The Mer Girl - Selkie Tales Short Stories by Ophelia Sikes
The Mer Girl
Selkie Tales
Short Story
book 1
Ophelia Sikes
Copyright © 2016 by Ophelia Sikes /
Minerva Webworks LLC
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Ophelia Sikes.
Book design by Ophelia Sikes
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and events are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
First Printing: February 2016
- v3 –
Half of all author’s proceeds from this book benefits battered women’s shelters.
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Believe
The Mer Girl
Chapter 1
“I have heard the mermaids singing,
Each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.”
-- T. S. Eliot
Wales, 819
I dove hard through the roiling surf, desperate to stay away from the battering force of those sharp rocks in the reef. Lightning flashed in blinding staccato overhead, as if some deranged god were playing drums at a boisterous May Day festival. But this was no night of rich passion to steal away a land-lad and stir up his musky heat. This was the worst storm I’d seen in my entire twenty-two years of life – and I was caught in its teeth.
A thick wave swept up from beneath me and I thrummed hard with my tail, twisting so I stayed in line with its direction. Trying to cross its force would be sheer madness. That was how mer-folk ended up broken on the rocks, their bodies fading to seal, dolphin, or whatever their totem was when their soul was shattered out of its living cage.
But I would not let that happen.
I cursed my sister for the twentieth time as the surf rolled me in a loop. She had known this storm-of-the-ages was descending on us. Everyone in our pod had known. And yet she had insisted I personally take a message to our elder sisters to the far north. Alone. The message was tucked in a clam-shell pouch, tied to my waist by the sturdiest of seaweed belts. But if I was pummeled into a bloody pulp against the rocks that wouldn’t matter much.
And I had not even one land-gift in the nursery to show I had existed. Not one child to carry on my name, my waist-long dark hair, or my glimmering green eyes.
Thunder shook the very water around me and I swept in a circle, straining to see in the pitch darkness. Were the rocks behind me now? If I misjudged I could break every bone in my body – some twice. I had roughened my skin to the thickest I had ever made it, but even that might not save me from the tempest. A desperate voice inside my head pleaded with me to fully go seal – to lose the arms and long tail which could be easily shattered. I could see why so much time was spent on training mer-children to resist. For if I changed now I would lose the advantage of my mental acuity. I would drop into a lower, instinctive level, and while it might seem an escape, it was a sure route to destruction.
Countless mer-folk had found that out the brutally hard way.
I drew in a long gulp of water, my tail driving hard against the current. Just one minute. All I needed was one minute of calm, to get my bearings, and then I would know –
Lightning flashed, long, hard, bringing the sky into full summer’s day.
A monstrous wave towered high above me. Higher than the highest fence around the clustered Welsh shore-towns. Higher, seeming, than the mountains which gathered clouds in those far reaches of the too-dry inland.
My mouth fell open –
A clang of metal sounded from behind me, and I spun in shock.
A sleek currach skin boat was powering through the water. The man was about my age, perhaps a year or two older, with rippled muscles of iron clearly visible through his soaked linen shirt. His dark hair was plastered to his head. But it was his eyes which caught me. They were the rich blue of the sea, and they were focused ahead, always ahead. The wave could have been a feather drifting in the breeze, for all the mind he paid it.
I turned and followed his gaze.
There was a boy there, perhaps ten, in a smaller currach caught in the rocks. The lad was hauling with all his strength on the oars but his slim arms were no match for the strength of the surf. He looked up and saw the man coming for him. He screamed in desperation, “Conor! Conor! Help!”
Conor’s muscles bulged with effort, his arms pumping in fierce rhythm, but I knew. There was no way Conor would reach him in time. The surf had the power of a grey whale and the humans simply could not stand up against it. No one could, save the Kraken himself. It was folly.
Conor turned his head toward the scream, his eyes desperately searching the source. “I’m coming! I’ll save you, Ryan. I’ll save you! I swear!”
I should have dove deep into the depths. Left the humans and their egotistical ways to suffer their fates. Why were they out in this maelstrom to begin with? This Conor seemed to be the older brother of Ryan. If Conor truly cared for his younger sibling, then why had he let the lad head out in this nightmare? They deserved what they got.
That was my older sister talking.
I tensed my skin to the thickest it had ever been. To a level which made me feel as if I were coated in leather several inches thick.
And then I drove.
I came up behind Conor’s currach and grasped onto the edges of the hull. I thrashed with my tail, driving it forward. His arms lifted in surprise as the boat plowed ahead, and then he redoubled his efforts, driving toward his brother.
The wave hit.
Conor flung himself flat within the currach. Good man, he had some sense after all. I twisted hard, letting the water drive alongside the hull rather than broadside. It was several long moments as the wave cascaded over us, but then we popped up on the other side. I gave a last heft and the currach drew alongside Ryan’s.
Ryan flew into his brother’s currach and twined himself around his older brother like a piece of seaweed around a well-seasoned driftwood. His voice was a high babble. “You came! You came for me! I was so scared!”
Connor didn’t bother to try to unwind his panicked brother. He grabbed up the oars and hauled with all his strength.
I thrashed with my tail, turning the craft, and between the two of us we pulled off of the rocks. And then there was that awful groaning noise that I knew too well.
I turned.
The massive wave reached toward the very stars. It blotted out the sky. It was a force of nature that could not be undone.
I cried, “Get down!”
Connor flung himself over his younger brother, shielding him with his own body. His hands firmly latched on to the struts in the boat.
I spun the boat so it was aligned.
Then I prayed to every god of the sea I had ever heard of, great or small.
Crash.
Chapter 2
Pain.
Searing pain.
I wearily blinked my eyes open. I was lying on a rocky beach, my head mercifully nestled in a pocket of soft sand. My left arm was daggered in agony. I was sprawled on my long hair; it had become a knotted mess in the maelstrom. It took a m
It was dawn, if I had to guess. Gentle fogs rolled along the beach, shielding much of it from view. I was surrounded by shards of wood and scraps of animal skin which seemed to be the remnants of the currach. And my arm –
I groaned. There was an unnatural jag between my left elbow and my wrist. Living in the sea with rambunctious family members meant I had seen more than my fair share of injuries over the years. But usually they happened within reach of our home. The healers were well stocked for whatever we might manage to do to ourselves.
But here? On land? There was no telling what these heathens might do. For all I knew, they could feel that chopping off the limb was the best remedy.
Maybe I could set the arm myself and try to swim home again.
With my right hand I pushed to sitting –
Staggering agony seared through me, taking my breath clean from my lungs. I could not inhale. I could not think. There was the pain and nothing else.
A soft voice said at my side, “Here. Bite on this.”
A waterlogged piece of wood was gently inserted in my mouth and I bit.
Gods, that felt good.
Somehow the action let the pain flow through me and I could breathe again. I could make sense of the world around me.
I turned and looked –
Ryan’s eyes were the same sea-blue as his older brother’s, but his face was young, even younger than I had thought before. Was the lad even ten years old? And pale, so pale, as if the freckles on his skin were black squid ink marks on the whitest of oyster.
His breath came out in a huff. “I didn’t tell anyone. You’re safe. I know you saved our lives. You just tell me what to do, and I’ll help you.”
His eyes went, wide with wonder, to my tail.
My instinct was to roll, to hide it from the human’s view, but what good would that be? Clearly the lad had been examining me while I was unconscious. He had seen the full four-foot length of it, delicately scaled in turquoise and seafoam white. He saw how it melded smoothly into my human-like torso and my bare breasts. A part of me reminded me that humans were shy about these sorts of things, for who knew what reason, but I was beyond caring. If he thought I would go scurrying for a piece of cloth, he was woefully mistaken. He could avert his eyes.
But the lad didn’t seem shy at all. He held my gaze with his own, the color returning to his cheeks. “You’re a mer-folk, aren’t you? And you saved us! Me and my brother. I knew all those tales they told about you were wrong. How could someone so beautiful be a danger?”
I chuckled with amusement. Clearly the lad hadn’t encountered the many dazzling jellyfish found in warmer climes.
Then a shooting pain seared through my arm, and all thought of mirth fled.
He dropped to a knee at my side. “What can I do? Tell me what to do.”
I wanted to swim away. I wanted to slip into the water, get far from shore, and head …
Where?
Scanning up and down the coastline, I had to admit that it was wholly unknown to me. There was not even the smallest sense of recognition. I could be hundreds of miles from home. And in the shape I was in, trailing blood, I would quickly draw in sharks. I was in no shape to fend them off.
I looked at the young boy waiting so loyally by my side.
My heart went out to him, and I gave him a tender smile. “I have to fix my arm. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”
His eyes grew wide and his breath came out in a long sigh. “You really do sound like music.”
The pain eased a moment as I took in his astonishment. To me I was simply talking, but I knew well the effect a mer-folk’s speech had on humans. It was how we held the upper hand, after all. How we lured sailors or sent them away. How, during Samhain or Beltane or the other mystical junctures of the world, we drew in the menfolk and joined with them in a moment of joyous union. To return home with the seed which would ensure the next generation.
My hand slid to my stomach which had never risen in that beautiful bounty. My shoulders fell. My sister had said something was wrong with me, and I had come to believe she must be right. For by now, at this age, I should be the proud mother of several mer-kids.
And instead I had none.
My brow creased -
The boy jumped up to standing. “You’re injured and in pain. I’ll get the Widow Humphrey. She handles all the injuries for our village. And she’s as loyal as they come. She loved her husband dearly. My ma always said there was never a woman who loved a man the way Widow Humphrey loved her husband. But he died five years ago and now she takes care of the rest of us.”
I looked up and down the fog-rolling beach. Shapes flitted in the shadows, sending nervous fear through me. “Where is your brother?”
He nudged his head back inland. “We landed in pitch black and made our way back to the village. Once dawn broke, Connor began helping with repairs. He’s at Sarah’s house, mending the roof. I came down to the beach to see what could be salvaged of the currach – and I found you here.”
He nodded in determination. “The state of chaos the village is in, it’d be easy. I could bring the Widow Humphrey out here without anybody else knowing.”
I looked up and down the beach with trepidation. I didn’t like being on the solid sand to begin with, and sitting out in the open like this sent shafts of nervous fear through me. It was like inviting a predator to come and attack.
Ryan patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry. There’s a cave up around this corner that the seals stay in. It’s big enough to hold you comfortably but small enough to remain unnoticed. I think it’ll be all right until Widow Humphrey makes you better again.”
He looked carefully at my slender arms and then my tail. His brow creased. “Can you move? With only one arm? Or should I find some wood to try to drag you?”
The thought of the young boy hauling me along like a sack of grain brought a smile to my lips. I shook my head. “That’s all right, Ryan. You just bring the healing woman to me. I will manage to get into the cave.”
Ryan’s brow creased with concern. “Are you sure? You will be all right?”
I gave him a reassuring nod. “I’m fine. You go fetch the widow. I’ll get to the cave.”
He eagerly nodded. “I shall, Lady … Ummm …. I don’t know your name.”
I smiled up at him. “You can call me Lea.”
His eyes shone. “Lea.”
And then he was scampering off, lost in the fogs.
I looked around me, at the broken shards of wood which had once been a sturdy currach. I had to count my blessings that I was not in as many pieces.
A gentle smile came to my lips. I was equally blessed that I had somehow found the one male in all of Wales who would not want to either destroy me or make me his eternal slave.
Chapter 3
The cave was cool, damp, and shadowed. It reminded me of the undersea grottos where I would retreat when the clamor of my home became too much. I wondered if the humans felt this way at times. After all, in the ocean we could move up and down within the water column at whim. We could skim along the sandy bottom, in the soft purples and lavenders, where light barely reached. Or we could soar to the surface, the meeting point with the puffins and seagulls, and be transfixed by the sun’s golden glory.
Humans, on the other hand, were tragically trapped in one narrow horizontal plane. They could only move along the surface of the earth. They could neither easily burrow within or soar above.
How could they live with such limitations?
There was a noise at the mouth of the cave, and I curled back into the shadows. There was no guarantee that this was a friend. After all, Vikings could easily have been driven off-course by the storm and taken shelter along this stretch of rock and driftwood. If they came across me in my injured state, there might not be any piece of me left by the time true help arrived.
A woman’s croaking voice sounded by the c
A wrinkled woman with a waist-long grey braid of hair turned the corner. She was wearing a rough dress in green-grey over thick leather boots. She carefully stepped into the cave, her arms holding a large leather pouch against her ample breast. Her eyes scanned –
She held her breath.
I stared at her in shock.
It couldn’t be.
At last I found my voice.
“Moa?”
She paled, but stepped forward. “I’m surprised you remember me, lass. You were but a mere hatchling when I left. Maybe six or seven? Do you really still remember old Moa?”
Tears welled in my eyes and I nodded. “Of everyone who raised me, those early years, it was you I loved the most. You who were the kindest and most patient with me. When they told me you had been drowned by a storm, I couldn’t believe it! Nothing could take you down.”
She gave a low laugh as she came to my side. “It’s hard for the mer-folk to admit they are not the shining pinnacle of life. When a mer-woman goes on land to create a child, it is expected that of course she will return. Why would she choose to remain in the dirt and grime? Where one’s body weighs heavily on one’s bones?”
The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. “But things are not always that simple.”
I looked to her hand, where a simple gold band shone on her finger. Wonder lit me. “You fell in love.”
She nodded, running a finger along the band. “He brought a lightness to my heart. Somehow, being around him made the world take on a glow of color. One I’d never seen before.”
Her eyes dropped to the ground. “When he died, it was as if the sun stopped shining.”
I took her hand. “I’m so sorry.”