The Song of the Mermaid
by Melissa
Davies
Published:
January 15th, 2012
Genre: YA
Mystery Adventure
Recommended Age:
11+
“Yesterday morning, local boat-builder Mr Roger
Trevithick was found dead at the foot of the cliffs on the Zennor Coast…”
When Stef Brightbay goes to visit her Aunt May
in the village of Zennor in Cornwall, she expects to have an uneventful trip.
But when her mother persuades her to research their family history and she
begins to uncover a tragic event that took place there in 1812, she is
determined to find out more. She also learns of the local folklore; the legend
of Matthew Trewhella who was enticed to his death by a beautiful mermaid.
Why is her aunt so uncommunicative? What secret
is being hidden by a strange local family who seem to want to put a stop to her
investigation? And even more mysteriously, why are unusual things happening at
her aunt’s cottage?
With the help of sea-salt fisherman Arthur and
his faithful chocolate Labrador, Stef pieces together the past and realises
that a frightening parallel is unraveling in the present day. Will they be able
to take action before it’s too late?
by Melissa Davies:
Once outside, Stef inhaled deeply, feeling her
lungs expand and her mind sharpen. It was strange how rarely she actually
remembered to breathe – just to stand in the open air and take deep, cold, sparkling
breaths of clean, clear air. It felt so invigorating. She could taste sea salt
on her lips even through the mist, and it wasn’t so thick that she couldn’t
quite easily see where she was walking. Even so, she stayed far from the edge
of the cliffs and strolled in the same direction as yesterday, towards the
church and the rest of the village. She wondered if she might bump into Hayley
again but it didn’t look like anyone else was around as far as she could see,
and the mist gave sounds a muffled quality, making her feel like she was
wrapped in a cocoon that she couldn’t get out of, and which nobody else could
enter. It was a pleasant experience for a while, but after about ten minutes it
grew a little eerie, and Stef shivered, beginning to feel the cold, and pulled
her scarf more tightly around her neck and folded her arms to keep in the
warmth. She turned to head back to the cottage. Her eyes darted around in
panic. The mist had thickened and all she could see of the way she had come was
a swirling cloud of white. She tentatively walked a few paces and waved her
arms in front of her but it made no impact. She turned back again – she had
been able to see ahead of her without many problems so maybe she could continue
towards the church and wait there until it cleared. But the fog had fallen
thickly all around her suddenly and silently, and she was no longer sure in
which direction she was facing. Breathing heavily, she stopped and tried to
remain calm. She knew that the most important thing was not to walk blindly, in
case she roamed too close to the cliff-edge in her disorientation. She suddenly
heard a sound to her right and she spun uncertainly.
“Hello?”
The mist was silent.
She sank down to her knees and crawled carefully in the direction she thought that Mermaid Cottage should be. Although she wasn’t totally sure where she was going, she knew it was a lot safer to feel with her hands in front of her on the ground than to go blundering off on foot as she might easily trip. Her knee scraped across a sharp stone and she swore, feeling a trickle of blood. Her jeans felt damp and heavy as she crawled on, her hair was plastered across her face and she breathed quickly, heart thumping. She was vaguely aware in the author’s part of her mind that she would laugh about this later, crawling through the mud not half a mile from the cottage, totally lost. But right now it was far from a joke. She knew distances could be deceptive but surely she was nearly at the cottage now? She stopped and peered around again in case the mist had lifted. It was still as thick as ever.
She thought she could hear something. Like someone speaking? No…she strained her ears, keeping her body completely still…it was like someone singing.
“What the hell?” she growled. “I’m stuck in the mist and someone is singing?”
It struck her as odd that she could actually hear anything anyway – even when she spoke aloud the sound was oddly dampened, but the voice she could hear was clear even though it was distant. She carefully turned on her knees, feeling around on the ground to steady herself, and painstakingly made her way in the direction she perceived the voice to be coming from. If someone was there, albeit someone weird enough to be singing outside in the morning, she wanted to head in the direction of civilization rather than go blundering further away. From time to time she paused and listened. The singing was definitely growing louder. It was melodic and female. She couldn’t detect any words but she was suddenly struck with the feeling that she had heard it somewhere before. In a dream! That was it – the half-remembered dream she had the night before had been about mermaids singing.
“Christ, I am really cracking up” Stef muttered, heart pounding furiously. Even underneath her coat, the hairs on her arms prickled and a chill tingled at her spine.
“I am thinking way too much about my book. I swear I’m going crazy”.
But still the voice continued, and Stef very carefully followed it, half out of curiosity and half out of desperation because right then, she had no better idea of how to find her way back. Her knees throbbed and her head ached, and the singing was now so loud it filled her ears with a haunting melody. She stopped and closed her eyes and shoved her hands over her ears to block it, crying out in frustration. The music stopped. She opened her eyes tentatively and removed her hands.
The mist was gone.
“Hello?”
The mist was silent.
She sank down to her knees and crawled carefully in the direction she thought that Mermaid Cottage should be. Although she wasn’t totally sure where she was going, she knew it was a lot safer to feel with her hands in front of her on the ground than to go blundering off on foot as she might easily trip. Her knee scraped across a sharp stone and she swore, feeling a trickle of blood. Her jeans felt damp and heavy as she crawled on, her hair was plastered across her face and she breathed quickly, heart thumping. She was vaguely aware in the author’s part of her mind that she would laugh about this later, crawling through the mud not half a mile from the cottage, totally lost. But right now it was far from a joke. She knew distances could be deceptive but surely she was nearly at the cottage now? She stopped and peered around again in case the mist had lifted. It was still as thick as ever.
She thought she could hear something. Like someone speaking? No…she strained her ears, keeping her body completely still…it was like someone singing.
“What the hell?” she growled. “I’m stuck in the mist and someone is singing?”
It struck her as odd that she could actually hear anything anyway – even when she spoke aloud the sound was oddly dampened, but the voice she could hear was clear even though it was distant. She carefully turned on her knees, feeling around on the ground to steady herself, and painstakingly made her way in the direction she perceived the voice to be coming from. If someone was there, albeit someone weird enough to be singing outside in the morning, she wanted to head in the direction of civilization rather than go blundering further away. From time to time she paused and listened. The singing was definitely growing louder. It was melodic and female. She couldn’t detect any words but she was suddenly struck with the feeling that she had heard it somewhere before. In a dream! That was it – the half-remembered dream she had the night before had been about mermaids singing.
“Christ, I am really cracking up” Stef muttered, heart pounding furiously. Even underneath her coat, the hairs on her arms prickled and a chill tingled at her spine.
“I am thinking way too much about my book. I swear I’m going crazy”.
But still the voice continued, and Stef very carefully followed it, half out of curiosity and half out of desperation because right then, she had no better idea of how to find her way back. Her knees throbbed and her head ached, and the singing was now so loud it filled her ears with a haunting melody. She stopped and closed her eyes and shoved her hands over her ears to block it, crying out in frustration. The music stopped. She opened her eyes tentatively and removed her hands.
The mist was gone.
Melissa
Davies is a young author who has to date released 3 books available for the
Amazon Kindle. She has always enjoyed reading and writing, and loves to craft
short, fast-paced adventures which are particularly aimed at young adults aged
around 11 or 12 and upwards, but they have also been enjoyed by adults of all
ages.
Her
premise is to write stories which she would want to read herself. She feels
strongly that people shouldn’t be put off reading by books which try to be too
literary and obscure, so instead she focuses on the story itself, making it
engaging and exciting, rather than worrying too much about using as many long
words as possible. However she also refrains from including drugs, sex,
swearing or excessive violence because she feels they take away so much from
the plot.
Her other
hobbies and interests include animal rights, veganism, healthy living and yoga,
and she hopes to spend more time on creative writing and improve her work in
the future.
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