Selkies' Skins Section Two
installment 34
Chapter 20: Finnol's Hunt (part 3)
Finnol collapsed into the booth, his vaguely Victorian era ship's captain attire blending in perfectly now with the pirate air of the favored reenactor's hangout. In the pocket of his doublet lurked the letter from Kirsty's school on her progress, mundane, magical, and "merstudies." It had joined the small notebook crammed impossibly full of the notes from his recent adventures and the tales that had been... brought to his attention otherwise. The rotund and sandy Marc slipped into the booth on the other side, the largest flagon of ale he could get in each hand. One he slid in front of the man that looked rather like a piece of wilted seaweed. Marc drank from the other himself, then kept his voice carefully jovial."This is unusual. What's going on that you're calling me? On a phone no less, instead of by carrier pigeon."
He normally would have finished with "Who died?" but did not, given the usual sadness in Finnol's eyes being more pronounced than usual.
"Needed a friendly face outside the Office."
"Etain's still out then? I've not seen you looking so out of sorts since that fight you had-"
Finnol waved his hand and took a drink from his own flagon. Marc let the observation go, waiting companionably. After a long pull, he continued.
"How's your girl then?"
"Well enough, though Aunt Belara is rather concerned about her nightmares getting worse. She's a Sensitive you know."
"Aye, crack shot with knowing where a pipe's leaking. I remember her finding that without a set of dowsing rods and saving me a thousand pounds since I didn't have to have all the plumbing redone."
"Well, she's got other gifts than waterwitching. She's got the Sight too, now and then."
"Ghosts? Or you mean like clairvoyance and such."
"Foresight. So those nightmares bother me."
Marc took a pull from his flagon, not disturbed in the least about the thought of "little Kirsty" being able to do more than point out leaky pipes, though he himself had no special powers. He'd always wanted them, and always loved the mage characters in the fantasy books... particularly Gandalf and Harry Potter. This was probably part of why he loved helping gather modern, supposedly true, sea and ghost stories for Finnol's book... and often found many other odd happenings for him.
"She loves her Mum, hopefully it's just worry dreams."
"Maybe, maybe not. She gets involved with quite a lot."
"Where are you headed, Sailor?"
Finnol quirked his lips a bit in a smile at that, while a large bead of condensation coursed down the side of his flagon. "Crazy with longing most like."
Marc watched him a while longer, pulling slowly at his ale. "You got some bad news somewhere. Out with it boy. What's eating at you really? Other than no Etain."
"Do you believe in the gods?"
"In what way? Metaphor, literal?" Finnol gave no further indication of what he was meaning. "I do I guess, plenty of strange things to point that they might exist. Probably not as all powerful as they say in the old myths, probably quite a few of them too. Maybe I just need more ale though." He took another drink, disconcerted about his friend's unusual turn to the world of religion.
"And psychic powers I know you believe in."
"Everyone's got 'em." Marc agreed amicably, far more comfortable with that thought. "Whew, thought he was going to go looney and say the gods are going to destroy mankind or something."
"So... what about some of these mythological beings you bring me stories about, in your professional opinion?"
"I believe in them. And I think they've got as much right to exist, if they're real, as you and I do. In a proper habitat for them too, not some lab. How great would it be to be friends with a mermaid and hear about what it's like on the seafloor where we can't go?"
"And if you saw one, or found some proof, would you keep it quiet?"
"Are you nuts? Of course! Well, maybe not a boat eating kraken... but if it talks, definitely."
"Fancy a little cloak and dagger?"
Marc leaned forward, forgetting what was left of his ale. There was a spark in Finnol's eye that he'd seen now and then, usually when catching the very end of a broken off conversation between he and his wife. He'd seen it in the eyes of people at the Fisheries Office too, when even those who were paper jockeys seemed to have the determined step of someone set on changing the world.
"You've got my interest."
He normally would have finished with "Who died?" but did not, given the usual sadness in Finnol's eyes being more pronounced than usual.
"Needed a friendly face outside the Office."
"Etain's still out then? I've not seen you looking so out of sorts since that fight you had-"
Finnol waved his hand and took a drink from his own flagon. Marc let the observation go, waiting companionably. After a long pull, he continued.
"How's your girl then?"
"Well enough, though Aunt Belara is rather concerned about her nightmares getting worse. She's a Sensitive you know."
"Aye, crack shot with knowing where a pipe's leaking. I remember her finding that without a set of dowsing rods and saving me a thousand pounds since I didn't have to have all the plumbing redone."
"Well, she's got other gifts than waterwitching. She's got the Sight too, now and then."
"Ghosts? Or you mean like clairvoyance and such."
"Foresight. So those nightmares bother me."
Marc took a pull from his flagon, not disturbed in the least about the thought of "little Kirsty" being able to do more than point out leaky pipes, though he himself had no special powers. He'd always wanted them, and always loved the mage characters in the fantasy books... particularly Gandalf and Harry Potter. This was probably part of why he loved helping gather modern, supposedly true, sea and ghost stories for Finnol's book... and often found many other odd happenings for him.
"She loves her Mum, hopefully it's just worry dreams."
"Maybe, maybe not. She gets involved with quite a lot."
"Where are you headed, Sailor?"
Finnol quirked his lips a bit in a smile at that, while a large bead of condensation coursed down the side of his flagon. "Crazy with longing most like."
Marc watched him a while longer, pulling slowly at his ale. "You got some bad news somewhere. Out with it boy. What's eating at you really? Other than no Etain."
"Do you believe in the gods?"
"In what way? Metaphor, literal?" Finnol gave no further indication of what he was meaning. "I do I guess, plenty of strange things to point that they might exist. Probably not as all powerful as they say in the old myths, probably quite a few of them too. Maybe I just need more ale though." He took another drink, disconcerted about his friend's unusual turn to the world of religion.
"And psychic powers I know you believe in."
"Everyone's got 'em." Marc agreed amicably, far more comfortable with that thought. "Whew, thought he was going to go looney and say the gods are going to destroy mankind or something."
"So... what about some of these mythological beings you bring me stories about, in your professional opinion?"
"I believe in them. And I think they've got as much right to exist, if they're real, as you and I do. In a proper habitat for them too, not some lab. How great would it be to be friends with a mermaid and hear about what it's like on the seafloor where we can't go?"
"And if you saw one, or found some proof, would you keep it quiet?"
"Are you nuts? Of course! Well, maybe not a boat eating kraken... but if it talks, definitely."
"Fancy a little cloak and dagger?"
Marc leaned forward, forgetting what was left of his ale. There was a spark in Finnol's eye that he'd seen now and then, usually when catching the very end of a broken off conversation between he and his wife. He'd seen it in the eyes of people at the Fisheries Office too, when even those who were paper jockeys seemed to have the determined step of someone set on changing the world.
"You've got my interest."
~~~~*~~~~
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Copyright 2012 by Teresa Garcia
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Installment Uploaded here: Jan 29, 2013
Uploaded to Dreamwidth: Jan 29, 2013
Live Journal
Dreamwidth
Copyright 2012 by Teresa Garcia
Like the story? Vote here at Top Web Fiction. Don't forget to check out the other great stories at the Web Fiction Guide.
Got a question? Ask it and maybe the answer will be revealed in the story, or in a comment on the extras page if not part of the story itself. Spy a typo? Website code broken? Would you like the episodes to be longer or shorter? Please let me know!
Installment Uploaded here: Jan 29, 2013
Uploaded to Dreamwidth: Jan 29, 2013
