CHAPTER ELEVEN
nightmare or premonition

𖦹 ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ˚⋆˚ 𖦹

THE SEA IS ERRATIC AROUND HER, slashing against her skin in icy sheets of saltwater. Lightning strikes through the dark clouds and thunder soon follows, blaring across the ocean's surface like a sick fanfare. Horizontal rain splashes into her eyes, almost completely blinding her though there's not much to see — she can't even sense any fish hiding in the reefs beneath her, feeling that chilling reminder of utter isolation in her very bones. Her bare feet slip on the rock that she's marooned on, sharp barnacles opening cuts along her legs and arms. There isn't any other land around for miles, as far as she can tell. When she tries to straighten up and scope the surroundings more clearly, Cove loses her footing and goes spiralling off the rock. Descending further away from salvation.

She chokes as the water overflows into her oesophagus, drowning her slowly. Her nose burns from the sudden sensation of oxygen depletion. The flailing of her limbs only seems to make her sink quicker, unable to form the correct sequence for swimming in her human form. There's something seriously wrong.

She can't swim to save herself. Her limbs won't cooperate, her sealskin nowhere to be seen. Cove hardly needs a crystal ball to tell that her doom is inevitable.

The waves swallow her whole, dragging her even further from the surface and down into the darkness. Her eyes won't adapt to the new underwater environment, stinging to the point it's hard to keep them open. It's not often that she feels completely human, especially not in the deep sea. She doesn't welcome it. Being completely mortal makes her feel like a fish out of water. Despite her vision failing her, a vague outline of something makes itself clear before her as it swims into her view. It takes her a moment to discern what the thing is due to her nose not reacting to its scent, her senses suddenly unresponsive.

There's a seal before her. A curious sound chirps at the back of its throat, flippers gliding in circles to bring itself closer. She can make out a cloak of snowy fur covering its thick blubber, speckled by little stygian spots like an inverted galaxy, or like black freckles upon a pale complexion. No, this isn't just a stranger. She'd recognise that coat anywhere.

She swims closer, fighting against the powerful current to reach the seal.

"Cordy?" Cove tries to call, but her voice is garbled by the water. It washes into her windpipe and she chokes, clawing at her throat helplessly as she sinks further toward the seabed. She frowns at the lack of humanity glittering in Cordelia's round eyes. That side of her has faded — an animalistic instinct to hunt overpowering her. Where Cove's humanity has grown stronger, Cordelia's lack of it has only weakened her to the point of no return.

The seal in Cordelia's skin lunges, sharp rows of pearly teeth gaping as if Cove's her chosen prey. Kindred spirits turned cat and mouse. She flings her arms up in defence as if it'll do anything to save her from the clear fate bestowed upon her, bloodied jaws and all. Searing pain slices down upon her as her flesh is torn to ribbons, those once smiling teeth cutting in close to the bone, the cerulean sea surrounding them tainted by the stain of her own blood.

  Cove screams, her heart pounding in her chest. The phantom pain still lingers on her body as she sits up. Her hands latch onto each of her arms in search of anything amiss, relief washing over her when she feels that they're dry and mostly smooth with the exception of her bandages. A tremor courses through her violently, her entire body shaking like a leaf from the aftershocks.

  Fallon rushes over to her, the other girls in the dormitory rubbing their eyes in their beds. Someone flicks on a light and the clock on the wall tells her it's almost four in the morning, every hair on her body standing on end. Hot tears begin to slide down her blotchy cheeks, a consolation about the cold ocean's haunting her. She's never been so afraid of the place she calls home.

  "What's wrong, my love?" Fallon asks, pushing her hair out of her teary face. "What happened?"

  She can't form coherent sentences, so instead Cove just sobs harder and leans into her friend's welcoming arms.

°•.•°•.•°•.•°

COVE COULDN'T FALL BACK ASLEEP after her nightmare, even if it had gone a little hazy in her memory. She went down to the Black Lake whilst everyone else slept, tentative of the water as it creeps closer to her. It's agonisingly early and everything is luckily still asleep, the world hibernating around her until the sun crests the distant munros.

She crouches on the pebbly bank, slowly inching her fingertips towards the rippling surface. In her hand, she holds the seashell necklace that connects to the matching ones her selkie colony share. The chilly freshwater sears her skin, but she perseveres, tracing runes over and over until a small glowing whirlpool appears before her. Almost like a picture frame or a television, the water parts to show a vision of her friend's sleeping face.

"Cordy?" she whisper shouts. "Cordelia!"

Her nose twitches as she comes to, her dark eyes squinting against the sudden onslaught of blue light. Cove's just relieved that she caught her whilst she's in her human form.

"Cove?" she asks groggily. "The sun isn't even up. Why're you awake at this hour?"

"I had a nightmare," she explains briefly, a frantic edge to her words. "A bad one. Is everyone okay back at home? Where are you all?"

"Calm down, Vee. We're resting by the usual rock pools until the gale calms down. Everything's fine. Seriously, what's got your knickers in a twist? How bad exactly was that nightmare you mentioned?"

Cove exhales, relieved. "Oh, it was horrible. There was a storm and I was stuck at sea and I couldn't swim, Cordelia. I was drowning. To make things worse, you were there underwater with me but you weren't yourself at all. You started to attack me, almost like you weren't a selkie anymore, as if you'd succumbed or something. You fully became an animal."

  Cordelia raises an eyebrow. "Well, you're in just luck. I'm still me." She wiggles her fingers to demonstrate.

"I can see that," she snarks, eyebrows furrowed. She always gets grouchy in the mornings. "You're sure everything's okay? I never have dreams like this without reason. Sorry I keep going on about it, I only mean— um, that it just felt so real."

All of a sudden, Cordelia seems more alert. "Are you saying it was like a vision?"

"Sort of."

Worry gnaws at her expression. "Should I get Lenore?"

"No, no," Cove hurries. "Don't wake her up. She'll be absolutely knackered from all the other responsibilities she has to deal with already. Um, maybe if you just mention it later on? Whenever you get the chance. I think she'd want to know in case it is serious."

Cordelia gives her an uneasy look. "Okay. Listen, Cove, my sweet, you need to go back to sleep. I love you but that means I know what you're like when you've not had enough rest and you're, no offence, a complete prick. The sun rises soon, but you could still get in an hour or two I bet."

  "Right. Yeah, that sounds nice. Thank you for your help, Cordy. I'll talk to you later. Fair winds and a following sea," she wishes sincerely.

  "And to you, Cove," she says with a lopsided grin. "Sweet dreams."

  Her fingertips glide through the glacial water, splicing through her friend's face and sending ripples spilling across the lake. The morning goes quiet, leaving her to settle in her whirlpool  of thoughts alone. She heaves a sigh and decides to start heading back to her dorm.

As Cove turns her back on the loch, Cordelia's reassurance begins to fade and the creeping feeling of something wrong dawns on her, that same dread from her nightmare hardly being washed away by the rising sun.

author's note!

if they can talk to each other in fireplaces why can't they talk to each other through water

anyway