Call of the Sea

Call Of The Sea

By

Rebecca Hart

The characters and events in this book are fictitious.

Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.

If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher.  In such case the author has not received any payment for this “stripped book.”

Call Of The Sea

Copyright © 2012 Rebecca Hart

All rights reserved.

Print ISBN: 978-0-9850115-9-8

E-Pub ISBN: 978-0-9851483-0-0

Library of Congress Control Number:  2012940441

Inkspell Publishing

18, Scott Court, C-4

Ridgefield Park

07660 NJ

Edited By Melissa Keir.

Cover art By Najla Qamber

You can visit us at www.inkspellpublishing.com

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For Steven, Casey, and Shelby

Proof you’re never too old to chase a dream.

Part One

Chapter One

Newquay, England 1655

Wooden sword in hand, Elysandra Winters stood in her favorite spot on the windswept bluffs near her home. Pitting her skills against a nearby sapling, she slashed and parried her stationary enemy with vigor. The sounds of the surf floated up the cliffs, matched cadence with her heartbeat, and filled her with joy.

“I told you Ellie-sandy Britches would still be here. Every stinkin’ day ‘til the sun sets, like she’s really going to be a privateer.”

Ellie spun about and cringed when she spied Herbert Finkle and two of his shifty-looking cohorts walking up the sandy road toward the cliffs. She groaned and stuffed her makeshift sword into the rope-sheath tied around her waist. After wiping sand from her green smock, she put her hands on her hips and gave Herbert her nastiest look—like the ones Mama gave Ellie when she talked back. “What business is it of yours what I do?”

Herbert swiped a fringe of hair from his mud-brown eyes and wagged a chubby finger in her face. “It’s my business because you’re a liar, Ellie Winters. Tellin’ Mister Jameson at the mercantile you were gonna be a privateer like your Pa. Everybody knows girls can’t be sailors, let alone captains. No matter who your pa is.”

His monkey-armed cronies moved to take position on each side of her, effectively cutting off a quick escape.

With her back to the bluffs, there’d be no retreating. Her heartbeat quickened. Heat burned Ellie’s cheeks and surged through her limbs. “Girls can too! You don’t know anything at all, Herbert Finkle. You’ll see. Papa is just waiting till I’m old enough. One day soon, you’ll see.”

The blond boy to her right snaked a hand out and yanked on her braid. “It’s bad luck to have a girl on a ship, everyone knows that.”

“Ow!” Ellie pushed him away. “Stop it. Leave me alone or I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” Herbert stepped closer. A full head taller than Ellie and quite round, he blocked out the afternoon sun.

The hair on Ellie’s arms stood up. Her hands balled into fists, her concentration centered on his fat nose. As her anger bubbled over, she hauled back and punched Herbert square in the face so hard blood burst from his left nostril. Her chest heaved.

Herbert bent over with a groan and cupped his face. A satisfying stream of crimson trickled from between his fingers and splattered onto the sand at his feet.

Ellie turned to the blond boy and lifted her tight fists higher. “You want some too?”

The boy cast a quick glance at Herbert and backed away from a seething Ellie, his hands up in surrender. “Not me.”

“You’re a lunatic, Ellie Winters,” Herbert said through his plugged up nose. “I’m gonna tell my pa what you did!” Still holding his dripping face, Herbert and his cronies scrambled back the way they’d come.

Ellie took a deep breath and relaxed the tension in her body.

Stupid boys.

Her hands still shook, but her heartbeat slowed. She turned back to the sea and let the crashing waves extinguish her anger. A hard sigh blew past her lips.

He has to come today. Papa wouldn’t miss my tenth birthday, would he?

Ellie’s eyes followed the bouncing white crests as they raced each other toward the shore of the secluded cove. The wind swept up the crag and played with the ribbons tied to the ends of her braids.

A smile stretched her lips. Ellie closed her eyes and tried to imagine a ship rolling beneath her. She swayed back and forth while the rhythm of the breakers lulled her deeper into the pleasant illusion. A constant breeze brushed across her cheeks and filled the sails of her imagination.

The bark of a seal in the water below jerked Ellie back to reality. Her eyes fluttered open, and as if drawn, once more scanned the blue horizon. With a squeal, she lurched to her feet and squinted into the sun. Sails on the horizon?

Excitement coursed through her. Ellie shielded her eyes with a hand, unsure if she could believe what she saw. “Papa!”

He came!

***

With a belly full of fish, Daniel sunned himself on a giant rock. A refreshing spray of seawater burst up after each wave smashed into his perch, offering a cooling shower to his thick skin. He sighed into the soft breeze that tickled his whiskers.

A dark shadow drifted across the sky and covered the warming rays.

He lifted his head, opened one lazy eye. Instead of the expected fluffy clouds blocking the sun, two masts burdened with huge white sails filled his vision. Curious, he flopped onto his stomach, slid down the side of the rock, and plopped into the sea.

With a flick of his tail, he followed the ship as it cut through the waves, heading for a nearby cove. He caught up to the vessel and matched its pace, surging out of the water and arching back in with hardly a splash.

No dock around here. Maybe they’re pirates looking for a place to bury their treasure.

Daniel caught up to the brigantine with ease. He dove beneath the surface, swerved, and dipped under the bow, coming up on the other side.

Murmuring voices and scurried activity floated down to Daniel. The sails dropped with a whoosh and the flap of canvas, followed by a command to weigh anchor.

Daniel moved away from the hull to get a better view of the activity on deck and watched as the giant weight dropped into the sea. Before long, crewmen had a longboat swung over the rail. They were going ashore.

Perhaps they really are pirates.

A tall man with a bandana tied about his dark head pointed and shouted orders to the other men. By their quick reactions to the muffled words, Daniel pegged him as the captain.

The crew lowered the longboat into the water and the captain tossed a rope ladder over the side. Braided ends dangled in the breakers. Swinging over the rail with a grace that left Daniel fish-mouthed, the captain scaled down the ladder and dropped into the waiting skiff.

A shrill, high-pitched screech pierced Daniel’s ears.

***

“Papa!”

Ellie darted down the winding pathway leading to the flat shoreline beneath the bluffs. Her feet dug into the deep sand as she streaked down the hill, heedless of her reckless speed. She reached the beach and jumped in the air with explosive excitement, waving both arms over her head. “Papa! Papa!”

The time it took
The Siren’s Call
to reach shore stretched to an eternity. She simmered and paced the edge of the waves while the ship sailed into the cove, eyes glued to her father’s vessel. To her, there was no more beautiful sight than
The Siren’s Call
, her sails full of wind. Ellie ached to know what it felt like to be Papa, living on the ocean day in and day out.

Mindless of her shoes or dress, she waded into the surf up to her knees while two crewmen rowed the boat toward her. The wooden hull scraped sand. Ellie clamored into the tiny vessel and launched herself into her father’s arms. His spicy peppermint scent surrounded her. “Welcome home, Papa!”

Her father caught her in his strong embrace and hugged her tight. “There’s no surprising you, is there? Happy birthday, Ellie-bean.”

She clung to his neck like a barnacle as he climbed from the boat.

Once on dry land, Papa twirled her in a circle so fast, her little feet flew out behind her. “I missed you.”

Happiness vibrated through Ellie’s limbs. “I missed you bushels, Papa.”

***

A pang of envy shuddered through Daniel’s flippers as he watched the captain with the little girl. His father never once greeted him like that. If Da had cared one iota for Daniel, perhaps he wouldn’t have run away.
If he even was my real father.

Daniel’s thoughts turned to the past, to the night his mother died and the last time he’d seen his family. He wouldn’t forget the look on his father’s face as he stood in the middle of the sparse front room of their cottage, a dirt-crusted burlap sack leaning against his left boot and anger radiating from his hulking form.

“’Bout damn time you showed up.” Da bent and grabbed the sack, hurling it at Daniel. “Your mother left this behind and insisted I give it to you if anything happened to her.”

Daniel caught the bag with a whoosh of expelled air, stumbling backward. The musty scent of earth filled his nostrils.

“Now, you got it. Take it and get the hell out.”

He gaped at his father, tongue refusing to form words.
And go where?

“Don’t you ever come back here, boy. Your ma didn’t belong here in Youghal and neither do you. You hear me?”

Daniel took a step back, shocked by the venom in his father’s words. “You can’t mean that, Da. I–”

“Don’t call me that again, boy!” Da’s face contorted with rage. Spittle flew past his lips. “Your mother wanted you, not me.” His eyes clouded, took on a faraway look. “Now she’s gone, so get out!”

Pain knifed Daniel’s stomach at the flash of memory.

In the three years since leaving Youghal, he’d met others like himself, other selkies. They’d taught him how to shed his skin, explained how important it was to keep it hidden after the change, and what could happen if he didn’t. Without their skins, selkies couldn’t return to the sea, and without the sea they’d die—just as his mother had.

With only his eyes and the crown of his seal head above the surface of the water, Daniel watched the captain carry his clinging daughter to shore. A knot of need formed in his throat and he swallowed it down with effort. In that moment, he’d have given anything to know what it felt like to have a family again, to belong.

Hand in hand, the captain and his flame-haired daughter wound their way up the pathway and disappeared over the grassy ledge.

Ignoring the loneliness seeping into his thoughts, Daniel’s gaze swept back to the anchored ship bobbing on the waves. The oarsmen had rowed the longboat back and were climbing, one behind the other, up the braided ropes.

As Daniel floated on the waves, an idea struck.

***

It had taken him all day to build up the courage to shed his sealskin and return to human form. With the decision made, Daniel focused his thoughts, concentrating his energy on remembering what it felt like to walk on two legs, to speak.

A warm tingle began in his tail flipper and radiated up his spine. He squeezed his eyes tight when the tingling sensations turned to stabbing pain. A grunt of anguish burst from his throat.

Daniel curled up in the sand,. The sickening sound of popping ligaments echoed in his ears. He writhed as his skin contorted, loosening to make room for his larger human frame. Daniel couldn’t contain his scream when his flippers stretched to form arms. Dizzy spots swam before his eyes and nausea balled in his stomach.

When the pulsing pain in his body ebbed, he gasped for air and rolled onto his back. He filled his chest in great heaves and focused on the clusters of fluffy clouds floating across the sky.

Once he recovered from the change, Daniel stuffed his skin between some rocks in the cove where he’d first seen the captain’s ship, and made his way up the same path the man had taken with his daughter. A few questions at the mercantile earned him the captain’s name and place of business.