So, this book is actually written--in fact it's releasing in just 11 days as part of The Call of the Sea a mermaid-and-siren themed anthology (the preorder price is just .99 cents, so get it now!). I may expand it later, before its stand-alone release next March. But, OTOH, I might not. I'm actually happy with how it turned out--even though that's a lot different from how it was planned. I also have a lot on my plate, atm, AND I already have an idea for a sequel of sorts, so...I might leave this one alone.
St. Gubnait’s Light
Carrig na Gaoithe, Ireland
September, 1938
For my sins, I maintain the lighthouse on this miserable spit of land that juts out into the Atlantic, from Ireland’s western shore. It is, by most people’s standards, a lonely, isolated existence—cut off from the mainland by each high tide; mail and supplies delivered once a fortnight by a taciturn cartman. And yet, it suits me.
Although, perhaps not quite as well as it suits my neighbors in the surrounding communities. The less they have to deal with a man of my character and reputation, the better pleased they are.
When I wake this morning, it’s with a sense of approaching doom and I know right away that there’s a storm coming in. Having grown up in a small fishing village, where lives and livelihoods depended on the sea, on its moods, both foul and fair, and on a man’s ability to judge them accurately, I don’t need the barometer, or even the rosy light of dawn to warn me of its approach; I can simply sense it.
And so, I hurry through breakfast and my ablutions, and then I’m out and about all day attending to my duties and making doubly sure that all is in readiness—that the lighting apparatus is clean, that the wick is trimmed, and the glass is polished…
I’m still at it when a squabble of gulls over the beach catches my attention. The temperature has been dropping for hours; clouds roil in the sky; spears of lightning stab at the horizon. Yet, for all of that, the air is calm, the sea is quiet—which, no doubt, is what makes the birds’ raucous calls seem particularly loud and urgent to my ears. Alarmed, I leave off what I’m doing and step out onto the gallery deck, hoping to learn the cause of the clamour.
I get my answer when I catch sight of the wounded seal dragging itself wearily up the shore. To be clear, it has not made it far enough to be safe. The tide has only just turned, and when the storm surges, as it shortly will, the poor, doomed creature will be caught up and dragged back down over the rock-strewn slope. And then hauled out to sea. Where, if it hasn’t expired beforehand, it will almost certainly meet with a vicious death.
It’s this unfortunate that the birds are harassing. I watch as they dive at it again and again, watch it cringe beneath their assault. It bleats plaintively in protest, yet still, it struggles to reach safety. Which it never will.
Between its obvious weakness, the amount of blood it’s left smeared upon the rocks, the approaching storm, and the heckling of the birds, I don’t imagine death is far away. And it’ll not be a peaceful death, either. Not if the gulls have anything to say about it.
“Droch chrích ort!” I yell at the flying devils.
May you have a bad ending.
It’s only right that the tormentors should suffer as much as those they needlessly torment. Not that I think they will. Fairness has always seemed in short supply on this earth, and I’ve no doubt that my curses will have as little effect as my prayers ever have.
What I should do at this point, is to put the seal from my mind and continue about my business. But I’ve always harbored a special fondness for the rónta and that makes ignoring the seal’s plight nigh on impossible.
As a lad on my da’s boat, I had oftentimes found myself mesmerized, unable to look away, when a seal would pop its head above the waves to stare at me. The look in their dark, luminous eyes, alien, yet wise, always gave me the feeling that they were attempting to communicate without words, to speak to me in a way that I could almost…but not quite…hear.
My mother, raised on folklore and always full of fancies, had suggested that my ongoing fascination might be due to our having a Maighdean Mhara or two somewhere in our heritage. Perhaps, she’d said, if I could learn to quiet my own mind, their speech might become clearer to me.
My father, forever the more practical of the two, had no truck with what he termed utter nonsense. To his mind, the seals were nuisances, useless beggars with naught else to do but chase fish from his nets and steal food from out his family’s mouths.
“Oh, but John; surely, there’s more than enough fish in the sea for all to share?” my mother would generally respond.
Which would just as inevitably cause my father to scoff. “Sure and you say that now, Norah; but you’ll be singing a different tune when we’ve naught to eat and our children go hungry.”
Despite their frequent bickering, it was clear to all who knew them that my parents were devoted to one another. The fact that my ma passed on so soon after we’d lost my da, made that doubly obvious. But even though the two of them hadn’t agreed on much in this life, I’m certain that, had either of them still been in a position to voice an opinion, they’d be strongly opposed with what I’ve made up my mind to do next. They’d both tell me it was a bad idea; though it’s likely they’d still disagree as to why.
Since they’re not here, however, I steel myself against the unpleasant necessity and head down the stairs. Along the way, I grab up an oar that I’d meant to have stowed earlier. From there, I make my way to the beach determined to put an end to the seal’s misery.
Preorder Your Copy Today! Out October 10th, 2026!
https://books2read.com/u/bzQLnG
The Call of the Sea cannot be ignored...
Beneath the waves lies another world, one filled with creatures of myth. Mermaids and sirens who find themselves torn between the land and the sea. As they struggle to choose, they will encounter danger, betrayal and love that cannot be.
Dive into the pages and discover a world you have never seen before. Will they find love or will it all end in tragedy?
A Collection of Dark Fantasy Tales
