The Last Selkie: The Magi Series, #3

By Nicole Demery

A novice witch. A prickly sorcerer.

An undeniable connection and a choice that will change everything.

 

Four months ago, my life was turned upside down when the handsome, mysterious sorcerer, Jonathan Lynch, appeared one chilly winter morning along two other shocks: 

 

The death of my grandmother, the most powerful seer in a generation;

And my inheritance of her position on the Council of the Magi, along with the mysterious Secret she protected.

 

Now as one chapter of my life closes, it's time to make a choice that could change my life forever.

 

Should I pursue a plain life of scholarship and books?

Or take on the mantle of my family legacy and the destiny that goes with it?

 

It's time to face my magic and who I really am. Whatever comes with it.

 

Author's note: The Last Selkie is the third serial in the Magi Series. Readers will enjoy this series if they begin with Book I, The Mind Witch. Mind the cliff, but not to worry. Part four is on its way!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raglan
• Release date: May 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781950663422

Book preview

1

Introducing Dr. Whelan

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same

RUDYARD KIPLING, IF

C assandra Margaret Whelan.

As my name echoed across Alumni Stadium, at least three taxicab whistles echoed from the crowds. I stepped onto the stage in the octagonal cap and velvet-striped sleeves that marked me a Ph.D. recipient.

Congratulations, Dr. Whelan, murmured the dean, a middle-aged man with bifocals and receding hair gelled over his bald spot. A line of sweat trickled down his wrinkled brow—I wasn’t the only one struggling with the unseasonably warm spring weather.

I smiled and accepted his handshake as he handed me the diploma. His thoughts flickered through my fingers as he wondered how many students were left. He was dying for a good gin and tonic at the faculty club.

Thank you, sir, I said, releasing his palm, walking across the stage and back to my chair on the field amidst the thousands of other graduates.

And that was it. Although I had passed my defense four weeks earlier, I was now officially a conferred Ph.D. of Irish Languages and Literature. It didn’t matter that I was sweating like a pig under the blistering sun. It didn’t matter that I was trapped here with thousands of other graduates whose thoughts and feeling threatened with every errant nudge.

I was done. Finished.

I heaved a sigh, allowing the weight and pressures of the last five months to slide off my shoulders like water. Oh, water. I licked my lips and reached under my seat for my water bottle. Unscrewed the top and dipped my fingers in before taking a long draught. It worked—when the student next to me returned and brushed my shoulder as he sat down, his thoughts slipped over me like they were nothing but a stream. Nothing coherent. Fluid and just as fleeting. I’d used that trick more than once over the past few months. Even so, a swim or surf sounded amazing right about now.

After my grandmother’s death, my committee members had asked if I needed extra time to finish, even Professor James. But they knew as well as I did that if I didn’t push, I could as good as kiss my new job goodbye. I didn’t yet know what I was going to do about my inheritance, but Jonathan had told me to live my life as if I knew nothing while I dealt with Gran’s ashes and delivered my mother’s inheritance to her.

I hadn’t heard from him since leaving Manzanita, the day after the fire. A box containing Gran’s ashes had arrived in the mail two weeks later, along with a note:

---

When you’re ready, Sybil is too.

— J

---

I wasn’t ready to spread them, if that’s what he meant. I wasn’t sure I ever would be. But I sent a letter to my mother telling her I planned to return in May after finishing my defense. I’d drive through Seattle on my way to Oregon, and we could spread Gran’s ashes together if she wanted.

A telegram had arrived the following week.

---

I’LL SEE YOU IN MAY - STOP-

SYBIL

---

And that was that. I went back to thinking about little else besides the Brigid mythology and old Irish. A newly installed safe held Gran’s ashes, her will, and the mysterious black box that I had not been able to bring myself to touch again. Everything was stowed away in the back of my closet and the back of my mind. That is, until I went to sleep, where a shadowed man and a pair of green eyes lurked just under the veil of darkness.

I took a long drink of water and smiled into the rays of sunshine above me. The last few graduates were walking across the stage now. Soon the stadium would erupt in cheers and celebration. I knew I would have to open that closet sometime and make some real decisions about my immediate future—within the next few days, really—but for now, I was just going to enjoy my moment in the sun.

Just one more, Cass, come on!

I leaned down in my robes to wrap an arm awkwardly around Reina’s diminutive frame. My best friend had made the trip across the country to celebrate with me. We smiled at Aja, who pointed her phone at us while her boyfriend, Nick, looked bored and ready to go.

Babe, that’s like the millionth picture you’ve taken, he grumbled. The T is going to be packed with all these people.

Aja rolled her eyes, but put her phone back in her purse. I had no idea how she had wrangled Nick, her on-again boyfriend, as a date to my graduation ceremony, but I gathered her short skirt might have had something to do with it.

Nick offered me a grim smile and straightened his tie. Sorry, Cass. It’s just that we’ve all been sitting here in the sun for five hours and it’s wicked hot. I mean, you gotta be baking in those things!

I looked down at my gloved hands. They were just black muslin, but with the cap and gown, he wasn’t wrong.

It’s all right, I said. I have to return this thing anyway, so maybe you should go. I’m taking Reina to the Public Garden for lunch, so we’ll just catch you later.

Reina and I watched Aja and Nick disappear into the crowd, and then she turned to me with a wryly arched brow. Are you really going to take me on a whole picnic? she asked. Out with people and everything?

There’s a pond if I need to jump in, I joked. "It’s outside. We should be fine. Plus, I know you’re crazy about Make Way for Ducklings."

Reina grinned. Good. I did want to see a little of the city before I fly out tonight.

I smiled back. I still can’t believe you came. I didn’t really expect anyone to be here.

Well, Reina said. Who else would but me?

Congratulations, Dr. Whelan.

We both whirled around to find a face that had been popping in and out of my dreams for the past months parting the crowds on the football field like it was the Red Sea. But there he was. In the flesh and looking light and breezy in a light gray linen suit and a straw fedora that made him look a little like Jay Gatsby.

Reina blinked with delayed recognition as she registered my thoughts. Ohhhh, that’s the guy, she murmured.

Jonathan! My face split into a grin. And then, before I could help myself, I tackled him in a bear hug.

He was clearly as surprised as I was, though his arms wrapped automatically around my shoulders and squeezed tightly. Confusion—threaded with joy—rippled through my fingertips. Well, at least he was glad to see me, too.

As it happens, I am, he said as I stepped back.

You can still do that? I asked. I had only given him permission once to read my mind, but it looked like he still had the power.

Jonathan took a moment to look me up and down, as if to assure himself that I too was all in one piece. It would appear so.

Jonathan, this is my best friend, Reina West. I gestured toward her.

Hello. Reina managed to look imperious despite being more than a foot shorter than Jonathan. Not feeling so feline today, are we?

Jonathan froze and looked at me.

I shrugged. She’s a seer. And we have no secrets.

Then apparently I don’t either. He cleared his throat, then turned back to Reina. I’d appreciate if you would keep that particular bit of knowledge to yourself. For Cassandra’s sake, if nothing else.

Oh, don’t you worry about me, kitty, Reina said. I’m always on Cassie’s side. But, kitty, you have some explaining to do. Like where have you been for the past three months?

"Ma sa aach’ol, aj ke," he pronounced carefully with a slight tip of his hat.

Reina stared.

What? I asked. What did he say? I turned to Jonathan. What was that?

Q’eqchi’, Reina answered for him. Pronounced badly, but yeah. She shook her head. I haven’t heard that since I was a kid. Where did you learn it?

Jonathan shrugged. I’ve traveled a bit.

I guess so. Reina turned to me.

It was a happy coincidence I was able to see you walk, Cass. You looked quite the picture up there. Like a proper magician. Come, let’s see the whole thing. Jonathan winked at me and spun a finger through the air.

On my way to Hogwarts now, I said with a smirk. I twirled around once more, allowing the robes to flap around me. Actually, I can’t wait to get out of this thing. Jonathan, can’t you join us for a celebratory bite? We’re going to the Public Garden.

Jonathan, however, just shook his head. We have things to discuss, he said meaningfully. It’s time.

Reina just looked at me, waiting for my response. I offered a short nod.

It’s fine, Rein. I’ll meet you there.

She nodded, gave Jonathan a dark look, then turned. I’ll walk around the park on my own, then. Call when you’re there, all right?

She squeezed my shoulder, letting me know she would be watching, despite Jonathan’s ability to shield. Silently, I let her know it would be all right, and I’d fill her in later. Jonathan wasn’t here for nothing. As he said, it was time.

Careful with him. He’s a good one, but there’s something dark there too.

I will, Rein, I thought and stepped out of reach.

Jonathan, she said, shaking his hand. Nice to see you again. I hope the rest of your trip is pleasant. For everyone.

A quick frown flashed across Jonathan’s normally placid features, but he smiled back and muttered a bland farewell for himself. I watched my friend disappear into the sea of red and black, then turned back to Jonathan, who was fidgeting with his hat.

You look like a gangster with that thing, I told him.

He started. I beg your pardon?

I just chuckled. Come on, Daddy-O. Let me get out of these things, and then you can tell me why you’re really here.

You’re really a shameless flirt at heart, I said thirty minutes later. I had no idea. But you charmed your way to the front of the gown return line better than any seer.

Jonathan and I were taking the long way back to my apartment, walking around the Chestnut Hill Reservoir where he had first fished me out of the water. I stepped lively and carefree, still buoyed by the high of graduation. Jonathan was a bit more sedate, careful to place his impeccably shined shoes only on smooth spots of the concrete path. No cracks, I realized with a smile.

I’ve always liked Boston, he said, ignoring my comment. So full of history.

Don’t change the subject, you cad.

He shrugged, but the corner of his mouth twitched. I was doing you a favor. You didn’t want to wait in that throng any more than I did.

I don’t know if I could have strutted like a pigeon to get out of it, though, I replied.

A few of said pigeons marched ahead of us toward the water. Two of the males puffed up their feathers to nearly twice their size and proceeded to chase a smooth-feathered female. Before reaching the water, she turned and pecked at one of them until he flew a few yards away.

See? I said.

Jonathan shrugged. We’re all more animal than we think anyway.

You would know, puss.

For that, I received a dark green look. I couldn’t help but laugh.

It really is nice here, though, Jonathan said. I don’t walk enough during the day as it is.

You do your prowling mostly at night?

He smirked. You could say I’m something of a night owl.

He nudged one shoulder into mine. A shock of boyish glee skittered through me, causing me to lurch forward a few steps. I turned around to catch him back with a shock of my own,