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268 pages, Paperback
First published June 26, 2015

They say the mermaids would come in from the sea, up the river to the lake, in spring. As salmon come in, to spawn.
And in the rays of the moon, more dreadful than any sight he ever saw before or after, Elrahn made out the skull and bones, and something of the body, what had been left of it...lying there on his own fine coat with the brass buttons, with the gold-painted string of bait tangled between.
He flowed with the currents, and in the company of Trisaphee. And now and then he saw not only that she was beautiful but that she was a living thing, and even under the lake she breathed, as he did, and was not made of glass or water.
But before he could attempt a single thing with her, she suddenly let him go, and floated from him with a look so sad and ancient now, he believed at last she was old as the oceans and full of sorrow, and the salt in her was not only sea but unshed tears.


That night a storm came up out of the sea, boiling and black. It put out the stars and smashed the plate of the moon. That done, it scanned about for something to harm, but though the land was not far off, it did not want the land. Then, it saw a ship dancing along, rigged with clouds, and with lights shining from the portholes and in the lanterns, and under the howl of the wind fluttered the notes of a piano.
"I'll have you," said the storm, and flung itself forward, kicking the waves from its path.
But in the dark, just as the last light in his brain was going out, he felt a cool warmth pressed all the length of his body, and through the shadow saw a naked woman held him, while her hair swirled round them through the currents like a huge flag.
They told his strangest tale. Of a woman in the sea who drew them up from the ocean and hung them out like her washing on the bars and stays and wreckage of the ship.
"And her, we've lost the young lady-" cried another. But when he said this, the rest shushed him. "She was no girl or maid or lady."
"What then? What?"
"The sea she was."
At first she seemed plain, but very graceful. Then she seemed lovely, and then beautiful. At last she seemed the only living living thing, so that if a bird exquisitely sang, somehow it was Elaidh, and when it flew, it was Elaidh. And the dawn was Elaidh, and the evening star, and the moon.
When he came back near evening, Elaidh was not there. He searched a long while, even standing at the edge of the dark blue sea, calling her. But she was gone. She was gone for good.
The ocean is not made of tears, though one might think it. No, it is the other way about, for the water of the sea is in us, in our blood, and when we cry, we cry the sea's own salt water.
For I think I shall never meet the lovely girl again, she that was the evening star to me, and the flight of a bird. She that I forgot then, as I forget now how to play my piano, and everything-but her."
And since she is half mermaid, how will I notice that?
As I did, my son, if I'd looked as I should. For though she shed no single tear, the sea was in her eyes."