all costs, how am I to be speaking? What if the costing is me?”

Connie felt Garnet’s hand on her shoulder - just as warm as Stephen, if not warmer. The selkie moved her so the three of them could face one another. She looked from the girl to the boy and back again.

“What is your name, child?”

“Connie. I’m Connie.”

Garnet smiled for the first time. It was small, more amused than anything, but it was a smile nonetheless, and Connie felt herself smiling back.

“Constance,” Garnet said. “Constance indeed. Do you swear, then?”

“S-sorry?”

Garnet took the girl’s hand. The other held Stephen’s, and Stephen in turn reached over to grab Connie. The circle joined, Garnet squeezed both the children’s hands and sighed, weighing her words carefully.

“If you are allowed to be a companion, on the basis of this kinship for the alleviation of pain, do you swear to keep the secrets of our race, to uphold and to protect?”

This was like a pledge of knighthood, or something to sign before a standardized test, but actually exciting. Connie felt her heart race as she nodded. Stephen squeezed her hand, prompting her tongue to untie.

“Yes. Yes! I swear, Garnet.”

“Then it will be discussed.”

Connie raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth, but then she caught herself and remembered the fact that Garnet was merely one of three guardians, and there was still the entire colony to think about. She nodded, glancing at Stephen for confirmation. He had been staring at her this entire time, trying to keep a smile off of his face.

“Thank you,” Connie said.

“When can you be arriving?”

That was a good question, and Stephen’s earnestness was enough for both Garnet and Connie to know that he would be there. Connie thought for a moment.

“Well, I can be here tomorrow around the same time, and then maybe we can work out a schedule. I can even keep it on the docks for us to check. We can work it out!”

Garnet bowed her head in a nod, the closest thing that she would give for her own gratitude. However, she still looked at Stephen, and the boy sighed reluctantly. It was time to go for the day, and they all knew it. Too much had been apparently risked already.

“The skin, Connie?”

“Right. Right, yeah, I’ll - “

Connie ran back to her backpack, grabbed it, then ran back to the selkies. She unzipped the compartment and pulled out the silver fabric, just as amorphous and magical as when she had first put it in. She realized that she was going to have to come up with some excuse when she got home as to why her belongings smelled like salt and fish.

Garnet sighed with relief at the sight. She took the skin from Connie and held it like a coat as Stephen began to pull the sweatshirt off. Connie turned aside and stared back at the cliffs, trying to ignore the sounds of shuffling clothes behind her. It took only a second before she heard the flopping sound of Stephen’s body on the beach, and she turned back to see him just like when he had hugged her on the dock, pale and cherubic and with a round flippered body instead of legs.

“Here, for next time!” Stephen said, holding out the pile of sandy clothes.

For next time. Connie giggled as she knelt to pack all the clothes in her pack. She just finished putting the sandals on top when she felt Stephen tackle her from the side, nearly knocking her onto the beach.

This hug was tighter than all the others, warmer than any hug she had felt in her life and filled with thanks. Stephen pressed his face into the crook of Connie’s neck, and she held him gently as she sat down on the sand. Her friend, her only friend, sighed deeply before he drew back, still blinking away tears; Connie found herself doing the same.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Connie could only nod. Her voice was lost in emotion, and for the first time, that was a good thing. Garnet tapped Steven on the shoulder, and the boy turned to his guardian. He left Connie’s side and pushed himself towards the ocean with the woman striding straight into the surf. The cold water didn’t appear to affect either of them, not the adult’s bare calves nor the boy’s bare chest.

Before he had to go, Stephen looked into Connie’s eyes once more. The silver inside his iris turned to black, then to deep brown, filling his entire eye. He waved, then fell back into an oncoming wave. Garnet dove headfirst into the surf, her cloak billowing behind her. The skin sunk into the water, then reformed as smooth and as solid as it had first been when she breached. Stephen’s seal head rose beside her, taking a puff of air before sinking into the Atlantic.

Connie sat on the beach. Through the fog, in the last few moments, she watched the bodies of the two mythical selkies as they turned through the water. Before they left, Connie raised her hand and waved. She witnessed the two of them go, the only observer of the beautiful elder of the selkie tribe, and her charge, the silver boy.