The Mermaids Madness

barnacles packed together on the rocks near the waterline. Higher up, some of the rocks carried patches of dark green moss.
    “I’ve sailed past these parts,” said James. “They say the rocks are graves. Every time a ship is lost, another rock rises from the sea.”
    “Pah,” said Douglas. “Everyone knows they’re the teeth of the old gods, left here a thousand years ago.”
    “Really?” asked James.
    “No. They’re rocks.” Douglas splashed him with an oar. “Quiet down and row.”
    Danielle had donned a long jacket before leaving the ship. She pulled it tight, folding her arms for warmth, but there was no way to avoid the dampness. Only Lannadae seemed unaffected by the wind and the water. The mermaid leaned over the side, trailing her hand through the waves.
    Behind them, the Phillipa was little more than a shadow in the mist. “Not exactly the most comfortable place to live,” said Talia.
    “I don’t know,” answered Snow. “Strange winds, cold fog . . . my mother would have killed to create this kind of atmosphere.”
    Soon the Phillipa had disappeared from sight, and they were alone with the rocks and the waves. Danielle studied each one as they passed, searching for two rocks shaped like giants. Nobody spoke. Even the splashing of the oars grew quieter as the cutter slowed.
    “There,” whispered Snow, pointing at two shadows up ahead. A flock of birds exploded from a nearby island at the sound of her voice.
    “Kraken bugger us all!” The boat rocked as Douglas stood, yanking his oar from the lock and brandishing it like an enormous staff.
    “They’re only birds,” said Danielle, trying not to smile. “Cormorants, like the ones who live in the cliffs back home.”
    The cormorants skimmed the water, many coming close enough for Danielle to make out the individual black and white feathers on their wings. Several nabbed fish from just beneath the surface before flying back to the closer of the two islands ahead.
    James and Douglas rowed the boat, following the birds. Both rocks were twice as high as a man and almost as long as the Phillipa. The sides were nearly vertical, miniature cliffs of crumbled black rock. As they approached, Danielle could see a submerged path of stone connecting the two.
    “I guess that one sort of looks like a giant,” Snow said dubiously.
    If so, it was a sickly giant indeed. The nose had fallen into the water, and the cheeks were streaked with bird droppings. Though the moss and barnacles did give the impression of a beard, and the clump of trees up top could be hair.
    The second “giant” was easier to discern as they approached, though one “eye” held an enormous nest of woven grasses and leaves.
    “Where would she be?” Danielle asked.
    Lannadae sank lower in the boat. “I’m not sure.”
    Danielle leaned over the side. The water was shallow enough to see the plants swaying on the bottom.
    The wind moaned as it blew past the rocks. Danielle fought a shudder at the sound. It made her think of her father’s breathing during his last days in this world. The long, strained gasps as he fought for air. The groans of pain he fought and failed to suppress, knowing Danielle was listening.
    “She’s here,” Snow said.
    Danielle wiped her face. “What’s that?”
    “It’s Morveren.” Snow’s eyes were glassy. “The song of the undine is magical, remember?”
    “She was always a strong singer,” said Lannadae. “In her youth, she would sing messages to other tribes.”
    “Sounds like the cries of the drowned,” said James.
    Talia hadn’t spoken. She was staring at her hands, and her eyes were haunted. Danielle reached back to touch her arm.
    Talia slapped Danielle’s hand aside, then froze.“Sorry. I was—” She shook her head. “Where is she?”
    Snow pointed to the trees which topped the left rock. Talia barely rocked the boat as she stood and drew one of her knives.
    “What are you doing?” Lannadae asked.
    A moment later, the knife spun between the trees.
    The moaning sound Danielle had thought was the wind stopped with a yelp. Talia pulled out a second knife.
    “No!” Lannadae grabbed Danielle’s leg. “Cinderella, stop her!”
    Danielle put her hand over Talia’s. “She can’t help us if she’s dead.”
    The song began again, angrier this time. Talia’s eyes shone. “Shut her up or I will.”
    Danielle nodded and turned to face the cormorants nesting in the rocks. Sing, my friends.
    To call the cries of the