Read Online The Dress (Everyday Magic Trilogy: Book 1) by Sophie Nicholls - Free Book Online
Authors: Sophie Nicholls
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will live with you for seven summers. But after that,” she told him, “I must return to my true home and be with my sisters.”
The fisherman lifted the young seal woman into his boat and rowed her back to the village. Although his nets were empty, his heart beat proudly in his chest for he knew that he’d landed himself the biggest catch of all.
Months passed in the village. The corn on the hillside grew tall under the hot sun, the oranges began to ripen and the man and the seal woman had a baby together, a little boy. His mother told him stories, just as I’m telling you this one now, tesora , stories of a secret world under the sea where the people lived on sunlight and starlight and wove songs out of the ocean waves.
And the seal woman tried to be happy. She really did try. She mended her husband’s nets, whispering powerful charms into the knots, and his catch was always the best of the village and so they never went hungry.
But as the years passed, the young selkie’s skin began to wither, her hair began to come out in handfuls, the roundness of her hips and breasts began to wither away and she could no longer see very well to cook or clean or mend.
‘You’ve kept my sealskin for seven long years and now it’s time for you to honour your promise and return it to me,’ she said to her husband, ‘The eighth autumn is arriving.’
‘Woman, you must think I’m stupid!’ Her husband laughed. ‘If I ever give it back to you, you’ll leave me alone without a wife.’ He strode off into the night, slamming the door behind him.
The little boy loved his mother and was very afraid of losing her to the world beneath the waves but, at the same time, he couldn’t watch silently as she suffered in this way. That night, as he was sleeping, he heard the wind and the water whispering to him.
He jumped out of bed and ran out into the night, scrambling over the rockpools. As he looked down into the waves, he saw a big bundle, clumsily tied with string, rolling out of a cleft in a large rock. He picked it up and held it to his chest, and gasped as he felt the strong scent of his mother unfolding itself all through him like the sea itself.
He ran back to the house and fell through the door where his mother was waiting for him. She snatched him up and snatched up the skin.
‘Mother,’ he cried, ‘Don’t leave me!’
But something older than herself, something older then the rocks and older even than the sea, was calling to her.
With the little boy tucked under her arm, she staggered to the rocks, stepped into her sealskin and drew it up all around her. Already she could feel her strength returning. Now she dove down deep under the water, still clasping the boy tightly to her body, and the boy discovered that he too could breathe easily under the water and swim with all the grace and slipperiness of the seals.
Seven days and nights passed and the boy lived among his mother’s selkie-people. They danced and sang in their world under the waves and feasted on starlight and sunlight from plates of shell and drank the moon’s reflections from goblets of pearl.
The seal woman’s skin turned lustrous again and shone more brightly than ever before. The little boy laughed to see how plump and soft she was becoming. He could no longer circle her wrist with his hand.
But on the seventh night, he noticed tears in his mother’s eyes and knew that it was time for him to return to the upper world.
‘Little one, my precious one, one day, many years from now, it’ll be your time to come and join us,’ his mother told him, guiding him up to the shore and sitting him gently on the rocks. ‘But until that time you’ll live here in the world of people, of human beings,’ she told him, ’and I’ll never leave you.’
And, sure enough, as the years passed, the boy became a man and well-known in the village as a poet and a singer and a teller of wonderful stories. And every evening, his nets were filled with
The fisherman lifted the young seal woman into his boat and rowed her back to the village. Although his nets were empty, his heart beat proudly in his chest for he knew that he’d landed himself the biggest catch of all.
Months passed in the village. The corn on the hillside grew tall under the hot sun, the oranges began to ripen and the man and the seal woman had a baby together, a little boy. His mother told him stories, just as I’m telling you this one now, tesora , stories of a secret world under the sea where the people lived on sunlight and starlight and wove songs out of the ocean waves.
And the seal woman tried to be happy. She really did try. She mended her husband’s nets, whispering powerful charms into the knots, and his catch was always the best of the village and so they never went hungry.
But as the years passed, the young selkie’s skin began to wither, her hair began to come out in handfuls, the roundness of her hips and breasts began to wither away and she could no longer see very well to cook or clean or mend.
‘You’ve kept my sealskin for seven long years and now it’s time for you to honour your promise and return it to me,’ she said to her husband, ‘The eighth autumn is arriving.’
‘Woman, you must think I’m stupid!’ Her husband laughed. ‘If I ever give it back to you, you’ll leave me alone without a wife.’ He strode off into the night, slamming the door behind him.
The little boy loved his mother and was very afraid of losing her to the world beneath the waves but, at the same time, he couldn’t watch silently as she suffered in this way. That night, as he was sleeping, he heard the wind and the water whispering to him.
He jumped out of bed and ran out into the night, scrambling over the rockpools. As he looked down into the waves, he saw a big bundle, clumsily tied with string, rolling out of a cleft in a large rock. He picked it up and held it to his chest, and gasped as he felt the strong scent of his mother unfolding itself all through him like the sea itself.
He ran back to the house and fell through the door where his mother was waiting for him. She snatched him up and snatched up the skin.
‘Mother,’ he cried, ‘Don’t leave me!’
But something older than herself, something older then the rocks and older even than the sea, was calling to her.
With the little boy tucked under her arm, she staggered to the rocks, stepped into her sealskin and drew it up all around her. Already she could feel her strength returning. Now she dove down deep under the water, still clasping the boy tightly to her body, and the boy discovered that he too could breathe easily under the water and swim with all the grace and slipperiness of the seals.
Seven days and nights passed and the boy lived among his mother’s selkie-people. They danced and sang in their world under the waves and feasted on starlight and sunlight from plates of shell and drank the moon’s reflections from goblets of pearl.
The seal woman’s skin turned lustrous again and shone more brightly than ever before. The little boy laughed to see how plump and soft she was becoming. He could no longer circle her wrist with his hand.
But on the seventh night, he noticed tears in his mother’s eyes and knew that it was time for him to return to the upper world.
‘Little one, my precious one, one day, many years from now, it’ll be your time to come and join us,’ his mother told him, guiding him up to the shore and sitting him gently on the rocks. ‘But until that time you’ll live here in the world of people, of human beings,’ she told him, ’and I’ll never leave you.’
And, sure enough, as the years passed, the boy became a man and well-known in the village as a poet and a singer and a teller of wonderful stories. And every evening, his nets were filled with
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