Love of the Sea

By Nicki Chapelway

If Brandy heard one more person tell her what a good wife she would be, she was going to drown a sailor.

She heaved a deep breath as she twisted her silver locket around her fingers and walked down the dark cobblestone streets. It was a paltry trinket, certainly not a token of love, though it had been given to her by the man she loved.

But he loved another. If one could call the sea “another”.

And he’d made certain that she had known the gift was nothing more than just a gift.

Brandy shook her head. For years she had pined after Captain Armitage, tripping over herself every time he came into harbor and telling herself that she was the reason he always stayed at the tavern she worked at.

Brandy rubbed her itchy nose, thankful no one was around to see the tears glistening in her eyes. She needed to move on from such heartbreaking foolishness.

The street was quiet, abandoned. A thick fog had rolled up to shield the sea from view, although she could hear it. The sea was always dangerous, but especially at this time of night. This was the hour that the sirens crept closer to the shore, no longer afraid of nets or harpoons. In the darkness, it was easy to mistake a sea monster for a log floating near the shore.

As Brandy reached the street’s abrupt end, she stared out across a stretch of sand to the mist-encased sea. She shivered, knowing she should really turn around and head back home, but the ocean drew her closer.

She wrapped her arms around herself and stepped out onto the sand, savoring the salty sea. Pressing her eyes shut, she listened to the lapping waves and tried to understand the draw that so many could not escape. Including her Armitage.

“What can I do for you?” said a raspy voice behind her.

She jumped and turned to see a cloaked figure walking out from the street. She backed up a step. The woman’s face, surrounded by a shock of white hair, was surprisingly un-weathered, and her eyes gleamed with an odd light.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the figure said, giving a dry laugh as she lifted the hood from her head. Her hair rippled down her back. Brandy didn’t recognize her, and she knew everyone who lived in her little harbor town.

The woman turned her gaze out to the sea. “But the question still remains.”

“What?” Brandy asked.

“What can I do for you?” the woman asked, turning her unsettling gaze back to Brandy. Her eyes glowed, like dying embers. “Or, more accurately, what will you let me do for you?”

Brandy shuffled back a step, her dress brushing against her legs. Sand shifted under her feet. “What do you mean?”

“I can make it so your lover will finally love you back.”

Brandy blinked.

“Of course,” the woman shrugged, “only if you so desire.”

Brandy blinked again. Common sense said that she should ask the woman how she knew about her love and why she was even offering this gift. But the idea of being with Armitage at long last… she had no strength to fight the temptation.

“If you could,” Brandy whispered. “But what would you want in return?” She had very little money saved up, and she imagined that a sea witch would want something more sinister anyway. That had to be what the woman was.

The woman touched her bottom lip with two fingers, as if thinking. “I will give you three days to prove yourself worthy of this gift,” she said. “Find that man you love and get him to fall in love with you. On the eve of the third day, if you have wasted my gift, I will find you and extract payment.”

Brandy swallowed hard, but found herself nodding. She had no idea how she would find Armitage in only three days’ time, but neither could she find the will to refuse. What if this gift was her only chance of ever being happy with him? “Yes. Yes. I understand.”

“Good,” the old woman crowed, and held out her hand. Fog extended from her fingers.

Brandy lurched away, her stomach twisting. This was wrong. She opened her mouth to tell the woman that she’d changed her mind, but the fog reached her before the words did.

Brandy dropped to the ground, a scream of pain clogging in her throat as her knees hit the ground. The pain felt as if she had found herself prey to sirens, and now their razor teeth tore her body apart piece by piece. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the pain dissolved into the night like the fog did. She moved to push herself to her feet, ready to flee back home and never venture out after dark again, but her legs would not respond. They felt heavy as lead and she was having a hard time drawing a full breath.

Brandy glanced down and moved her skirts aside— and her scream finally burst free. Her legs, now covered in scales, had grown together.

They weren’t her legs anymore; instead, they belonged to the horrid creatures that prowled the sea and preyed on men. A siren. But no, she was a girl, she couldn’t possibly be a siren.

“What—what did you do to me?” Even her voice had changed, into something more melodic and sweet. Her hand flew up to clutch her throat.

“Remember,” the lady said a dark chuckle lacing her words in the fog. “You only have three days.”

Three days.

Brandy gasped for breath. Three days to find Captain Armitage and make him love her… or what? What would become of her if she failed? And what would become of Armitage if she succeeded?

Everyone knew what became of sailors who fell in love with a siren.

Can you guess which song from the 1970's inspired this story? Share in the comments!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nicki Chapelway has been writing since she was eleven years old. She published her first book A Week of Werewolves, Faeries, and Fancy Dresses at the age of fifteen, one year after she finished writing it. She’s a fangirl who loves obsessing over her favorite stories, and characters, and her myriad of fictional boyfriends. Her hobbies include reading, writing, and coloring.

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