Caitir Ross Mitchell's Story

“Hey Caitir, what are your plans for today?” Evan asked, a little too casually.
Caitir looked up from her books and raised an eyebrow. Evan leaned against the table, obviously trying very hard to look nonchalant, but Caitir could see that he was practically quivering with excitement. She shrugged. “Not much. It’s a book day. My advisors’s still at the conference, so I won’t be getting out into the field for a while. I figured I ought to get caught up on some of these new papers.” Caitir eyed her fellow grad student as she spoke, wondering what mischief he was planning on getting them into today.
Evan scoffed. “Caught up? Like you’d ever fall behind on anything. You’re making the rest of us look bad, you know,” he said, smiling that disarming smile of his. Caitir found herself returning it. Evan was like that. Everything about him was genuine and unselfconscious; he was such a profoundly good-natured person that it was hard not to respond to it. And he seemed to actually enjoy—seek out, even—Caitir’s company. Even now, after almost nine months, it still caught her off guard. Normally a solitary person, Caitir hadn’t yet quite figured out what to make of Evan’s attentions.
“It sounds like you have an alternate activity in mind.”
Evan’s grin widened. “Well… It turns out that the hurricane uncovered a wreck site about an hour and a half down the coast. An old one. The dig team gets in tomorrow, but it is currently,” he paused for dramatic effect, “unsupervised.”
Caitir gave him a flat stare. “What are you suggesting, Evan?”
“I’m suggesting we strap on our snorkel gear and go check it out!” he burst out, unable to contain his enthusiasm any longer.
“Evan! We can’t just go poking around like that. We could compromise the site!” She tried to sound shocked and disapproving like a good archaeologist, but she didn’t manage it very well. An ancient shipwreck was an exciting find, and Evan was offering her a chance to see it while it was still pristine. This could get them in all sorts of trouble, but it was a hard offer to pass up.
“Oh, come on, Cat, I know you want to. Don’t give me that holier-than-thou rubbish, I can see right through you.”
Caitir looked coolly at him for a few long seconds, then sighed and pushed the stack of papers away. “Okay, I give up, you’ve got me. If anyone in the department finds out, though, I’m totally blaming you.”
“Deal. But if I get booted from the university and sent home in disgrace, you totally owe me dinner.”
Caitir smiled again despite herself, and blushed.



Evan’s pickup jounced and shuddered over the narrow dirt track. They had left civilization behind about half an hour ago, and it was a rough ride over the wild heath. “Christ, Evan, this is really in the middle of nowhere.” Caitir absentmindedly fiddled with her cell phone, but they were way out of reception range. “How did anyone even find this wreck?”
Evan chuckled. “Don’t ask me! I’m just the middleman. If anyone knows, it’s Beth. I heard about it from her in the first place, and she’s always up on all the departmental gossip. I—oh!” he said suddenly, as they crested a ridge. “Here we are!” The jagged, rocky coastline stretched out before them, sullen and faintly sinister in the overcast weather. It all looked the same to Caitir, but Evan had been out here already and apparently he knew what he was looking for.
It took almost another half hour to scrabble down the hillside and pull on their wetsuits and snorkel gear. By then the wind had picked up slightly, and the clouds had darkened with the threat of rain. Evan looked up at the sky disapprovingly. “Well… the weather doesn’t look too good. Even if it holds we ought to be out as soon as the tide starts to turn. The water will get rough on the rising tide, and it can be pretty dangerous.”
Caitir nodded. She was glad she was an experienced diver: this was definitely not a trip for novices. As she gazed out across the choppy waters, she felt a momentary flash of trepidation. This was dangerous, and they were out here alone, out of cell phone range and a long drive from help. Evan had more dive hours logged than anyone else she knew at the university, and Caitir herself had always had an uncanny affinity for the water, but she couldn’t quite suppress the feeling that this was a bad idea.
But she was too curious and too committed now, and the little voice of caution went unheeded.

The wreck lay close to shore in a deep depression in the sand. Caitir marveled at the improbability of it: what were the chances of the rocks being placed just so, directing the currents of the hurricane-churned waters precisely there, to gouge away the sand and uncover a ship that had lain buried for perhaps hundreds of years? That someone had, furthermore, somehow stumbled upon it on this wild stretch of coastline was nothing short of miraculous.
The water was turbulent, so visibility was poor, but it was shallow enough that they could get a pretty good look at the wreck. Most of it was still buried, and boats weren’t Caitir’s specialty anyway, but it certainly wasn’t a modern ship. It looked like whoever had come across it might get lucky: this could be a really significant find. As they swam, Caitir’s mood began to improve, lifting as the weather took a turn for the better. The nagging sense of apprehension faded.
It seemed like hardly any time at all had passed when Caitir came up to the surface for a moment and saw Evan waving at her. “The tide’s coming in!” he hollered across the waves. “A few more minutes, then we should get going!” Caitir gave him a thumbs-up. The minutes passed. Caitir could feel the currents growing stronger, and she was just about to turn back to shore when something caught her eye. A small flash, like light reflecting off dull metal. She ought to just leave it, she thought. Even if it was an artifact, she didn’t dare pick it up. She did not want to have to tell her advisor that she’d been poaching someone else’s site. But…
“Cat! Come on!” Evan shouted when she surfaced again.
“Just another minute, Evan!” she called back. “I saw something—I wanna check it out!” She dove before he could respond, so if he protested, she never knew.

The glint of metal had come from near the edge of the wreck site. She swam in the direction she thought she’d seen it and—there! There it was again! Nestled into the crags of one of the rocky islets that were strewn all up and down the shore. Caitir swam eagerly towards it. As she approached, though, she encountered a problem: the rocks made the currents faster and much more unpredictable. With the tide coming in, she had to fight to stay on course. Her earlier unease returned, stronger than ever, and she almost gave up. But the mysterious glint had taken a powerful, almost unnatural hold on her curiosity, and she found she couldn’t bear to turn away. Not yet.
Closer and closer she struggled, now using nearly all her strength just to keep from being bashed against the rocks. Her lungs burned with the effort of holding her breath for so long, but she was almost… there…
She spotted the object. A mirror…? she thought, puzzled. Caitir reached for it, and—

Everything seemed to happen all at once. An immense surge of water hit her, dragging her along as helplessly as a scrap of seaweed. She snatched at the mirror, grasping blindly as the wave slammed her violently into the wall of stone. Dazed, panicked, and disoriented, she couldn’t stop her body’s involuntary reaction to the shock: she gasped for breath, and choked on seawater.
Dark water swirled all around her, and she couldn’t tell which direction was up any longer. There was a strange sensation, almost like falling, like she was being dragged into some terrible sucking void. A rip current? she thought in sudden terror, the mirror utterly forgotten. The pull was irresistible. And the water, the water was everywhere, surrounding her, ensnaring her, choking her. Caitir’s consciousness flickered, but that did not spare her from the horror of realizing that she was going to die.
Her last thought was of Evan. She felt a stab of guilt, thinking about how much trouble she would get him in if she drowned. Then darkness closed in.

Caitir awoke with a crashing headache. What…? What happened? Vague impressions of water and darkness and fear tumbled around in her mind for a few seconds before coalescing into recollection. Hit my head… got pulled out to sea? She remembered breathing in that choking lungful of seawater and spared some mental effort for a moment of groggy amazement that she hadn’t drowned. Guess I washed up… somewhere. Far off. Or Evan would’ve found me. Would’ve taken me back to town, or-- Shit! Evan!

If she’d washed ashore and Evan hadn’t found her yet, he’d be hysterical with worry by now. Hopefully he was still looking for her, and hadn’t gone for help yet, or he’d be in for a world of trouble for her sake. She had to get up, get moving, and find her way back to him before things got out of hand. Ruthlessly shoving past the pain of the headache and the mental fog, Caitir opened her eyes and--

What.

She was an archaeologist, not a geographer, true, but Caitir was still pretty sure there hadn’t been any freaking old growth forests anywhere near her last location. And even if there had been, that didn’t explain how she had managed to wash up in the middle of one, with no ocean or water of any kind in sight. Her mildly concussed brain was still too sluggish to work up a real good, throat-constricting, heart-racing panic, but it certainly made an admirable effort. Particularly when she tried to sit up. What in the bloody hell-- what is going ON?! She flopped and squirmed in frantic confusion. Had her wetsuit gotten tangled up in something…? Straining, struggling, Caitir attempted to wriggle out of… whatever it was, not really sure what she was doing but too close to hysteria to care. Finally she won free, and lay in the leaf litter-–the freaking leaf litter, what the hell--panting and shaky. Once she had recovered somewhat, she finally sat up, and began to take stock of her situation.

Great. I’m naked. On top of everything else, I have to be naked. Where her swimsuit had gotten to she couldn’t imagine, especially since she had still been wearing her wetsuit… No. That wasn’t a wetsuit. It was… a skin. A skin? A… sealskin, from the looks of it.
At that point, Caitir gave up. The logical part of her mind that was trying desperately to make sense of what was happening fell silent, shoved behind a very high, very thick wall, where it could have its nervous breakdown undisturbed. Logic and sense weren’t going to do her any good in circumstances that had left bizarre in the dust and galloped straight on through to impossible and surreal. Until she could ground herself in reality again, she’d just have to… improvise.

Caitir snatched at the seal fur, wrapping it around herself in a sort of awkward sarong. She rolled over, getting ready to stand up, then flinched and yelped with pain. A long line of red welled up on her thigh, and she cursed, digging around in the leaves for whatever viciously sharp object it was that she had nearly sat on. When she found it, her face lit up with pleasure and relief. Her diving knife! If she was going to be stuck naked and alone in a mysterious forest, the sturdy, multi-purpose knife might be the difference between life and death. Now that she was at least marginally better equipped, she figured it was about time to get moving. Whatever strange alternate reality this was, it seemed to operate on the same basic physical principles as the normal one. Which meant that her body ought to function more or less the same, as her aching head attested to. So… step one was water. Food, shelter, and attempts to find civilization--God, she hoped there was some, she didn’t know how long she’d last in an endless wilderness--would all have to wait. Caitir staggered unsteadily to her feet, wondering which way to go.

Finding water abruptly ceased to be her primary concern when she caught the unmistakable sound of something trampling through the undergrowth, coming in her direction. She darted behind a tree, heart fluttering with anxiety. An animal? A person? She gripped the knife tightly, holding it at the ready. Maybe… someone who could tell her where she was. Desperate curiosity warring with caution, Caitir peeked out from behind her hiding place, eyes scanning the forest, waiting for whatever it was to reveal itself.

A young man stepped into Caitir’s view. He was slender, pale, and dark-haired, wearing oddly archaic clothing. A pair of round glasses rested on his nose. Another human being, thank god. He might be able to help her--Assuming he wasn’t some kind of predatory sociopath wandering the woods in search of victims. Her awareness of her nakedness heightened uncomfortably. But what’s up with the historical reenactment clothes? Caitir wondered. Is he some Renaissance Faire junkie or something? They don’t even have those in Scotland, do they?
…but what if this isn’t Scotland? Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas any more, whispered the traitorous part of her brain from behind its mental wall. Caitir viciously quashed it. Not now.

The man spoke. “May I ask what you are doing here, Selkie?”
Caitir stared blankly at him for a few moments. Selkie….? Nope. She shoved that behind the wall too. If this keeps up, it’s going to get pretty crowded back there.
“Um…” she temporized. “I’m… looking for the nearest… town.” Her eyes narrowed, and she paused. Should she tell him what had happened to her? Might he know what to do, or would he be able to lead her to someone who did? Ought she trust the first stranger she met in this peculiar place? …No. Safer not to. Until she had a better sense of what--and now, who--she was dealing with, she’d better play it close to the chest. If there was one thing Caitir had learned in life, it was that showing weakness in the wrong situations attracted all the wrong kinds of attention. Stay aloof, appear calm, appear confident. It put the sharks off the scent. “What are you doing here?” she demanded in return, hoping to direct the conversation away from herself. Maybe if she sounded imperious enough he’d be convinced she actually belonged here. Yes, I am the magic seal queen of this here pile of bloody great trees. Do as I command and I will grant you three wishes. Caitir resisted the perverse urge to laugh. Stop that. Keep it together, Cat. She gripped her knife tighter.

Odysseus frowned at the arrogance of this woman, “you are heading the wrong way if you want to reach a town, though I doubt anyone would accept you considering your attire…” he told her with a faint smirk. When he was asked what he was doing here he sighed, “I am a botanist, I am looking for a rare plant that I thought was around here.” He lied to her, though he was interested in plants… mainly poisonous ones. “Any way do you have a set of clothing or are you content on staying naked in the forest where there are quite a bit of plants that can give you rashes and hives and all that fun stuff.” He commented boredly as he pushed his spectacles back in place as he sheathed his dagger considering her not to be a threat at the moment.

“You are heading the wrong way if you want to reach a town, though I doubt anyone would accept you considering your attire…” the man told her, smirking. Ha ha, yeah, you’re hilarious, Caitir thought sourly. She looked him over again skeptically when he told her he was a botanist –- he sure didn’t look like he was dressed for grubbing around in the woods, and he didn’t appear to have any collection containers or anything. Well, so be it. They were both holding something back; she supposed that was only fair. “Anyway, do you have a set of clothing, or are you content on staying naked in the forest where there are quite a bit of plants that can give you rashes and hives and all that fun stuff?” her eccentric companion continued. He adjusted in spectacles and slid a dagger that she hadn’t noticed before back into its sheath. The dagger’s presence was unsettling, but its sheathing was at least a little comforting. And if it came to that, she did still have her diving knife. Caitir somewhat reluctantly returned her attention to his question.
“Er… well. I do seem to have… misplaced my clothes. Um.” She looked hopefully at him. Was he offering to lend some to her? Some goddamn pants would sure as hell make this whole situation a lot easier to deal with.