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Adventure Mystery Fantasy

The woman in the mist,

will sing your name to thee,

you’ll follow and be gone,

if you find the Mirror-Sea.


Her voice will call you in,

but home, you’ll never be,

if you follow the Siren’s Song,

into the Mirror-Sea.


If you go with her below,

you will never be free,

because you were already lost,

when you found the Mirror-Sea.


So listen to this well,

it’s the last I can say to thee,

beware the Siren’s Song,

if you find the Mirror-Sea.


Sea Shanty, circa 1793.




I held it in my hand, reverently.

A compass.

A simple, thing, really. For a sailor, especially. I must have held and used dozens… But this one? This was different.

As I held it to the light, I noticed something that hadn’t been visible moments before. An engraving, perhaps. I tiled it again, but there was nothing. I frowned, and held it to the light once more, and there it was.

I squinted. There was an image. A Siren, on a rock, a ship in the background. I looked around, searching for the Antique Dealer to ask a few questions, but he had disappeared into the labyrinth that was the back of the shop. Instead, my eyes found a magnifying glass. Perfect.

I walked to the front of the shop to try to see the engraving in a clearer manner, but the windows were small and grimy, the glass barely offering anything substantial in the way of light. Better than nothing, I thought.

I tiled the compass again, and using the glass, I was able to see more detail. It was then that I noticed the name of the ship, and I froze in disbelief. The HMS Terror. The ship that would be leaving the next day, with myself upon it.

I took a step back, away from the window, and embraced the gloom of the shop whilst I composed myself. I looked around. There was nothing abnormal about the place. This close to the port and the docks, it was unsurprising to find memorabilia on display in shop fronts, from eye glasses to maps, to nautical equipment… To magical compasses, I thought.

I corrected myself. A silly thought. It is a coincidence, a simple coincidence. The Terror wasn’t a new ship, just reconditioned for the journey North. Ahead of its time, people said. This compass had probably been made for an Officer on an earlier voyage, so there was nothing strange, really.

Oh, how quickly our minds try to make sense of the abnormal, the bizarre.

I went over to the sales desk and rang the bell for service. A shuffling, elderly gentlemen made his way out from the back, quick enough to respond when someone was buying.

“I wonder, Sir, if you know anything about the providence of this compass? It is quite… compelling.”

The man looked at me, searchingly, over the little spectacles that were balanced on his nose. “You’ve seen it?”

“The engraving? Yes, although I must admit it took me by surprise.” I was still holding the compass in my hand, reluctant to put it down, even for a minute.

“Not everyone can see it.”

I frowned. “You mean, not everyone notices it?”

“I mean what I said, boy. Not everyone can see it.”

I bristled, unhappy at being referred to as a child. “Well, either way. I would like to buy it, Sir. My ship leaves tomorrow and it will be useful.”

He was still looking at me over his glasses. “You’re sailing aboard the Terror?”

“Yes, although what business of yours that is, I do not know.” I felt myself becoming angry, unsure as to whether he would left me leave the shop with my trinket.

The man sighed and turned to his till. “And you are sure you want it? You don’t have to have it, you know.” He turned again to look at me, directly in the eye, and something about his demeanor changed, shifted. “You can walk away from it.”

I shivered, as though a ghost had walked over my grave, but I shook it off, my desire for the compass overriding the feeling of dread. “For goodness’ sake, man! I would like to buy the compass, please!” The frustration of the situation was driving me to the edge of my patience. Why have something in his shop that he didn’t want to sell? Ridiculous.

The man sighed. “Well, then, remember that you chose this. You chose this. You were warned. Oh, and I don’t do refunds.” He pointed to a sign behind the counter that said just this.

I exhaled and relaxed. “Yes, thank you. And I apologise for raising my voice. It was… ungentlemanly of me.”

“That’s okay, boy.”

I paid an exorbitant fee for the compass and left the shop, placing it in the watch pocket of my waistcoat.

The next few days passed in a flurry of activity and before I knew it, we were aboard the Terror and sailing North to Greenland. There, we would re-fuel and re-supply to ensure our supplies would last us through the Winter, should we come icebound.

Spirits were high in this first leg of the journey, and the other Officers and I dined well. It was the third night at dinner that I told my tale of the compass I had found.

“An antique shop, you say?” asked the Captain, turning my trinket over in his hand.

“That’s right. And quite an objectionable fellow he was! I don’t think I’ll be returning.”

“On Cavendish Street?”

“I believe so, yes.” I replied.

“I had no idea there even was an antiques dealer on Cavendish street!” The Captain could barely take his eyes from the compass.

I shrugged. “I may be incorrect. But you see,” I leaned over to take it off him, not liking the covetous look on the Captain’s face. “If you turn it over, you see the engraving. Look what happens if I tilt it to the light of the lamp.”

The Captain looked. “I don’t see anything, James.”

I frowned. “Really? You don’t see it?”

“Must be getting old.” The Captain waved it away and then yawned. “I think we are done here for the night, gentlemen, don’t you?”

Murmured responses came from around the table and the Officers began to get up to leave, the call of their beds too much to deny.

As I was leaving, Dr Goodsir came over and caught my elbow. He lead me to the back of the room, away from where crewmen were clearing away the dishes from our supper.

“Don’t show it off, James,” he told me, quietly, concern on his features.

“What? Why?”

Worry passed over his weathered features. “I’ve seen items like this before. I’ve seen sailors driven mad by trinkets like yours.”

I laughed. “Surely that’s a bit dramatic, Sir!”

But the look on his face assured me of his seriousness. “Listen, if I were you, I’d tell no-one you have it. Ideally, you would throw it overboard and be done with it.”

My stomach dropped at the idea of parting with it. “Why on Earth would I do that, Sir?”

“Because it’s Siren-made, my son!” Dr Goodsir’s voice raised a little and he pulled me further into the corner of the room, anxiously trying to avoid being overheard.

I couldn’t help but laugh again. “Surely you don’t expect me to believe that? I think you’ve been too long at sea, Dr Goodsir!”

“Yes, Son, you are probably right, but being at sea means that you learn things, things that other men do not know. You need to take care. Do you know the tale of the Mirror-Sea?”

“The shanty? Of course I do! What of it?”

“Have you ever seen one? Have you seen a Mirror-Sea?” The doctor was wringing his hands, obviously disturbed by the conversation.

“Of course not, man. It’s a myth, a legend!” I clapped my hand on his shoulder in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“But what if I told you it wasn’t a myth? What if I told you that the trinket you carry is linked to the Mirror-Sea and that by having it, you could have unintentionally doomed us all?!”

“I would say that you’ve had too much brandy, my man, and I think it’s about time I took my leave.” I nodded, bowed politely and left Dr Goodsir with his mouth gaping open like a fish, needing to remove myself from the conversation.

As I headed back to my quarters, I tried to dismiss the notions of the doctor, but I found that I couldn’t. I couldn’t deny the strange pull of the compass, and I couldn’t deny my feelings when I thought about losing it. With thoughts tumbling around in my mind like the waves of the sea, I poured myself another stiff brandy and tried to sleep. Eventually, I fell into slumber, but it would not be a restful night, for my dreams were to be vivid and strange. I dreamed of a woman, an astonishingly beautiful woman, who was calling to me, but somehow, I couldn’t reach her. She was always just out of my grasp.

When I awoke, the compass was on my nightstand, not in the pocket of my waistcoat where I had left it, and from that point onward, my descent into madness intensified.

Wherever I went aboard the Terror, my compass went with me. I couldn’t bear to have it out of my possession, or even out of my hand. As I walked around the deck, always looking down, my back became bent and hunched over. Crew members avoided me, for when they looked in my eyes, I wasn’t present. My waking dreams followed me around, and I began talking to the lady in my dream-visions. She often responded, and I would have long conversations with her, as if she was there beside me. Dr Goodsir eventually moved my sleeping quarters into the sick bay so that he could keep a keen eye on the struggles I was having, but his his droughts and tonics could not clear the madness from my eyes and mind. I would neither eat nor drink without persuasion and I grew thinner and less able to complete my duties by the day. Any attempt to remove the compass from my hand would lead to fits of anger and abuse; I would lash out and strike the person, or I would turn the anger inward and would begin banging my head against a beam. I was truly, truly lost.

We were two days out of port when my mind suddenly cleared, and I remember the moment distinctly. I awoke, as if from a dream, and peered into the darkness of the sick bay. Dr Goodsir was asleep in his chair; he had clearly been watching over me.

I climbed to the deck to take some fresh air, and I caught my breath at the stillness and the beauty of what my eyes beheld. This could only be the Mirror-sea of legend. The water was so glass-like, it reflected the stars of the clearest night I could ever remember aboard a ship. There was not a finger-span of blackness between the stars, and I could see as clearly as the brightest day. We were still, and silent. The world was still, and silent. I could not even see the break of water at the bow. And that’s when I heard her for the first time. She was singing.

I rushed to the prow of the Terror and she was there, upon a rock, as in the engraving upon the compass. A thought, as definite to me as the knowledge of my own name flooded through me; I belonged to this woman.

As I watched, other sailors began to appear on deck, drawn out of their slumber by her miraculous voice. But they could not have her, for she was mine. I needn’t have worried, however, for soon, other voices began to join in the lament.


If you follow,

to the deep,

I’ll sing you songs,

while you sleep.


And when you wake,

there I’ll be,

with two suns rising,

from the sea.


But if you leave,

and swim away,

heed the words,

I’m going to say.


You’ll never settle,

always pine,

for the love,

that was once mine.


Before I could think, my body responded, and I began to remove my boots, sailors all around me doing the same. The desire to get to this… enchantress becoming something of an overwhelming and physical need.

I wasn’t the first into the water, but I also wasn’t the last. Sailors broke the clarity of the Mirror-Sea in drastic attempts to get to the Sirens. Men were pushing and shoving in the water, clamoring over each other to get as near to these women as they could, as quickly as they could. I have no idea how many drowned that day.

But no-one approached the Siren on the rock, because she was mine.

By the time I had reached her, there were less sailors in the water and the Mirror-Sea was returning to glass. Of where the men had gone, I did not know.

“I was glad it was you, who found my trinket,” spoke the voice of a thousand angels.

Suddenly, the water did not feel so cold. “I am also glad, my love.”

“Will you come? Beneath the waves?” A frown crossed her perfect features and I pledged, at that moment, that nothing would ever make this woman have to frown again.

“To be with you? I’d cross a thousand oceans.”

She reached down and stroked my face. “And you know you will never return?”

I nodded, enthralled.

She slipped into the water and took my hand, her dark hair fanning out around us.

A shout from the ship caught my attention and I turned. Dr Goodsir was on the deck, my compass in his hand.

“Keep it!” I yelled. “For I have no need of it, now.”

I did not look back again, but followed my woman into the waters, and into the deep. 

September 23, 2024 12:53

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8 comments

Kate Simkins
08:13 Sep 24, 2024

Thanks James! One does try one's best :-)

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James Scott
23:10 Sep 23, 2024

Loved the gentlemanly dialogue here!

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14:01 Oct 03, 2024

Love this tale and this genre, something of the M R James about it. Really well told!

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Kate Simkins
16:37 Oct 03, 2024

Thank you so much!

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David Sweet
16:36 Sep 28, 2024

A wonderful tale! It seemed like something from the classics of Melville or Poe. Very nice. Thanks fir sharing. The story moves at a wonderful pace and I liked the links with the Shantys as well.

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Kate Simkins
18:10 Sep 28, 2024

Thankyou so much! I write poetry as well... hence the shanties!! X

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David Sweet
19:50 Sep 28, 2024

Those are original? Wonderful!

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Kate Simkins
08:16 Sep 29, 2024

Yep... all mine!!

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