Free The Selkie Sorceress (Seal Island Trilogy, Book 3) by Sophie Moss Page B

thick chunks of gleaming amber took up most of the room. Rich velvet tapestries of white and gold lined the walls. On the floor, a labyrinth of lava twisted around the small glass chest where a crown of blackthorn lay on a pillow of blood-red satin.
    The white petals were still in bloom. Even after all this time. Nuala darted through the near-boiling water, whipping her back flippers around in a powerful whoosh to shatter the chest. It broke, pieces of glass nicking her skin as she lifted the precious crown carefully into her mouth and carried it from the room.
    There were few who knew the secrets blackthorn held in its branches. This crown would give them the truth; the events of the past were written into its thorns. She swam, fast, through the cave, coming back out into the room with the cauldron. She was almost to the mouth of the cave, when she caught her reflection in the broken shards of a ship’s mirror.
    Pale eyes stared back at her, but her pelt was black now—like the rest of the selkies. She knew Moira had stolen her white pelt, but she had not seen it with her own eyes until now. She edged closer, but a flash of movement behind her had her whirling.
    Moira glided elegantly out of the other hallway. “How nice of you to drop by for a visit, my dear.”
    Nuala cried out in pain, dropping the crown, when a scorching blast of heat seared her skin.
     

     
    MOIRA CAUGHT THE crown as it fell, biting down lightly on the still-blooming branches. Nuala’s limp form lay on the floor of the cave and Moira left her there, carrying the crown back to her bedroom. She laid it lovingly on its bed of red satin, and lifted the precious object to her vanity. She used her flippers to corral the broken glass into a pool of lava, where the shards melted and dipped into the rivers of fire.
    She swam back out to the mouth of the cave where her eels waited, their golden eyes glimmering in the darkness. She nodded to Nuala and they slithered toward her, wrapping their long bodies around her like ropes. They bore her from the cave, lifting her onto a dark ledge high on the ridge of the volcano.
    She wouldn’t kill her. Not yet. She wanted her to suffer—a long, slow, painful death. The scream of the eels in the distance signaled they had left her on the ledge. Where she would stay until the volcano erupted.
    Moira turned to the mirror as the broken pieces reformed, rippling in the darkness. The mirror pooled, dripping liquid silver down the ebony walls. An image reflected—her sister entwined in the arms of the man who should have been hers. She hurled a rock at the picture, shrieking with rage.

 
     
     
     

     
     
    T ara’s face broke into a smile when she spotted Sam walking up the road from the harbor. She lifted her arm in a friendly wave. “I didn’t expect to see you back on the island so soon.”
    Sam climbed the hill, closing the distance between them. “I have some news for Liam.”
    “About Brigid?”
    Sam nodded, pausing beside the sheepdog perched on the stone wall and scratching him behind the ears. “I’m not sure what it means yet, but I want him to look into it.”
    “I’ll let him know you’re back.”
    “Thanks,” Sam said. “What are you doing on this side of the island?”
    “Brennan said his knees were hurting a bit.” She tilted her face up to the sun. “Probably because of this crazy weather.”
    Sam lowered his hand to his side. “Do you think he’s managing alright without me? I don’t like leaving him alone on the farm for so long.”
    “He has help. Dom visits at least once a day and Liam’s been lending a hand when he can.”
    Sam’s gaze drifted over the mossy pastures to the gray stone barn. “You didn’t happen to notice anything…strange while you were there, did you?”
    Tara frowned. “Strange?”
    Sam nodded.
    “Not that I can recall,” Tara said slowly. “Is there anything in particular?”
    Sam dipped his hands in his pockets. “Do you have time to walk back