Today was literally the worst. Judit was tired and achy after a poor night's sleep, her face sore from yawning. She'd had no idea what time it was when she woke up. Scrambling, stiff,  out of the darkness of the blackhouse, she could see that class had already started; the girls were gathered around witchy Dr. Goodmin in one of the walled gardens.

She tiptoed up to the back of the group. All the other students turned to look as she arrived. She wondered what had gone on, last night. Their nights would all have been as long and dramatic as hers, albeit in very different ways. I wonder if any of them rubbed, Judit thought. What a universe of drama, all squished-up in one petri-dish.

It was impossible to concentrate on Goodmin and her droning about plants and blight and God knows what other nyaff irrelevancies. Judit snuck a glimpse at Lintie. She looked just fine, sleek and zen, the same as ever. Brock and his boat and the stormy sea were completely hidden under her calm exterior.

The day went on, hot, dull and backbreaking. They had to winch up and carry endless buckets of water from the well to the gardens, pour them over the parched, sun-bleached crops. It was ungainly, heavy work, and before long Judit's arms were screaming and the side of her stupid dagging awkward dress was drenched in water, the fabric clammy, sticking to her leg.

They had to break up earth clods, pull up weeds. The work was boring as dag and they couldn't even chat, all split up across the gardens, taking turns under Goodmin's orders to tramp to the well. By the time Goodmin called out that they could stop for lunch Judit felt like she's already been working for four days, never mind four hours.

She went back to the blackhouse and paused awkwardly at the door. It was still pitch black in there, no fire. How the skit could she make food when she couldn't even see? Where the dagging hell was Gaen? He'd just disappeared. What would they do when they noticed he was gone? Would they blame her?

Judit's eyes flickered over to the next-door building, and her feet followed them. The door to their byre was open, chickens pecking the floor and purring gutturally around her feet. She knocked, timidly.

"Merle?"

Merle's head appeared round the corner, from the internal door.

"Judit! How's it? You okay?"

Judit nodded and went into the blackhouse. It was identical to hers, but warmer, cosier, the stench of the fire strong. There were other smells too, intriguing, like food.

"Hiya," Judit said, leaning on the wooden wall. "I just wondered what you were doing for food. What were we supposed to make?"

Her stomach illustrated her point by growling loudly and both girls laughed.

"I made a porridge with the stuff they left us in those pots," Merle said, pointing to a small stack of lidded crockery lined neatly against the far wall. "We had it for breakfast. It's gone hard now, so I was gonna have it with some butter on for lunch. They've left us quite a lot of butter, eh? I wonder how long it's supposed to last, when we have to start making our own."

Making our own butter? Judit thought. Cranking hell. What's butter even made of, anyway?

"What you having?" Merle asked. She was poking at the black cauldron hanging over her fire. It was starting to steam.

"I..." Judit faltered. "I dunno, actually. I haven't even lit my fire, kin."

"Licit?"

Judit nodded.

"Didn't Gaen do it? Last night? How can you guys even see anything in there?"

Judit inhaled deeply, then coughed, the smoke harsh in her lungs. "We... We kinda had a thrash. He stomped off and didn't come back. Like all night. I don't know where he is." She couldn't help the unease that crept into her voice.

"Don't sweat it," Merle said. "It's zen. I'll come light your fire after class. And you can share my porridge cake. It's nothin' special but I've got loads. I only gave Jaddy a tiny portion 'cos piggy needs a diet."

Was I supposed to feed Gaen? Judit thought. Skitting hell. Even Merle is better to Jaddy than I am to Gaen. At least she doesn't starve him.

"Come on." Merle deftly picked up a shallow white cake, wrapped it in a cloth. "Let's get out of here, go sit on the cliff and eat this. I think the boys are fishing today, we might be able to see 'em."

They left the village and found a spot on the cliffs. It was almost exactly the same spot Judit had shared last night with Lintie, though it seemed worlds away now, in the bright midday sunshine.

The porridge slices were stodgy and sticky. Merle had spread them thickly with butter, and the girls sat on the sunny cliff licking their greasy fingers and watching the boys' wooden boat bobbing out on the sea, its triangle of brown sail twisting in the wind.

"Gaen's there." Merle pointed to the boat. "I can see him. You can tell by the hair."

Judit squinted at the bobbing crew, but her eyesight obviously wasn't as good as Merle's. "Thank skit for that," she said. "I thought he'd done a runner, and they were gonna blame me."

"Don't worry about Gaen." Merle wiped her hands on the porridge cloth and folded it up neatly. "He does dag like that all the time, licit. At home he used to thrash with dad and then skit off and sleep in the park. And it wasn't even a nice park! He was just nesting up in all the dog crap and crisp packets."

Judit laughed at this image, and felt better. Until she saw Goodmin back at the village, waving for them to return to their mind-numbing toil.

"It's alright for some," Merle grumbled as she stood up, looking out to the boat on the sparkling water. "Why can't we do skitting fishing and those nyaffs weed?"

The afternoon was dull. Judit was so exhausted she felt like someone had put her body in slow motion. They had to do more weeding, then cook, prepare bread and a vegetable stew in the cauldrons in their kitchens.

Bread was harder than you'd think. First the students gathered to watch Goodmin violently knead flour, water and some gross bubbly slop on the grass outside the teacher blackhouse. It seemed to take forever, forcibly punching and rolling. Then she put it under a towel to prove and they were banished back to their own thatched cells and told to do the same.

Merle came and lit Judit's fire, quickly, as if it were easy, but Judit didn't want to cook. She curled up in the boxbed instead, trying not to look at anything, trying not to think about her life.

The only thing keeping her going was that Rama had said they would be meeting this evening as usual. She counted the seconds, imagining his face in her head. She imagined them kissing, then going further, and she let herself get lost in the thought of him, let it course through her body. Oh, Rama, oh Rama. I love you. Save me from all this!

After who knows how long she heard a knock at the door, the sound of someone entering the byre. Gaen. She scrambled quickly out of the bed, full of shame. She didn't want him to find her here, lazing about, all wrapped up in herself.

She grabbed a kitchen implement and dipped it into the empty cauldron as if she were cooking, staring adversarially at the door.

"Judit?" The voice was nervous, uncertain. It wasn't Gaen.

"Jaddy? I'm in here."

A white face peered round the door. "Rama wants you. He wants us to meet him at the beach." Jaddy withdrew immediately, like he couldn't stand to be in the house for one second longer than he had to.

Judit practically ran to the shore, the wind in her hair and skirts. She saw Rama straight away, in a blue shirt and beige trousers, his back to her, looking out to sea. The colours blended in with the sand, the water, like he and it were one, and he made all of it more beautiful by his presence.

Her haste bought her a wonderful few moments alone with Rama, waiting for Jaddy to lumber up behind. She was so breathless she could barely speak, but it didn't matter. Just seeing his face, his eyes, as deep and blue as the sea beside them, was enough.

Rama was standing next to a dark wooden boat, pulled high onto the sand, the same one she had watched bobbing earlier from the top of the cliff. He smiled at her warmly, but didn't say anything till Jaddy arrived.

"Jadrun's had a bit of a daggy day today," Rama smiled again, at both of them, Jaddy blushing and looking at the floor. "So I thought we might do something fun, take his mind off it. What do you think, Judit?"

"Spec." Judit beamed. "I'm up for it."

Rama looked right at her, grinning. For a moment they were alone on the beach, there was no Jaddy, no Goodmin, no Gaen. Everything was perfect.

"Perfect," he said, as if he knew. "Let's go."

***

Judit dipped her hands over the side of the boat, trying to reach the cool water with her fingertips. This was just heaven. The wooden craft rocked gently, the water making a rhythmic slapping sound against the hull. Jadrun sat at the front, looking out over the water. Rama was at the back, manning the sail.

"So, is driving this thing easy, or are you just really good at it?" Judit looked at Rama cheekily.

"A bit of both." He laughed. "I sailed a lot as a kid. Actually, when I was a teenager—a bit older than you—I was in the Albian National Sailing Team, under twenty-ones. So I've had a lot of practice."

Judit smiled and looked away. That was so fit. I wonder what he was like as a teenager, she thought, and it made her blush.

Rama stood and pulled the rope tight, wrapping it nimbly around the wood.

"Here," he said. "There! That's what I wanted to show you. Jadrun look! Over there!"

He pointed to a stand of rocks, sticking out of the sea, about two bus-lengths away from them. At first Judit couldn't work out what he was talking about, but then she got her eye in, and squealed. Scores of black eyes looked up, right at her, surprised by the sound.

"Selkies!" Rama said, triumphant. "Aren't they something?"

The rocks were lousy with smooth, fat fish-dogs. They were huge, at least as long as Judit was tall, and lay around, basking, as if they didn't have a care in the world. They had faces like dogs, whiskers and everything, but their sleek, shiny bodies had flippers and fins like a fish. There was something almost comical about them, splurged out on their backs and bellies, blobby in the sun.

"Look! Look guys!"

They were all three at the front of the boat now, and Judit had a pang of fear for a moment they would capsize, the wood moving uncertainly beneath them.  Rama stepped back to even out their weight, then pointed again.

"Look. They're coming to see us."

Two of the selkies blubbered to the edge and plopped their comical bodies off the rock, disappearing in the water. They were gone for a moment then their heads reappeared, closer to the boat, bobbing silently in the waves.

Judit sat back on the deck. They may have looked comical on the rock, but now, in the water, they didn't. With only their round heads visible, their big black eyes, there was something unnerving about them. They seemed too sentient. Too human.

"It looks like a person," Jaddy said. "In the water."

Rama nodded. "Native myth has it that selkies often take on a human form. And when they do, they're apparently very seductive, impossible to resist."

Six human eyes were trained on four selkie eyes, which were watching them right back.

"The legend says selkies know when a woman is dissatisfied with her life," Rama continued. "It's often the wife of a fisherman, away at sea, in the stories. Her tears fall into the ocean, and that summons the Selkie. He meets her, looking out for her husband at the beach, and lures her away. The human loves the Selkie deeply, gives up everything, but the relationship is hopeless. The Selkie can never truly be with her, not really. He belongs to the sea."

Rama pulled the boat expertly about-face. "It's invariably a tragedy. Anyway, let's get back. Magical, eh? They were just about extinct, all around the Albian coast. This Northern Caledian population is thriving now. It's one of the real successes of the project."

Judit sat next to Jaddy on the way back, trying not to think of dark eyes, of hopeless seduction. She remembered her tears, dropping down the cliff the night before, and shuddered despite the sun.

They were silent until the boat pulled back into the bay, Rama using the force of the waves to get it far enough onto the beach for them to jump out without their feet getting wet. He expertly secured the craft, then made his goodbyes. Judit felt despondent as she watched him leave.

She fell into step with Jaddy as they trudged back to the village.

"How you getting on with Merle?" She asked.

Jaddy shrugged. "How you getting on with Gaen?"

"I hate him."

"I hate her too." He curled his lip. "They're both daggers. You should have seen him on the boat today, when we were fishing, going off on one. He caught this big fish and Dr. Dean told him it was the wrong kind, that he had to throw it back, and he just went total skitting brute. And she's done nothing but wrack on me since we got here. She's such a b-hole."

Judit couldn't help but smile at Jaddy's off-spec Sutton dialect. That was the most she'd ever heard him say.

"Yeah, she's crank with you, I've heard her." Judit said. "But, have you ever thought of just like.... giving it back? Stand up for yourself."

Jaddy scowled and looked away. "We licit got the worst matches," he said. "I dagging hate them both."

"Merle's not that bad, when you get to know her," Judit replied. Just like everyone keeps saying to me about Gaen, she thought. And they can all skit off.

She took her leave from Jaddy and turned towards her own blackhouse. She just wanted to eat, sleep, wrap up and think of Rama. But that wasn't going to happen.

The byre door was open. Gaen was home.

Author note: thank you so much for reading! Ok, I've literally never been on a sailing boat, so please, please if you have, tell me how differently I should describe what Rama is doing here! Do I get away with it? I just made it up. 😳