Shelley Thomas: The Seven Tales of Trinket

I had no other words, so I said again, “I am sorry.”

“However, she did not take my child.” Her voice was fierce. “Well, perhaps I misspoke. She may indeed have taken the babe… but he is still alive.”

I waited. This was the story I’d come to hear.

“We were out on the boat, the babe and I, catching fish for our supper. The Sea Mistress had drowned my husband not a month before, so we had to provide for ourselves. Certainly, the good people of Conelmara offered to feed us, but I am strong enough. I’ll not survive on charity. We were returning to shore when the greedy Mistress reached in with her great wave-fingers and carried my wee babe away. I saw her bounce him up on top of the foam, not drag him down to her depths as she did my man. I cried out, cursing her, begging her to return my child. That’s when she sent the storm that demolished the village.”

I did not speak. What could I say? Everyone knows that the sea does not return what she takes. ’Tis not possible.

“And you, Trinket the Bard’s Daughter , you have come here to help me find him.” Her face changed instantly from anguished to hopeful. She grasped me by my shoulders and shook me with crazed joy. “I know that is why God sent you!”

“Mister Fergus sent me.”

Mistress Catriona just smiled at me. “He is not dead, my babe. I would feel it if it were so.”

She rose and placed small cups of tea in front of us, hot and steaming, and a plate of oatcakes. But I was not hungry.

“Sometimes, the Mistress of the Sea will give a young human babe to a grief-stricken selkie mum whose own babe has died,” she said. “That is an ancient agreement between the Mistress and the seal people.”

“Seal people?” I asked.

“I thought you were the daughter of a storyteller. Did your father teach you nothing?”

I wanted to tell her how my father had left before he could teach me much of anything, but she merely shook her head and continued. “Selkies are creatures who can appear as men or women, but are most comfortable in their seal forms. They wear their sealskins in the ocean, but store them in secret places when they wish to walk on land. ’Tis a lucky fisherman who finds a selkie woman, hides her skin, and takes her for a wife. They are the most devoted of mothers.”

“And you believe one of these seal mothers has your baby?”

Mistress Catriona nodded. “And I will get him back.” Her voice was cold, like a winter’s morning.

“I know what you are feeling, I think,” I began. “I, too, have been separated from my father—”

“We shall need music. The selkies can be tamed with music,” she interrupted. “Have you a voice for singing? And a mind for conjuring tunes?”

“I-I-I do not know, actually—” I began, but before I could get any more words out, Mistress Catriona had clasped her hand around my own and pulled me out of her cottage and down the narrow path toward the rocky coast.

As we approached, the ocean splashed playfully against the shore. The Mistress of the Sea and her angry storms were long gone from this stretch of the world, though the wind was brisk enough to tug at my braided hair and chill the tops of my ears. I was glad for the warmth of my mother’s cloak. I turned back to see Thomas, who trailed behind determinedly. Was he not supposed to be repairing roofs with Mister Fergus? It seemed wrong to be heading for the waves when so much work in the ruined town still needed doing. “Perhaps we should go and check on the thatching,” I began, releasing my hand from hers. “Mister Fergus may need some help…”

“Nay,” said Mistress Catriona, a determined look on her face. “Mister Fergus bid you keep company with me, so as to keep me out of everyone’s way. I know full well that none of them believe me. You will do your duty to Mister Fergus and come with me. ’Tis what an honorable soul would do.”

I wanted to be an honorable soul. So I followed Mistress Catriona as she led me down the dirt path.

Thomas raced to catch up.

“You did not have to come, Thomas,” I told him. “Doesn’t Mister Fergus need you?”

“Mister Fergus would not want you to go and let the lady do something stupid, that’s what I am thinking. And I am supposed to watch after you. Besides, I’ve been helping the whole time you’ve been sipping tea.”

“How did you know I was sipping tea?”

“Peeked in the window. How did you think?”

“And how could you peek in the window if you’ve been working the whole time? Hmm?” I attempted a big, disgusted sigh, but Thomas interrupted.

“She’s crazed, Trinket. Can you not see it in her eyes?” His voice was a whisper. I hoped the wind would not carry it down to where Mistress Catriona navigated between the large rocks of the shore.

I shook my head and turned to join her.

There were bones on the shore. Bones of large sea beasts called whales. Whiter than the clouds, they rose from the rocks like the ghosts of old tree branches. I could hear Thomas gasp at the sight of them.

Jagged and sharp, the rocks of the beach created a wall of sorts between us and the bones. Carefully, so the rough edges would not pierce our shoes, we made our way past the barrier to where the bones rested. But why would we require such things? Did she not say that the selkies liked music ?

Mistress Catriona pointed to a large curved bone. “That is what we need. You will see, Trinket.”

Around the bone that Mistress Catriona desired nested a family of swans. Their beaks were pointed and they squawked most miserably about our approach. The mothers must need to protect their babies, I thought. Thomas once told me that the most dangerous animals were mothers protecting their young. Perhaps Mistress Catriona did not realize the peril she was in. “Have a care, Mistress Catriona, they have beaks that would slice your finger from your hand before you could blink twice.”

“Nay, they will not harm us,” she said, stealthily moving forward.

But Thomas ran ahead of Mistress Catriona, scattering the lovely birds. Not one pecked poor Thomas as he flailed about, dispersing them to the four winds. ’Twas a brave gesture, to be sure, for he could well have returned with cuts, bites, and bits of flesh missing.

Thomas smiled proudly at his victory.

“Mayhap ’tis a good thing I came after all,” he said smugly.

Mistress Catriona walked among the downy feathers of the swans’ nests. She motioned for me to join her, so I did.

“Now, Trinket the Bard’s Daughter, you will need this, to accompany your singing, of course.” Her fingers delicately stroked the elegant white arch of the bone she’d pointed to but a few moments ago.

The truth was, I didn’t know if I could sing well or not. I’d sung for my mum, but what mother doesn’t think her own child’s voice sounds like that of an angel? However, a storyteller must sing, for there are tales that lend themselves only to song. So I nodded, hoping my voice would not be too hideous to other ears.

“Here, take this. It will make a fine harp, and you’ll be our singer.”

We went back up the narrow path to her cottage. I carried the bone under my left arm. It fit there most remarkably well. As we walked, she drew from her pocket a straight, long bone, with small holes carved in it. “I have been working on fashioning a flute from this. We shall create such music that the selkies will have no choice but to give me what I want.” And the sound she made when she blew gently and moved her fingers over the holes was like a song from heaven.

“I’ve never heard anything like it,” I said softly, not wanting to disturb the magic in the air.