Elfi considered the meaning of themermaid’sname. Sky shining upon the ocean. With eyes as blue as a summer sky and hair like wispy silver clouds, she is aptly named.“I am honored to meet you. Thank you for welcoming me to theÎle de Sein.” She remembered the vibrant colors of the sea among the hair, tailfins, and eyes of the ninesjóvættirmermaids. None had been blonde. “Does your hair color change when you assume human form?”
The crystalline notes of Himinglæva’s laughter were as pure as a cool, clear stream. “Indeed it does, though the human shade is similar.” She waited while Elfi strapped thedragonscalesheath andÚlfbladdagger around her hips. slinging the leather satchel over hershoulder. “Let me take you to the stone cottage where we shelter women who come here seeking knowledge. My sisters have assumed human form so that we may help you. We shall gather driftwood for a fire, harvest berries and edible plants, and catch fresh fish for dinner. Come, it’s not far from this sea cave.”
They exited the grotto and headed north, plodding along the soft white sand. The late September sun was warm upon Elfi’s face, and the sweet floral aroma of wild thyme, sea lavender, and heather mingled with the saline scent of the sea. In the distance up ahead, she spotted a small stone cottage with a steep, thatched roof, surrounded by elderberry trees filled with small, dark berries and blackthorn hedges full of deep purple fruit. The mermaids—who had all assumed human form—were gathering driftwood, plucking berries and leafy greens, and harvesting clams and scallops in the shallow waters and mudflats near the shoreline. Elfi noticed that their hair color varied from palest blonde with shimmers of silver to deepest black with shades of midnight blue, streaked by the late summer sun.
“Come inside and see where you’ll sleep. We have rustic furniture—tables, benches, and wooden chests—which we’ve salvaged from shipwrecks. Indeed, we have amassed quite a collection of goods, which we trade when we interact with humans.” Himinglæva led Elfi into the rustic stone cottage, lifting a thick sealskin which served as a waterproof door.
In one corner of the large rectangular room, a bed had been created from wooden planks—perhaps from a ship, Elfi mused. Heaps of straw were piled on the wood, with woolen blankets, furs, and animal hides for a mattress. On the dirt floor strewn with sweet smelling rushes was a wooden chest, and a small table topped with a candle stood beside the bed. Inside the hearth at the rear of the cottage, a fire crackled, the smoke exiting the cottage through a small hole in the thatched roof. A long oak table was placed near the fireplace, with wooden benches for seating on either side. Two small windows—simple openings in the stone walls on opposite sides of the cottage—allowed the cleansing ocean breeze to flow through the hut. Leather hides, pulled backto enjoy today’s sunshine, could easily be secured by leather straps to shut out harsh rain or wind when the weather turned foul. The tantalizing aroma of fresh fish—seasoned with wild garlic, rosemary, and sage—simmered in an iron cauldron suspended over the flickering flames. Elfi’s mouth watered at the inviting, appetizing scent.
The mermaid with jet black hair gleaming with midnight blue was outside the cottage near the water’s edge, cleaning the scallops and clams she had harvested. She scraped the tender morsels of meat into a wooden bucket, tossing the discarded shells onto the shore. A frantic flock of screeching sea gulls swarmed around her, swooping down to pick at the scattered remains. The sapphire streaked brunette entered the hut, poured the contents of her pail into the steaming pot over the hearth, and grinned at Elfi. “Seafood stew. With fresh herbs and root vegetables from the garden.” Her task complete, she took the bucket outside and rinsed it in the freshwater stream which flowed from the nearby spring.
“That’s Kólga,” Himinglæva informed her with a sly grin. “Cold wave. She controls the ice and fury of the Nordic Seas.”
At the mention of the name, Njörd’s bearded, beloved face flashed into Elfi’s mind.
She watched in fascination as theGallizenaefunctioned as an efficient team, working together to set the table and prepare a hearty, impromptu meal. While one mermaid scooped ladles of steaming seafood into pewter bowls, placing them on the table beside tin spoons, another poured wine from a ceramic vase into pewter mugs which she fetched from wooden shelves standing against the wall. When everything was ready, Himinglæva gestured to the oak table, inviting Elfi to partake of the sumptuous seafood feast. “Please, join us as our honored guest. Welcome to theÎle de Sein.”
The rich flavors of cod, scallops, and clams blended beautifully with fresh herbs and chunks of root vegetables. Elfi tasted wild carrots,turnips, leeks, and sea kale, seasoned with garlic, rosemary, and thyme. As she savored every delicious bite, Himinglæva introduced her to the sisterhood of thesjóvættir.
Blóðughadda, the flame-haired mermaid, was a fiery red head whose name meantblood hair.“For the blood of sailors whose ships venture too close to our shores and wreck upon its treacherous rocks.”
Hefring, Unnor, and Bylgja had long, luxurious hair in various shades of brown, with glimmering eyes of blue, grey, or green. Bára, like Kolga, had long black hair, but with eyes of palest blue, evoking the imagery of a foam flecked wave. Hrönn was a golden blonde, in contrast to the pale silver shimmer of Himinglæva’s heavenly locks. And Dröfn-- the youngest of the nine billow maiden mermaids--had been born when Elfi’s mother Dúva died.
“There must always be nineGallizenae.” Blóðughadda swallowed a mouthful of seafood stew. “Dröfn assumed Dúva’s responsibilities for protecting the realm of Rán.”
“And you, Dúva’s daughter, inherited your mother’ssjóvættirmagic.” Himinglæva transfixed Elfi with an omniscient, otherworldly gaze. “Which has remained dormant until your arrival here at theÎle de Sein.”
Pensive, Elfi sipped from her pewter goblet, savoring the heady aroma and earthy flavor of the rich red wine. She longed to learn more about her mother. “If men are not allowed to come to theÎle de Sein, how did my parents meet?”
“WeGallizenaeoften interact with humans…” Bára began, but was interrupted by her raven-haired sister.
“And weloveto mate with mortal men.” A corner of Kólga’s full lips curled up into a sultry smile.
Bára smirked, and continued her explanation to Elfi. “As humans, we frequently attend festivals in Bretagne or Normandy. We trade goods in thriving markets—such as the one in Quimper—and rejoice at the many Celtic or Nordic fairs.” Her radiant smile illuminated the porcelain skin of her lovely oval face. “Your mother met Thorfinn atla Foire de Saint-Jean,the Celtic fertility festival to celebrate the summer solstice.”
Elfi flushed at the thought of her parents meeting at a pagan fertility festival. She imagined meeting Njörd there, clad in his white wolfskin cloak, lust blazing across his fierce, feral face. A warm wave of desire washed over her at the tantalizing thought.
“Your father had just become the Count ofÉtretat. Richard the Fearless had granted him the noble title—and the clifftop castle ofChâteau Blanc—to reward Thorfinn for helping him defend Normandy in a decisive battle against the Franks.” Nostalgia shone in Himinglæva’s sorrowful gaze. “With her incomparable beauty, your mother caught Thorfinn’s eye. They danced around the summer solstice bonfires and celebrated the entire week-long festival together. She told him she was an orphan, that her parents had perished in a shipwreck, and that she resided in the Abbey of Saint-Romain in Rouen. He would often visit her there, but weGallizenaecan only remain in human form for nine days, at which time we must return to the sea. This made it very difficult for Dúva to spend time with Thorfinn. Although she would stay at the abbey, where he wooed her, she had to make frequent excuses and routinely disappear.”
Hrönn reached for the ceramic pitcher and refilled Elfi’s goblet of wine. “Thorfinn took her to many festivities at the castles of Norman nobles throughout thePays de Caux, including the Viking wedding of Richard the Fearless and his pagan wife Gunnor.” She flicked a long blonde lock over her shoulder and smiled softly at Elfi. “Dúva would often go to the secluded inlet of Étretat and watch Thorfinn swim in the Mermaid Cove. She desperately longed to become human, for he had asked her to marry him. She wanted more than anything to follow her mermaid heart. Marry the man she loved. And become a mother, something we as mermaids can never do.”
I understand the passion my mother must have felt. Like her, I would be desperate to marry Njörd..Elfi gulped her wine, swallowing the lump of emotion down her constricted throat. “But she did marry my father. And bore him two children—my brotherDag and me. How was she able to remain human?”
“She begged our mother—the Sea Goddess Rán—who finally relented and allowed Dúva to sacrifice her immortality. But as a mortal, your mother was susceptible to human weaknesses. When she died giving birth to a daughter, you inherited hersjóvættirmagic. And Rán allowed Dúva’shámr—her protective maternalspirit --to remain near you in the Mermaid Cove of the waterfall cave. Until you came to theÎle de Sein, for your dormant power to be awakened.”
Just as Brökk sent his hámr— in the form of the sacred white wolf— to protect his son Njörd in the forest of Norway. Similar pasts have entwined our fates. And now Njörd and I face the future together as mates.
While Elfi sat in quiet contemplation, several of theGallizenaearose from the table, gathering the pewter bowls, spoons, and mugs. “We’ll take these outside and wash them in the stream,” Bára announced, ducking under the sealskin flap and exiting through the open door.
“Did my father know that my mother was one of thesjóvættir?” Elfi’s gaze darted between Himinglæva and Kólga, the twoGallizenaestill seated with her at the table.
“No, she never told him, for fear that the truth would drive him away.” Kólga’s dark eyes glimmered like sapphires in the golden rays of the setting sun.
Elfi thought of her stubborn father and his narrow views of women. He would indeed have been horrified if his wife were a shapeshifting mermaid. Sorrow squeezed her heart, and Elfi sighed, longing for the mother she never knew.
“Before we leave you for the night, there is another aspect of your magic we must awaken. Please come with us to the shoreline.” Himinglæva rose to her feet, as did Kólga. Both waited expectantly at the door for Elfi.
A ripple of exhilaration surged through Elfi’s shaking body.I have learned to become a mermaid. And now, more of my magic will be awakened. Blessed Freyja, grant me strength!
