The Selkie Enchantress by Sophie Moss

sea.
    “Reading your own words again?” Dominic joked, good-naturedly, from the doorway.
    Liam snapped the book shut. He hadn’t even heard his brother walk up the steps.
    “Here,” Dominic said, holding out a steaming cup of coffee. “Thought you might need this as you haven’t come down for breakfast and it’s nearly noon.” Strolling into the room, he eyed the scribbled notes on the desk. “Thought you’d be working hard on a new story, not trying to remind yourself of your skill as a writer.”
    Liam dropped the book onto the desk and took the coffee, swallowing a scalding sip. “Thanks,” he said, not even noticing when the hot coffee burned his tongue. His gaze drifted back to the blank computer screen.
    “Hey,” Dominic asked, concern knitting his dark brows when Liam didn’t even crack a smile. “Everything alright?”
    “Sure.” Liam forced a smile, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Just stuck on a bit of research is all.”
    “Might help if you eat something,” Dominic suggested.
    “Fair enough.”
    Dominic pushed away from the desk. “You’d tell me if something was up, right?”
    “Of course.” Liam lifted his mug, downing another sip, and then brushed past him on his way out the door. “Just a bit of writer’s block. It’ll pass.”
    Dominic turned. “Since when do you believe in writer’s block?”
    “Since today.”
     
    ***
     
    A sea of white surrounded him, pulling him under. The echo of waves shattering over a rocky coastline faded as Owen fought to breathe, seawater rushing into his lungs. He struggled against the strings of cold, white pearls snaking up his wrists, tugging him deeper.
    The silent, lonely kingdom rose to greet him. He kicked, fast and hard in the other direction at the first sight of the white corral turrets, the soaring towers of broken oyster shells and white-walled paths lined with ice-colored roses.
    “Owen!” Caitlin dropped to her knees, pulling him into her arms.
    A shaft of light streamed down from the surface. A hollow female voice called out to him and he struggled against the rush of panic, reaching for that fleeting beam of light. Warm arms came around him, hauling him away from that empty kingdom. Clawing his way to the surface through schools of darting silverfish and sleek black rays, he clung to the hands pulling him to safety.
    “Let go!” Caitlin shouted over the pounding rain. “Owen, let go of the rose!”
    He choked, coughing seawater from his lungs. He tried to sit up, to suck in those first precious breaths of life-giving air, but his fingers were still stuck to the frozen petals. The same petals he’d seen surrounding the towering gates of the palace. He started to cry, little choking sobs and Caitlin grabbed his hand.
    “It’s okay,” Caitlin said, rocking him as she pried his rigid fingers free from the petals one by one. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
    When his last finger uncurled from the rose, he scrambled back, away from the flower, crawling into her lap and sucking air into his burning lungs.
    “It’s okay,” Caitlin soothed, wrapping her arms around him as his fingers dug into the sleeves of her rubber raincoat. He clung to her as the rain poured down around them, soaking streams of rivers into the muddy earth. “You’re safe now,” she whispered, holding him until he stopped shaking.
    And when he finally lifted his head from her shoulder, tears streaked down his face and those big blue eyes blinked up at her through the rain in wonder, as if seeing her for the first time. Slowly, he raised a shaky hand to her cheek. “Mum?”
     
    ***
     
    Mum? “No,” Caitlin shook her head, quickly. “No. Owen, I’m not your mother.”
    “Then… who are you?”
    Reaching for the hand still touching her cheek, she brought it down and gasped when she saw the ice coating his fingers. She chipped away at it, rubbing his freezing hand frantically in both of her own. His fingers were as rigid as stones and she