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For a moment, Morgan had been walking on seafoam. It had just been her and Keltie, alone on the back of the boat, sharing the evening air; everyone knew, now, who they were, that Morgan was gay and she had a girlfriend who could be weird and clumsy sometimes because she wasn’t great at being a person yet. And nobody had judged her for it.
She didn’t need to put bits of herself in boxes; she didn’t need to run for the hills the moment she had a scrap of a chance to leave Wilneff Island; all she needed was the girl in her arms, soft but strong, with strawberry blonde hair and big eyes and a voice and heart she loved so much. And then, they’d realised Serena wasn’t on the boat.
“I have to save her,” Keltie was saying, her own voice breathless with panic. Morgan couldn’t look at her; all she could see was that dwindling shape, a pale spot in the dark ocean, desperately struggling but too far gone to reach the life preserver they’d thrown for her.
“How?!” she demanded, her chest tight with rampant fear. Serena was so far away and Keltie… Keltie couldn’t even… “You said at the beach, you can’t swim like this-” A tug around her waist cut her off.
“I need my seal-skin.” Keltie’s voice was suddenly quiet, a desperate whisper that Morgan remembered all too well from the day they’d broken up. Her hands were on the translucent, watery garment still wrapped around Morgan’s middle, and when their gazes met, her dark eyes were wide and teary.
“Wait, but…” Morgan trailed off, something clenching in her chest as the implications set in. Suddenly all she could hear was her girlfriend’s explanation, what felt like so long ago; if she took back her skin, if she broke her anchor-chain to land, she couldn’t return, not for seven more years. “If you put it back on, you won’t be able to-”
Keltie’s hands, large, soft, gentle like she was, closed around her own to cut her off. “It’s my fault,” the selkie girl insisted, her words shaking with desperate conviction. “I must fix this.”
“But we just-” Morgan tried to plead, but it all jammed up in her throat and she had to force those awful thoughts out. “It’s too soon,” she went on breathlessly, trying desperately to think of any other way out of this. “We have plans-”
“Sometimes plans must change,” Keltie cut her off, squeezing her hands tightly as welling tears sparkled over her freckles, “my love.”
For a moment, Morgan couldn’t reply; what else was she supposed to say? How could she be here, caught between the first girl she’d ever loved and the friend she’d accidentally pushed away? How could she let someone drown just so she could have her happy ending? How could she pull the trigger on what she and Keltie had? How could she throw out her plans all over again? But she couldn’t find an answer. Her girlfriend was right, this could only end one way.
Unless she pulled a different trigger; unless she stepped up, and did something unthinkable, something reckless, something stupid and crazy and so much like Keltie and so little like herself. Unless she threw out Keltie’s hasty plans along with her own. That night one of them went down, that was the bed they’d made and neither could deny it, but she wouldn’t make her girlfriend lie in it.
“No!” she almost shouted, snatching her hands away; Keltie’s eyes widened, hurt and confusion and frantic terror spiralling, and in an instant Morgan felt awful. But the impulse was there, the answer, and it wouldn’t be denied. “No, Keltie, not this time, they can’t…”
She turned away before her girlfriend could say anything, her heart thumping in her chest; she fixed her gaze on Serena’s dwindling shape, and her hands pulled Keltie's seal-skin tightly around her, clutching like a lifeline. A deep sea-air breath filled her lungs, her purpose set. “You can’t swim like this, without… but- but I can.”
“Morgan!”
Her hands were on the railing and her feet over open ocean before Keltie’s desperate, soft hands could snatch her back; she threw herself forwards, clean over the lower decks of the stern, and for a moment up was down and down was up before she straightened herself up and dove on towards the churning wake. Behind her she could hear more voices, people seeing and shouting and running to help, but none could hold her now.
Morgan had been swimming since she’d moved to Lunenburg, almost from the day she’d set foot on Wilneff Island, and she met the rising wall of water like an old friend. For a moment she was weightless, bitter-cold rushing around her and roaring in her ears, before her instincts kicked in and she hauled herself back above the water.
Distantly, she could hear more shouting from behind, but none of it mattered. Find Serena, that was all there was, and in a moment she was moving again, out and down and on. The sea fought her with every stroke, but Morgan fought harder, a mountain moving amongst the peaks. Find her, find her, it was all that mattered, and though the water stung cold on her arms and sea-spray battered her eyes and throat, her limbs bit hard into the foam and she went on.
She dove as the life-ring loomed, opening her eyes to the dark below. The salt stung her eyes like fire, but through the gloom she could see the dark ridges of the reef, a jagged range they’d barely all been spared from. Forests of coral stretched for the skies, bubbles rose idly, and in the middle of it all were seals, circling down in a spiral towards the depths, calling out a death-song in cries she couldn’t hope to understand.
And at their apex was a shock of blue, drifting idly down; that was her! She wasn’t moving; had Morgan come too late? Had she talked too long with Keltie, and lost her chance despite it all? Had those awful, frigid depths already taken their toll, the Witch of November come five months early? Was it all over?
No, not if she could still move it wasn’t, and there was nothing that could make her stop now. Even as those awful thoughts spiralled she descended, reaching desperately for that fading form, until suddenly Serena shifted, and her eyes snapped open, and for one long moment their desperate gazes met. And then Morgan’s grip found her friend’s arm, and with strength she didn’t know she had and an unfamiliar fire in her heart she fought to surface with the other girl in tow.
She threw Serena towards that great black ceiling, churning with windswept waves, and she heard the girl gasp desperately as she broke through beside her. Morgan gasped too, then; she didn’t even feel the burning in her lungs until fresh air flushed it out, stinging salt scraping down her aching throat while her friend hacked up her lungs for dear life beside her.
They found the life preserver together, free hands loosely grabbing the hard, buoyant plastic, as distantly a cheer went up. The ring jerked, and Morgan raised her head just enough to look over the black waves; the boat was just a smeared blur of light in the distance, but she could see it growing larger each time the ring was tugged, and as it drew close and she raised the strength to wipe her eyes, she could see a crowd gathering on the stern, and a group of older kids and crew hauling in the line tethered to the ring.
She was silent as they worked, listening to Serena’s coughing settle down to deep but thankfully regular breaths. Finally the stern came into arm’s reach, and she watched as the pilot, hands shaking under orange waterproof sleeves, reached down and carefully pulled Serena up onto her shuddering feet. Jules and Lizzie crowded around her, frantic questions falling from their mouths, but Morgan barely heard them.
She waved away the crewman’s hands and gripped the rim of the stern herself; one great effort had her up, onto her knees and then onto her feet as around her the mood of conversation changed. For a brief moment she could still feel panic, hesitation, worries rising like static over the rear of the craft. But the sight of both girls alive and on their feet, if barely, seemed to stem their concerns, and a wave of relief seemed to wash over the group.
And only then did it finally sink in, just how Morgan felt. Her clothes were soaked through, ruined probably; the translucent outer dress hung like a prison rag, freezing and clammy where it stuck to her legs; beneath it was no better, the black fabric of her dress was dripping everywhere, and it clung to her like a limpet. She could feel the sting of salt against her skin, and yet…
She didn’t really feel cold, even now; the air on her skin and in her throat felt just as chilly, and the borrowed seal-skin wrapped around her arms was as light and airy as it had always been, since Keltie had first thrust it into her uncertain hands. Her heart was warm, still aflame even as her adrenaline drained away, and although her limbs and joints ached and there was sweat running all down her and a burn still in her chest, she didn’t feel like she’d pushed herself nearly as hard as she knew she had.
“Thank you,” she heard Serena say softly, almost a prayer whispered to the salt-sea air. Morgan looked up to see the others all crowed around her, her matted hair spilling out over an orange blanket one of them had thrown over her shoulders. “Morgan, I…”
“It’s okay,” was all Morgan could say, holding her arms up gingerly. “I’m okay. You… you should get some rest.”
“So should you,” Lizzie cut in, worry turning her voice almost accusatory; her brow furrowed behind her glasses. “You’re the one who just swam all the way out there. Which was awesome, by the way, but also super dangerous!”
“I’m fine,” Morgan repeated, shrinking back into herself a little. A glance showed Jules had a similar expression, awe behind worry in her eyes, and all three girls seemed to hesitate, like they weren’t sure what to make of what had just happened.
Morgan knew they were just worried, that she’d scared everyone by leaping into action like that, but instincts were still instincts, deep-set and unforgiving; a month with Keltie’s unconditional love hadn’t quite yet broken her brain out of its fear of conditions, of being judged. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on-end, and she couldn’t find any more words, everything sticking in her throat.
“Morgan Kwon!”
Morgan nearly jumped; her gaze snapped over just in time to see the crowd part above the stairs, and between the gathered teenagers, a familiar shape emerged, soft arms fighting their way through with unusual ferocity. Keltie burst fully into view in a moment, almost tumbling down the stairs as frantic legs carried her down to the boat deck. Her arms were wide and waving, and she made a beeline for Morgan without even a glance to the others.
“What were you thinking?!” she demanded, and Morgan’s heart broke at the way her girlfriend’s voice hitched; there were more, fresh tears in her eyes, spilling down over the freckles above her cheeks. “Do you not realise how dangerous that was?” Morgan just shook her head, unable to meet her gaze.
“I had to save her,” she said quietly, gesturing weakly to Serena and their other friends, the last conversation she’d had with Keltie lingering in her mind. Her girlfriend frowned, her cheeks puffing out with protective anger.
“I should have gone!” she burst out, sniffling loudly in the cold air. “This was my mistake to fix, love, and I told you I would, I must, but you…” She wiped her eyes, rubbing them with one palm, and suddenly, stepping forwards, Morgan found the words.
“I couldn’t lose you,” she said quietly, feeling a lump burn into her ragged throat and her own eyes sting again with different, softer saltwater. Keltie blurred behind the wave, but her shape grew in Morgan’s vision, and the other girl didn’t even have time to react before those soft, loving arms were tightly, desperately around her, hands pressed up against the back of her shoulder blades.
Against her front, she felt Keltie shift with a stifled sob, and gently she brought her own arms in, pulling her in just as tightly so that their chins landed on each other’s shoulders. Through the strawberry blonde forest of her girlfriend’s hair, strands tickling her cheek, she saw a glance run between the other girls, before they all gave her knowing looks; Jules cracked a wry smile.
Serena’s smile was smaller, more uncertain, but no less sincere, and in her eyes was an understanding Morgan hadn’t seen from her in a while. She gave a small nod; it was all she needed to tell Morgan everything she needed to hear. It was okay that Keltie was here, that Morgan had brought her, that they needed time to themselves sometimes, and that now, the girl in her arms needed her far more than the girl who’s life she’d just saved.
So Morgan nodded back, gratefully, and held on to her girlfriend as she cried softly, while the others quietly made their exit from the boat deck. In time, Morgan knew, there would be a conversation there, explanations and apologies to be made, but right now, on that lonely stern, with the crowd dispersing above them, all that mattered was her and Keltie.
“Morgan, love, I was so worried,” the selkie-girl said finally, her voice still thick with emotion. Morgan just tightened her embrace, sure, despite herself, in her choice.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” she teased gently, running one hand through tangled blonde hair. “We both are, which we wouldn’t be if you… if you’d…” she stopped short, her words failing her, all of her feelings already bare. “I’m sorry, Keltie, I just can’t find the words right now.”
“You don’t need to,” her girlfriend promised her, her tone soft but firm, punctuated with a quiet sniffle. “You’re right.” Her grip loosened, and Morgan followed her lead, the two of them falling comfortably apart. Her girlfriend’s hands, large and warm, found her own again, and this time she held them gently.
“Huh?” Morgan couldn’t help asking, even as she felt a familiar kindling of warmth in her chest, the one Keltie always brought out of her. She knew she was probably a wreck, soaked in the freezing spray, her clothes still leaking like a punctured bilge and her hair a matted tangle around her head. But it didn’t matter, not when the selkie-girl was there, with all the light and love she had come to long for lingering in her wide, dark eyes.
“We are together,” Keltie filled in the gap softly, something between a sniffle and a chuckle escaping her throat. “Your friend is safe, and so is the Rookery so…” she trailed off for a moment, drawing out the last syllable, and one of her hands slipped free from Morgan’s to reach up towards her face, “all that’s left that matters, is us.”
“When did you get so poetic?” Morgan teased fondly; she felt her face heat up as her girlfriend’s fingers brushed against it, tucking one loose strand of sopping wet hair behind her ear. Keltie’s face broke into a broad smile.
“When I became yours,” she said simply, eyes shining, and Morgan felt a warm, familiar pull as their faces drew close. “I really do love you, Morgan Kwon.” With each word, her breath was warm on Morgan’s cheeks, and her own glowed a gentle warm pink. “Only someone very special could pull magic from my seal-skin like that.”
Morgan’s eyes widened, the weight of implication in those words sinking, but it didn’t damp the warmth in her heart. “Is all your magic love-based?” she teased, enjoying how Keltie’s cheeks grew a little bit pinker. “Well,” she went on, sure she was grinning like an idiot but not caring who saw, “that just proves what you already know.”
“What do I know?” Keltie asked, her smile shrinking as a downright adorable look of confusion replaced it.
“That I love you too, Keltie,” slipped out without Morgan even having to think, her heart speaking for her, and she gently squeezed their entwined hands; Keltie beamed again at that, closing the last remaining distance between them. Down at her side, Morgan’s free fingers played a little with the seal-skin around her waist, that little scrap of enchanted seafoam that had somehow leant her a little piece of her girlfriend’s power.
Their foreheads bumped comfortably, eyes closing as the two girls just took in each other’s presence. Morgan knew what was coming next, and her heart thumped happily with anticipation, but it was Keltie who said it.
“Kiss time?” she asked softly, that little question making Morgan giggle like she was seven all over again.
“Kiss time,” she agreed, holding her partner close as, for the first time that night, she leaned in. She reached up, cradling the back of her girlfriend’s head with all the tenderness in the world, and their lips met softly in the warm space they’d built between themselves.
Keltie tasted like she always had; of saltwater, and anchovies, and ozone, and Morgan relished it. But it was more than that; it was freedom, love, hope, acceptance, boxes burned down to let their contents free, and plans set loose into the wind, unheeded. It was Keltie, with all of her weird seal-quirks and her innocence about humanity, and it was her, with all of her pointy edges and the walls she was still struggling to take down, and it was perfect.
And when they parted, breathless, eyes shining, and laughed together before Keltie fell in again and rested her head against her girlfriend’s chest, nothing else mattered. It didn’t matter to Morgan that she was soaking, or that she still had apologies to make to Serena and the girls, or that she was going to have to explain all of this to her mom, and probably persuade her to let Keltie move in with them. Because, in that one, long moment, Morgan was walking on seafoam.