I reached into my left pocket and produced a knotted bag filled with chunks of raw meat.
Like I said, I came prepared.
I opened the bag as close to shore as I could manage without dumping the meat on land. Droplets of blood splattered on the water. Not enough to draw a vampire’s interest, but enough to lure the selkie.
I emptied the bag of its contents. That ought to do it.
Less than a minute later a head surfaced. The selkie had opted for her female form. Good. That made communication easier.
I waved. “Hey, friend.”
She swam toward me with all the grace you’d expect from a water-based monster. Long, reddish-orange hair fanned out behind her and her alabaster skin glistened in the dim light.
“Care for a swim?” Like many of her species, her voice had a singsong quality to it.
“No thanks.” I produced the badge that identified me as a knight. “I’m London Hayes and I’m here as a Knight of Boudica to officially request your evacuation from these waters.”
The selkie moved to float on her back, revealing small breasts and a flat torso. Her bottom half was gray and slick like a seal.
“Too bad. I’m partial to these waters,” the selkie protested.
“Your personal preference is irrelevant. As I said, this is an official request.”
Her eyes narrowed but remained focused on the dark sky above. “This lake is public property. I have the same right to be here as everyone else.”
“Only when you don’t break the rules, which you did when you attacked a boy. He wasn’t thrown to you as an offering. He was on a picnic with his family.”
She turned her head to peer at me. “You can’t prove it was me.”
“Don’t have to. I’m a knight, not an adjudicator.”
The selkie pursed her full lips. “It’s discriminatory.”
I folded my arms. “What is?”
“Children are nutritious. All that baby fat is delicious.”
I ignored the unpleasant image that sprang to mind. “I don’t make the rules.”
The selkie spat a fountain of water high in the air. “What do vampires care about the safety of human children? They see them as a source of food the same as I do.”
“There are two problems with that statement. One is that the kid you tried to eat was a werewolf not a human. Two is the assumption that vampires share food.”
The rules that protected residents weren’t necessarily in place for the benefit of humans. There were, however, times like this when they helped me do my job. Even Perth didn’t care much about one werewolf child. He did, however, care very much about his bottom line. If this selkie continued to terrorize people, park businesses would suffer.
Her breasts and torso disappeared beneath the surface of the water as she mulled over my argument. “The vampires sent you?”
“Yes,” I lied.
“Meh. Don’t care. I’m staying.” She submerged her head, which was the selfie equivalent of na-na, I can’t hear you.
Great. Of all the selkies in all the lakes, I had to get the one with the attitude of a spoiled teenager.
I waited and counted to ten in my head. No sign of her.
The easy way was officially off the table. Good thing my uniform was waterproof. Minka would be proud of me for wearing it.
“If I have to step foot in this cold water, you’re going to regret your contrary attitude,” I called.
The water remained still.
Kicking off my boots, I removed my sheath and dropped my weapons on the shore. They were no use in the lake. Magic underwater wasn’t impossible, but there was more resistance. I’d have to take that into account.
I waded in and immediately shivered. Too bad the uniform didn’t cover my feet. I dove headfirst as soon as I reached hip level. I was a strong swimmer thanks to youthful adventures I’d rather not have experienced. They made me a better knight though.
My eyes burned underwater. I scanned the murky depths of the lake for any sign of the selkie. She had the advantage of living here and would know the terrain.
But I had the advantage of magic.
I tapped into the minds of the aquatic life around me to see whether I could garner any local support. Blank minds abounded in Hyde Park. Great.
Before I could widen my range, something wrapped around my ankle and yanked me downward. I bent sideways for a glimpse of my captor, expecting to see the selkie. Instead I saw a scaly sea serpent whose bottom half was currently curled around my ankle.
The selkie had minions.
Another sea serpent appeared to the left of me and twined its body around my arm.
I reached for its mind, but there was nothing firm to latch onto. The selkie must’ve had her own method of controlling them. If she were a siren, I could make an educated guess, but selkies were a different species. A siren could lure you to your death with an enticing song. A selkie’s vocal skills were limited to a singsong voice.
I kicked and punched in an effort to loosen the serpents’ grip. My resistance only made them tighten their hold on me. Any tighter and they’d cut off my circulation. I’d lose half my limbs.
Like my mother, I had elemental magic, although I didn’t have a reason to use powerful water magic very often. My needs were more basic, like filtering my drinking water so I could hydrate without falling ill.
I focused on the water until I felt a connection form. The sensation was like fitting a key into a lock and twisting until you felt that satisfying click. As soon as I felt the click, I pushed the water down and around—down and around—until a small water cyclone formed and caught the serpents in its spiral. They’d been so focused on securing me that they hadn’t noticed the aberration.
I slipped free and propelled myself to the surface for a gasp of air. I could hold my breath under water longer than any human I knew, but I didn’t have gills.
My head crested the water and two serpent heads bobbed up next to me less than a minute later. I’d have to work on my water skills. As my mother would’ve said, this was what happened when I didn’t practice.
“We meet again,” I told the serpents. “Not to worry. I can do this with one hand tied behind my back.”