When Mike emerged from the washroom, shaved and showered, Liath was already dressed in the clothes he had scrounged from his suitcase for her. A too–large white shirt with the sleeves rolled back overhanging sweatpants that covered her feet, his hooded blue sweatshirt on the chair back beside her.

She sat in the watery light at the window working his comb through the ends of her hair. The eyes she turned to him when she heard his step were dark and circled, smudged with grief, yet her gentle smile as their eyes met set off a resonance in his heart.

He thought that he had never seen something quite so strong and fragile at the same instant, and an answering smile spread across his own clean-shaven face. He crossed to her and laid his hand on her shoulder. "I need to go into the station," he said, the regret clear in his voice.

"Oh, I know that Michael," she said her voice soft, "I don't want you to worry about me, please. Do you think that Maxine will have been called about…Teddy yet?"

"They found Teddy's body yesterday and had identified him by evening, I am sure she will know by now. They will have sent someone out from the station here to see her." Mike's brow lowered slightly God only knows how many times he had been that officer at the family's door.

"Well I am going to go home and change, and cancel the gig I had today and then go over to Maxine's to be with her for a while. See if there is something, anything I can do to help." While they had been speaking Liath's fingers had been busy making a rough plait that she now flipped over her shoulder as she stood, drawing in a long and steadying breath.

Mike gathered her close in his arms and looking into her face said huskily, "You were so upset last night Liath, are you sure that you want to…"

"Yes Michael, I'm sure. Maxine has been a good friend to me, and I want to be there for her if I can, at least until her family arrives. I think her daughter and son-in-law live in Edmonton, so it will take some time for them to arrive. She is going to need someone Michael. I'll call you later this afternoon, OK?"

In a few minutes he stood in the hotel parking lot watching her drive off in Clare's sedan and he felt his heart contract painfully as she disappeared from view. He wanted to follow, to tell her to wait, to stay with her. Drawing in a purposeful breath he shook his head, and fit the keys in his car door.

***

The station was abuzz with activity even though it was just after 6:30 AM. He flashed his visitors badge at the front desk to receive a single raise of a hand from the harried officer at the booking desk, waving him through.

He made his way to the squad room and was greeted by the warm, heavenly smell of coffee and it made his mouth water instantly. He made his way over to the kitchenette as though he were a bloodhound on the scent, where one of the other detectives he recognized greeted him.

"Hey Celluci," he said as he handed Mike the steaming mug he had just poured. "I take it you heard?"

"Yeah, Graham, my partner in Toronto, called me." Mike replied as he poured a packet of sugar into the cup.

"There's a briefing in conference room three in about twenty minutes. Good thing Sergeant Mitchell made a Timmy's run this morning, eh!"

He waved his hand over the large flat box of dozens of donuts, indicating that Mike should help himself, and then continued, "We found a desk for you; I'll show you where. There were a number of faxes on the machine for you this morning and you'll be able to access your e-mail from there."

"Thanks," Mike said as he fished a couple of sugared donuts out of the assortment. You must be slipping Celluci, he thought to himself as, balancing a paper plate of donuts on top of his coffee mug and picking up his attaché, he followed, what the hell is his name? It's French, I know…P...Pel, something…Pell…Pellerin!

When they had arrived at the small desk already stacked with files, Mike dropped his attaché on the chair and set his coffee down. He loosened his tie and checked his watch and then said to the other man's wry grin. "Thanks Pellerin, I guess I have about 15 minutes to look these over?"

"See you in the briefing," Pellerin raised a hand and moved off towards his own desk.

There was barely enough time to quickly look through the faxed sheets that Dave had sent him, and he skimmed through an update that Kavanaugh had forwarded him from Vancouver, making some quick comments in the margins. He dusted off the sugar granules from his fingers and then flipped the file closed.

When he had first started reading Dave's distinctive handwriting in the notes on the printed pages his thoughts had flown briefly to consider Dave on the phone to Vicki.

He was pretty sure she would be pissed that he had Dave call her instead of him but really, Vicki pissed was nothing new so…. He would have to call her today though, there was a name in the new file that had appeared with some regularity. Vicki's missing person Orion Gaelan, his name surfaced somewhere in the paperwork in each of the files. I need to know what she knows, he thought, yeah, after the briefing I will give her a call. He took one last swig of the now cold coffee and, files under his arm, made his way to the conference room.

***

Liath was sorrowing; her heart was breaking at the loss of her young kinsman Rory, lost to a fisherman's greed and violence, He had stayed in seal form and the sea had taken his remains, as he had wished.

He was gone and there was nothing but the sorrow in her heart to mark his passing. The tears ran in a slow overflowing trickle trembling on her cheeks and she wiped at them as she drove.

A mournful tune welled up in her, slow rolling as the sea and aching and she knew it for its title the moment her mind settled into the melody, reminiscent of the hush of the withdrawing tide. "Rory's Lament," so she would mark his loss.

Rory lost to the fisherman's greed and Teddy now to the sealers and the mobsters. How could she comfort Maxine, for the loss of her boy? She did not know, but she had to try.

She pulled the sedan into the drive and lifting her bag of damp clothing from the seat she climbed wearily out of the car and swung closed the door.

She squinted her eyes against the too bright sun that poured down between the scattered cloud, morosely wishing for grey skies and rain that the whole world might mourn with her. She thought briefly of the grey green water at the surface of the ocean, buoyant and glowing with the sun from the air above. She wished, oh, she wished that she could escape this day in that liquid sky, but she knew her friend needed her.

With a heavy sigh she started up the steps to the house wondering what how she would tell Clare and fumbling for her keys. The door was suddenly drawn open and Orion stood with his hand out to her, his eyes the dark and solid brown of the selchie. "Liath, I need to speak with you," he said.

***

"You're sure of this Orion?" she couldn't help asking though she knew by his voice he was repeating what he had heard word for word.

Orion nodded as he sat with his head bowed and the tears slowly slipping down his face.

"Rory's gone," he whispered.

Liath reached out to lay a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and then she chucked him gently under the chin and when his brown eyes met hers she said, "We must focus on the living Orion; you know that, don't you?"

Orion sighed and nodded, finally agreeing in a sad voice, "I know."

Clare came into the room, laying the tea tray on the table, three steaming mugs and the cozy covered pot and cream and sugar.

"Liath," she said, "Do you not think that it might be best to tell your…Michael about this? He is a detective after all is he not?"

Orion's eyes came up to Liath's, "you can't tell the police Liath, Linda will find me and…"

Liath shook her head slowly. "Oh Clare, I really wish I could, but I…I haven't told him what I am yet, and until I do…I just don't know how I could explain what I know. I know that Michael is a good man and I already love him but…"

"You know that when he finds out, everything will change, Liath. It always does. They think they love us, but when they know, then we are somehow less, an animal, a thing to be possessed," Orion said, his voice not much more than a broken whisper.

Clare drew in a breath to speak, but Liath overrode her.

"Orion, you know that you're only talking about Linda. It's not fair to Clare or Becky or any of the others that know to say they are the same as the one who hurt you. Yes, I wish that Becky hadn't told Ben but…well it's too late for that now. She shook her head once more in denial. "How could they think that any selchie would have a part in their murderous activities? I just need to think, think about the best way to handle this…the best way to stop them."

Clare looked at her friend and there was sympathy in her voice when she said, "Liath you can't wait too long, you know that. What if they hurt someone else, do it again, or what if more of our own are hurt in retaliation? What about that? You know that's what happened to Teddy. Oh my God, Liath what are you going to say to Maxine?"

"That is why I have to think, Clare," Liath moaned as she dropped her head to her hands. "I need to think how I can protect The Society and the good work that we do. I need to think how I can keep us safe, and I need to think how I can stop this madness." I need to think how to tell him.

"I just need to think…"